Now I tell lies.
I didn’t used to be this way. I have vows to be ethical. There’s a lot of fine print with those but de facto it means I never lie. In fact, I’m one of those people who believes lying is always wrong—even white lies, even making other people feel better, even minor excuses like saying you’re busy instead of “I’d rather not come.”
But I can admit there’re exceptions.
If I had to lie to save someone’s life, I would. And… actually, that’s the only exception. It’s the only one I thought of for the 10 years I’ve been under vows.
Don’t Judge Me
I meet a lot of new people and there are two questions I get asked a lot. As a matter of personal policy, I will never again provide honest answers to these two questions:
- How old are you?
- What’s your sign?
The only reason people ask you these questions is to judge you based on nothing. The querent inevitably has a right or wrong answer in their mind. They’re forming a hypothesis about you based on how young (or old) you are. They want to know if they can guess your good and bad qualities based on your sign (hint: no).
So from now on, I’m just lying.
If it’s an older person and they ask my age, I’ll make up one that sounds older. Their intention is to dismiss my travels as youthful angst and I’m going to make that harder for them.
(My stock answer till now has been, “Old enough,” but they just keep pressing for a number.)
Younger person? They don’t usually ask, but if they do I’ll say I’m younger.
If you want my zodiac sign it will be a different one every time. I won’t even keep track. Sometimes I might say my real one just to keep things interesting.
People seem to like Leo the best, so I’ll probably use that one a lot.
Of course, anyone who takes the time to read my work is going to figure out how old I am and what my true sign is. It’s not secret. I don’t mind my friends having personal information about me. Actually, I don’t even mind strangers having my personal information. Google can have my privacy; it’s their compensation for making my life way easier.
Does this stretch my vows? It’s hard to say. It doesn’t literally break the letter of any of them, but rules lawyering your spiritual vows is a bad idea. On the other hand, it cockblocks people’s unfair judgments.
In the end, it comes down to two things. It harms no one, and I feel alright about it. Your rogue priest is now a liar.
What do you think? Right? Wrong? And does anybody else have any routine lies?
I’m writing my first novella. It has magic spells, happy corn, sad farmers, and desperate fucking. Lúnasa Days.