Lies we’ve told our therapists (Ahem, ourselves)

What started as an experiment in vulnerability for me turned into something much greater than I ever imagined. Every time I posted a new Lie, first on Instagram and then the longer essays here, I heard from friends and strangers, near and far, online and in person. Collectively, it culminated in something I’d never even noticed I was lacking: connection.

Every time I hit publish, I felt less alone. And the best part is so did others.

Writing—paired with a relentless pursuit of the truth—proved a powerful path to catharsis for me. I joked in an early post that a wiser woman might’ve started with journaling privately, then went on to explain the reasons I opted to put it all out there publicly: “1) there’s no lifeguard on duty in the sea of BS we swim in on social media; sometimes I need a buoy + thought others might, too; 2) accountability.”

At the time the latter carried more weight for me. If people can use social media to hold themselves accountable for working out, meditating, journaling, nutrition, etc., why can’t I use it for vulnerability? At the time I was still months (and months and months…) from understanding just how desperately I needed that buoy. At the time I was merely hopeful others might also need a buoy (please don’t let me be the only one!).

While I’m not ready to recommend publishing your life story on the Internet, I can definitively say my one-woman experiment proved all theories right beyond a shadow of a doubt. I can now definitively say Vitamin V(ulnerability) is good for the heart and soul. Putting myself out there was terrifying but I wouldn’t trade anything for the fear, accompanied by its friend, courage. It was like catch and release for the soul. Every time I hit publish, every time I released it—whatever Lie or story I was telling myself—I enabled someone else to reel it in, examine it for themselves and then do the same.

This story started with me. But it doesn’t end with me. This is bigger than me.

Here’s where you come in. Everybody lies—to themselves, their therapist, their colleagues, their friends and family. Remember, the name of this game is lying through omission, not fabrication. Do you lie in therapy or elsewhere? What stories do you tell yourself? What Lies have you discovered you’ve been told about yourself? To prove this latest theory of mine, that this is bigger than me, I invite you to ‘fess up and tell your stories here—anonymously—and we’ll share them back to the community. I didn’t create the community, you all do.

Tell your stories—the ones rooted in shame, blame, guilt, regret, fear, love, courage, desire, etc.—then include your name (or don’t), your initials (or don’t) and where you live (or don’t). Think PostSecret, but less of a confessional art project, more of a crowdsourced, safe space to experiment with coming clean with yourself.

The truth is a trip, let’s take it together.

*By submitting information to Lies I’ve Told My Therapist, you grant Lies I’ve Told My Therapist a perpetual, royalty-free license to use, reproduce, modify, publish, distribute, and otherwise exercise all copyright and publicity rights with respect to that information at its sole discretion. Lies I’ve Told My Therapist reserves the right to select, edit and arrange submissions, and to remove information from the Lies I’ve Told My Therapist website at any time at its sole discretion.