Him: Why do you lie so much?
Me : I do?
Him: You do.
Me : If that's what you really believe, you don't seem too upset about it.
He was silent for a moment - thinking about it.
Him: I guess not.
Me : Why not?
Him: Ma trodish 3ala so'ali bso'al. (Don't answer my question with a question.)
Me : Come on. Tell me.
Him: You tell me first.
Me : 7abibi please don't be mean. Pretty please? For my sake?
Him: Will you answer my question?
Me : I will. But you go first.
Him: Ok. Why doesn't it upset me that you lie to me? Hmm...I guess because most of the time I can see through it. You're a bad liar. That's kind of cute.
And so on & so forth.
Ok so now I have to answer his question. I said I'd give him an answer tonight.
Why do I lie to him? It IS mostly him that I lie to these days. Infact I've thought & thought and I can't think of a single recent example of me actually telling anyone else a falsehood. The simple fact is with other people, there is little occasion for lying. I don't have to lie.
The people I've lied to most in my life are my parents & now my husband. There is less contact with my parents now so he's the current number one.
So when I lie, it's to the people I love most in the world.
With my husband, my memories of the lies I've told are not even that unpleasant. I don't remember them with great agnoies of guilt or anything like that. Infact, a lot of them make me smile now.
What does that say about me?
The earliest falsehood I remember with my husband was when I once tried to fake it in bed with him. Now he tends to be a little more adventurous than me. He always wants to try out something new. Usually I'm fine with it but once in while, something will just not work for me. Being a woman of strong feelings, if something doesn't work for me am not usually bored or apathetic about it. I flat out hate it. Never-want-to-do-it-or-hear-about-it-again kind of hate.
The first time that happened, I didn't know what to do. I had heard a lot about how fragile the sexual egos of men are, how if a woman tells them she didn't enjoy it, they are crushed and left feeling useless, less-than-men etc....For obvious reasons, I didn't want that to happen to him.
So the first reflex was to try to fake it. I gave it my best shot.
Suddenly he stops. I open my eyes to find him staring at my face for a moment. Then he bursts out laughing. It was the only time I ever saw him literally laugh til he cried.
He'd stop laughing & calm down for a minute then he'd splutter: Oh my God! The look on your face! What were you DOING?
And then he'd be off again. I thought he was going to die laughing that way.
I never tried the faking thing again. It was insane to think for a second that anything could possibly even puncture that gigantic ego of his.
I might also lie if:
1) I'm asked a question to which a truthful answer will make me look too hung up on him. Because I think it makes me look pathetic. I always thought it was pathetic when a woman was too hung up on her man.
Also, I know it tends to scare men off. The clinging vine thing, I mean.
It's just uncool so of course I try to make him think it's less than it actually is.
2) I'm jealous. I would never admit that. Never. So I invent other things to explain my jealousy-related mood swings.
3) I want him to like a close friend or relative better. I'll tell lies to both sides actually to make the people I love get along with each other.
4) I think it will make him like it here a little better. I love UAE. I would like to stay here a lot longer than he would. So I might embellish the truth a bit where I think it will improve his opinion of life here.
5) My maternal hormones are working overtime. I still get occasionally depressed about that. But I never admit it anymore. I just make up something if he asks me the reason why I'm down. Like a work problem or missing my parents.
I mean, what would be the point of discussing it with him? We tried to discuss it so many times & it never got us anywhere I want to be again. We've reached a point on this issue where I think there's nothing he can possibly say or do about it that wouldn't hurt me and hurt me a lot. Except maybe get me pregnant, like, yesterday. At times, I get so desperate about it that even the nine-months pregnancy period seems too long to wait before I can have a baby to look at & touch & love.
So enough really. Why bother talking anymore? I'd have to be a glutton for punishment.
So what answer shall I give him? The truth? Interesting contradiction no? Telling someone the truth about why you don't tell them truth?