"The Truth is Out There"

30 August 2004
6:00 p.m.

Watching an episode of Smallville, Clark asks Lana, “Don’t you find (Byron) different?” Lana had taken fancy on the latest Luthor Corp. mishap that turned Jekyll-and-Hyde when exposed to the sun. Lana says, “If you really like someone, you have to accept every part of that person.” Clark retorts, “Maybe Byron keeps that part hidden so people will not be scared away (off).” Lana explains, “But that’s a risk you have to take. You’ll never know unless you show it. And you might have missed out on something amazing if you never try.”

We’ve heard or read these words in so many forms and phrases basically telling us, “Take the risk. See what life has to offer. Don’t be afraid. Tell the truth.”

Borrowing the X-Files “The Truth is Out There,” we have always over-rated what honesty and truth really mean.

We hide behind facades and look “happy” to be in the norm and to maintain the status quo.

But how long can one keep up this charade without taking a toll on one’s psyche? These repressions have only given more money to psychiatrists and psychologists.

What are we afraid of? A German book called “Mary” by Ella Kensington simplifies, “The root of man’s problem is the desire to be accepted and to not be alone.”

Are we so ashamed of ourselves that sometimes we put on a show so that people can like us and that we may “belong”?

In transition to finding real people who can accept us, we hang out with a mediocre crowd. A group of people we have nothing in common with but we bear because the thought of eating lunch alone is just too SAD.

We prize companionship but do we really know what it entails? Why do marriages only last 52 hours? Because the couple wanted to compromise their happiness at the thought of being happy in each other’s arms. This is not meant to generalize but to look at why people are so unhappy amidst the bustling crowd of “friends” and why the sarcastic grin is not so much as a mannerism as a silent scream of “What the hell am I doing here?”

We get ourselves into these situations because we want to be loved, accepted, wanted. But at what cost? (I am not questioning true happiness, I advocate it.)

To what extent can we compromise to be worthy of society’s approval? Aren’t there people who don’t judge? What are we ashamed of? Aren’t we part of society too? Can we look through a prism of non-judgment?

Isn’t it that each one carries a secret in their heart that they’d rather die than tell “friends.” So, what is a friend if truth cannot be spoken? I used to be scoffed at because of my brutal frankness and my hurtful bluntness. But I’ve also received many praises that if not for my fiery tongue they’d have gone astray. I still prize the truth. As much as it hurts…it will set you free. (Cliché? Try it!)