Naked

It never ceases to amaze me how chickenshit people have become. Nobody likes to tell the truth anymore. We don't have honest conversations these days. Most people can only speak the truth when they're fucking inebriated, but by the time they're that fucking drunk, they're slurring their sentences and their thoughts are all fucked up.

Why is that?

Why do people have such a hard time talking about what they actually fucking feel?

You would think relationships would be the easiest place to be honest, and yet they're not. They're where we see this the most. Relationships at work. Friendships. Romantic relationships. Fuck, it's exhausting trying to pry the truth out of people.

Years ago, I was involved in a long-term affair. "Long-term" isn't even the right description because it wasn't continuous. It was intermittent. Once or twice a year spread over more than a decade. Different states. Different rendezvous points. Different seasons of life.

Whatever you want to call it, it happened. I'm not going into any more detail than that.

These days, we're friends. Or at least we're trying to be.

Let me explain how friendships work in my life because I don't think I'm wired like most people. I have a lot of people I'd call friends, but most of them are really acquaintances with history. We check in every month or three, catch up, laugh a little, then disappear back into our own lives. There's affection there, but they're not the ride-or-die crowd.

I only have two people I talk to every single day.

My love doesn't fit into either category. She gets her own category because she owns my heart. That's different.

So this person sits in that arm's-distance group now. Someone I genuinely care about. Someone who once occupied a very different place in my life.

We've had our struggles.

There was a sort of breakup last year. We still talk, but there's an awkwardness that naturally follows when two people have shared that much history.

And that's what got me thinking.

We've seen each other naked. We've shared hotel rooms, beds, secrets, and pieces of ourselves that most people never get to see.

Yet somehow... Talking honestly about matters of the heart is harder than taking off your fucking clothes.

How the hell does that make any sense?

Recently we had a conversation where something was hinted at but never actually said. It sat there between us like an elephant in the room. I know there's more to the story. She knows there's more to the story. But neither one of us reached over and pulled the pin.

Fear.

That's all it was.

Not fear of violence. Not fear of rejection. Just that strange, deeply ingrained fear we've all been taught, that speaking our hearts somehow carries more risk than carrying our silence.

That's fucking wild.

At work, I'm constantly checking in with my employees. I ask them if they feel empowered to disagree with me. I ask if they feel safe telling me when I'm wrong. Because we can't solve problems if people are afraid to admit they exist. We can't get where we're going unless we're honest about where we are.

The check-in matters. People need to hear that it's safe to speak.

Maybe we need to start doing that in our personal lives.

Not just with our partners. With our closest friends too.

Maybe every once in a while we should ask, "Is there something you're afraid to tell me?" Maybe we should remind each other that the truth won't destroy the relationship. Maybe the relationship should demand the truth.

Because silence has a nasty habit of filling itself with assumptions. Assumptions become stories. Stories become resentment. And resentment becomes distance.

All because somebody was afraid to simply say what they fucking felt.

So that's where I am this morning. Wondering why we've become so emotionally chickenshit. Wondering why exposing our hearts feels so much more dangerous than exposing our bodies.

I don't have an answer. I just know I'd rather have one brutally uncomfortable conversation than spend years wondering what someone was trying to tell me.

And maybe...

Just maybe...

We should start having those conversations before we need a bottle of whiskey to find the courage.