Although I can’t remember my teacher’s name from first grade or who my best friend was, I vividly remember the first real lie I told my parents. I came home one day after being in trouble for the first time ever in school, terrified that the world was coming to an immediate end. The teacher had instructed me to give my mom a note about my bad behavior and the punishment I had received that day at school. Not only that, the note had to be signed and returned the next day. As I walked home, I devised a plan to destroy the note and consciously lie to both my mother and the teacher. It was the first real lie I ever told, and the guilt, remorse, and pain that I felt lived on in my psyche for a long time afterward. The reasons why I chose to lie were obvious: I was afraid of getting in trouble, afraid of disappointing my parents, and humiliated by what I had done. I figured that if no one else knew, then surely it would be like it never happened.
When children lie, there is always a significant reason behind it. Most of those reasons stem from fear, regret, dread, humiliation, embarrassment, or feelings of neglect. Hundreds of kids make up cute stories they swear are true in efforts to get attention. Even more kids believe they see Santa Claus every year. Many others begin sneaking and hiding things from their parents around kindergarten or first grade. Although this lying is often part of growing up and a way to avoid consequences, I feel it’s our duty as parents to figure out what makes our children feel threatened or unsafe about confiding in us.
Understanding Why Children Lie
I didn’t tell my mother because she was a raving lunatic who yelled at me more than she spoke and always invoked name-calling as a part of her punishment. At a young age, I knew I had no reason to trust her with anything that could hurt me emotionally, so I would just lie to cover it up. When I was caught in the lie, not only was my consequence worse, but I was labeled a liar, which led to more elaborate lying. When she would ask me why I didn’t tell her the truth, I would stand there, stone-faced and filled with pain, never having the guts to admit that I was afraid of her reaction— even when I was old enough to realize this was why I lied.
Now, when any of my children come home telling me something I know isn’t true, I take a very deep look at what I am doing to facilitate the truth.
Recently, my daughter had an argument with her best friend. Every day, they sat together at lunch—except for this particular Friday. When I asked her why, my 7-year-old skirted the subject and mumbled that she just wanted to sit somewhere else that day. I pried a little more, realizing she was hiding something from me because it was causing her a great deal of pain. I did my best to tell her a story about me and one of my friends who had a disagreement once. After that, I never accused her of lying nor brought it up again. But that night, as she went to bed with a tear in her eye, she told me that she and Brooke had fought. She felt terrible about it and was worried they wouldn’t be friends anymore. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, and her response was that she was embarrassed. After I left her room, I tried to figure out a way to make myself a more acceptable recipient of the truth, so my children wouldn’t be afraid to confide in me. I would rather die than know my children are being forced, by my actions, to harbor hurtful feelings. I also learned from my own childhood that if I could show my children that I could indeed be trusted, they might trust me enough to tell me anything.
I have children in my house ranging from 2 to 11. The lies they tell are much different depending on their age, but the reasons they lie are always consistent. Lying is a knee-jerk response to fear. Since fear can take on many forms, I know that when they lie, I need to pay close attention. It’s not so much what they’re hiding, but why. So far, I’ve managed to find out the truth whenever I suspected them of lying. I’ve never once called them a liar or punished them for lying. Each time they have lied and then told me the truth, I’ve praised them for having the courage to speak the truth in the end. I always ask them, “Was telling the truth really so bad?” Usually, they’re crying with guilt and overcome with relief once they own up to what they’ve done. By allowing children the opportunity to come to the truth on their own terms, we’re letting them take responsibility for themselves and feel good about their moral character. This confidence and pride will take them far in life.
In addition, when children lie, they are often silently telling us about our own parenting style. As the years go by, there will be times when the truth can mean the difference between life and death. I always want my children to know that telling the truth to mom is not so bad. I hope this ensures they always have a safe place to land and an understanding person to lay their burdens on. I may not always like the truth when I hear it, but I always want them to feel safe enough to tell it to me. This is not to say I would never be disappointed by their behavior, choices, or actions, but most children judge themselves harshly enough. The truth always has a way of rising to the surface. It is my goal as a mother to let my children be the ones to bring it forward so we can collectively deal with whatever is happening. Fostering their honesty often means fostering our own inner emotions long enough to be a good listener.
