Hey everyone, Tina here. Pull up a chair, grab a beverage (preferably something stronger than a juice box), and let’s have a real heart-to-heart.
Respecting the Bad Decision
I saw a quote today—you know the one: “Don’t lie to me. I can respect a bad decision but I can’t respect no mf liar.” And honestly? I felt that in my soul. If I had a nickel for every time I had to look someone in the eye while knowing they were feeding me a script from a low-budget soap opera, I’d be retired on a private island with a personal taco chef.
We’ve all been there. Life is basically just a series of choices between “the smart thing” and “the thing that makes a great story later.”
I’ll go first. Remember that time I decided that cutting my own bangs at 11 PM on a Tuesday was a “visionary” move? I looked like a cracked-out coconut for three months. Was it a bad decision? Absolutely. But when people asked what happened, I didn’t say a rogue squirrel attacked me with garden shears. I told the truth: I had a glass of wine and too much confidence.
People laughed. We bonded over my forehead’s new visibility. Respect earned.
Why the “Mess” is Relatable
See, a bad decision is human. It’s relatable. It says, “Hey, I’m a work in progress and occasionally I trip over my own feet.” Whether it’s:
- Texting your ex because the moon looked pretty.
- Buying that treadmill that is currently serving as a very expensive coat rack.
- Eating that third taco when your stomach was already waving a white flag at two.
I can get behind those! I can hug you through those! We can laugh about those until we cry!
But Then… There’s the Lying
Why do we do it? Usually, it’s because we’re scared of being judged. But here’s the irony: I will judge you way harder for the lie than the actual mistake.
If you’re late to our lunch date because you hit snooze six times and then got distracted by a TikTok of a duck wearing a hat—tell me that. I’ll call you a mess, we’ll order appetizers, and we’re good. But if you tell me there was a 14-car pile-up involving a circus truck and a parade of tractors, and then I see you posting a “just woke up” selfie ten minutes prior… now we have a problem.
Lying is like trying to cover a pothole with a piece of glittery cardboard. You might think it looks pretty, but eventually, someone’s going to drive over it and end up with a flat tire and a lot of resentment.
Tina’s Golden Rule
I’d rather you tell me you did something stupid than tell me a “perfect” story that doesn’t add up.
In a world full of filtered photos and curated “best lives,” there is something incredibly refreshing about someone who just owns their chaos.
When you lie to me, you’re basically saying you don’t trust me enough to handle the real you. And honestly? The real you—the one who makes mistakes, forgets birthdays occasionally, and makes questionable fashion choices—is much more interesting than the fictional character you’re trying to sell me.
I want the raw footage, not the highlight reel. I want the truth, even if it’s messy, even if it’s embarrassing, and especially if it’s hilarious.
Let’s Just Be Real
So, to my friends, my family, and anyone else reading this: Please, just give it to me straight.
If you spent the rent money on a life-sized cardboard cutout of Danny DeVito, just tell me. We can figure out how to explain that to the landlord together. But don’t tell me your identity was stolen by a group of international art thieves.
Life is too short for fake stories and “mf liars.” Let’s just be messy humans together. It’s much more fun that way, and the wine tastes better when you’re not trying to remember which version of the truth you told.
Stay real, stay messy, and for the love of everything, put down the scissors after 10 PM.
Well written! I absolutely agree, if I were to judge anything, it would definitely be the lie!