Let’s be honest for a second and I mean really honest.
How many lies have you told today? Not the big, scandalous kind that ends marriages or gets you fired; I’m talking about the tiny, polite, invisible ones. The “You look great!” when your friend’s new haircut clearly missed the mark. The “It’s not that bad” when it’s actually a full-blown disaster. Or my personal favorite: “I’ll pay you back next month.”
These are the lies we dress up in politeness and call “little white lies.” They’re the verbal equivalent of sugar-coating sweet on the surface, but not exactly good for anyone’s long-term health.
And yet… we tell them every day.
Sometimes without even blinking.
The lie in a smile
There’s this weird social choreography we all seem to perform. You bump into someone you haven’t seen in ages maybe a colleague, maybe that friend from high school who used to spend hours with doing absolutely nothing but having the time of your life. You exchange that awkward but warm “Hey, long time!”, followed by a smile that tries a bit too hard.
Then it comes — the ritual:
“We should catch up sometime!”
“Absolutely! Let’s grab coffee soon.”
You both nod like you just made a blood pact.
And then… nothing.
No message. No call. Just another contact saved in your phone like an unopened promise.
I’ve done it. You’ve done it. We’ve all done it.
And for the most part, we don’t feel bad about it until, of course, it matters
A little story (that actually happened)
A few months back, I ran into a childhood friend. Not just a classmate a friend. The kind who knew where we buried all the toys, the one who shared sandwiches with you at lunch, who knew when your crush walked by before you even looked up.
It had been years since we’d last spoken.
I’d just wrapped up lunch with my team ; full stomach, good mood, Friday sun hitting just right. As we were walking out, I heard,
“Hey buddy!”
I turned around and there he was. Same grin, just a little older. We high fived, laughed, caught up quickly ; five minutes of pure nostalgia. Then came the line:
“Give me your number, man! We have to catch up properly.”
And this time, I meant it.
I really did.
I saved his number. The next day, I called. No answer. Probably busy. Called again the day after still nothing. No call back, no message. So I tried WhatsApp, thinking maybe text would do the trick.
Nada. Blue ticks? Not even.
That’s when it hit me ; this wasn’t one of those “little white lies” that I was telling. This was one being told to me.
And shit man, it stung.
Not like heartbreak or betrayal just a small, dull ache of recognition. I guess I’d done the same thing to others. More than once.
The psychology of polite deceit
So why do we do it?
Why do we tell these soft, cushiony lies that we know, deep down, aren’t true?
Some psychologists call it “prosocial lying” — lying for the sake of keeping peace, avoiding awkwardness, or sparing someone’s feelings. It’s the verbal version of nodding politely at someone who’s talking too long instead of saying, “Please, stop.”
We lie to keep the air smooth. To protect someone from a truth that feels too sharp. Or maybe, to protect ourselves from conflict, discomfort, or guilt.
But here’s the irony: Those little lies, the ones meant to keep things easy? They quietly complicate life.
You tell someone “It’s fine” when it’s really not, and suddenly they have no idea they’ve crossed a line. You say “I’ll call you” when you won’t, and now there’s someone waiting by their phone not for a call, but for closure that never comes.
Sometimes, the truth we’re trying to avoid saying is smaller than the lie we end up telling.
The sound of silence
When my call went unanswered, I felt this odd mix of embarrassment and clarity.
I thought about all the times I’d ended conversations with “We must catch up!” while already half-distracted by something else. The warmth in the moment felt genuine but the intent? Maybe not so much.
There’s something almost poetic about it, though. These little white lies are like background noise the hum that keeps our social interactions from sounding too harsh.
But maybe we’ve let the hum get too loud.
Maybe we need a bit more silence. More truth, even if it’s awkward.
What if we tried honesty instead?
Imagine saying:
“I’d love to catch up, but life’s hectic right now. Maybe another time.”
Or:
“That outfit isn’t really your best , but your confidence in it is killer.”
Or even:
“I can’t afford it this month, let’s plan for next time.”
There’s something surprisingly freeing about honesty. It clears the mental clutter. No follow-ups to dodge, no false promises to remember. Just clean, simple truth delivered with kindness.
Of course, not every truth needs to be brutal. You can be honest and gentle. The two can coexist.
The ripple effect of honesty
When we stop leaning on small lies, something shifts. Conversations become more real. Relationships, more grounded. Even casual interactions start feeling fresher less like scripts, more like moments.
And the best part? People start trusting your words again.
When you say, “You look great today,” they’ll know you mean it.
When you say, “Let’s catch up soon,” they’ll believe it’s not just a closing line.
Honesty doesn’t just protect others ,it restores your integrity too.
The mirror moment
That encounter with my old friend it still pops into my head sometimes. Not with resentment, but with recognition.
He probably didn’t mean harm. Maybe the nostalgia just ended at the parking lot. Maybe it was easier to ghost than explain. I’ve done the same and in that moment, I saw myself from the other side.
Little white lies aren’t always malicious. But they do leave small bruises.
And if we’re not careful, those small bruises start adding up. Boy oh boy do they add up.
So, let’s talk
I’ll go first. My most frequent little white lie?
“I’ll start on it tomorrow.”
Spoiler: I won’t.
Now your turn ,what’s the little white lie you catch yourself telling most often?
Drop it in the comments, or share this with someone who owes you a “catch-up coffee” from three years ago.
Maybe, just maybe, we can start being a little more truthful about the small stuff.
Because honesty even in teaspoons, tastes better than the sweetest lie.