Yes. And it bothers me greatly.
Not the ones I can, in a sense, justify- but the ones I tell because I didn’t take the time to think of a better answer- a more helpful answer. The ones where I think I am helping, but know that I am not. The ones where I can give one or both of us a better chance at our own truths.
And the ones that I tell out of the habit to be the same as, or better than, another. The ones steeped in the desperate need to belong, or bear soul, or be right…or all three.
And especially the ones that are so old- so, SO old, that my lizard brains still spits them out as truth. The ones told as a child, which somehow became the truth I needed to cope, but then became the excuse to remain the victim.
The lie- like it or not- is what holds us back. Holds us down. Holds us away. The universe will never support a lie the way it can glorify and reward a truth as fantastical as ours.