The depths of honesty for relationship and recovery

There are two forms of honesty right off the bat. Honesty that says in so many ways, “Honestly...!” but fails to live up to what it said, and honesty that is founded in deeds backed up in actions of integrity.

The first form is somewhat our natural inclination. Many of us are quick to reflect lightly or promise things we can’t or won’t ultimately deliver. “Hey, I honestly thought I would/could have done that!” (when we didn’t or couldn’t). This honesty is in fact something more akin to actual dishonesty, however well-meaning we were when we said lovely things that didn’t ultimately materialise. Full of good wishes and intent, this kind of honesty isn’t helpful for our relationships or indeed ourselves, and it so often produces harm. This is the honesty that sows havoc.

The second form of honesty is the true and real and much rarer honesty. It takes hard work and much discipline to access this honesty. This is the kind of honesty that remains committed to its promises, following through to their fulfilment, however uncomfortable or costly it feels, even when it hurts (see Psalm 15:4b).

This second form of honesty is not only the absolute bedrock for relationship, authenticity, integrity and sincerity, it is the secret of success in achieving anything good and worthwhile. When I think of this type of honesty, I’m most reminded of a guiding principle of Alcoholics Anonymous. Recovery is impossible without deep honesty. That’s just “how it works,” as AA would say. The most important thing we can do when we’re in recovery from anything is to be brutally honest with ourselves, take our own responsibility, and resist blaming others and making excuses.

We are all tempted to practice the first kind of honesty; it is full of intent, it is full of smooth and well-meant words, but most often with very little action attached to it. This kind of honesty—what many call honesty, but which isn’t—tends to denigrate relationships, damage trust, and ultimately defames the individual who cannot or will not face their truth or others’ truths.

We see this duplicitous version of honesty in every unrecovered addict, narcissist, and delinquent. This is the root cause of the thinking that produces addiction in the first place. To hear them talk we would think they are the embodiment of integrity. Nothing would be further from the truth. Lies merge with the practice of malevolent deeds which form into habits that become addictions. Relationships are devoid of hope when one or both cannot be honest with themselves, let alone the other person. Lying is but a falling off the slippery slope away from love.

Deep honesty is the primal form of humility. This is where honesty is grounded in the commitment to change behaviour. Less words, more action, because actions always speak louder than words. 

Deep honesty transcends words and becomes power for action-oriented transformation.

The reason I’ve contrasted these “forms of honesty” (one of which is clearly dishonesty) is dishonesty is so often passed off as honesty.