Just Because It’s True …
“Before you speak, let your words pass through three gates: Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it kind?” — commonly attributed to the poet Rumi
“I was just being honest.” I’ve heard those words plenty of times, and I’m pretty sure I’ve often said them myself. Usually they follow something that landed differently than intended: an unsolicited observation, a criticism, an opinion that perhaps didn’t really need to be offered. We tend to think of honesty as an unquestioned virtue. But I’m increasingly convinced that honesty doesn’t require saying everything we think. Sometimes the most caring thing we can do with an honest opinion is keep it to ourselves.
Like most people, I have lots of opinions, and when one forms in my mind, there can be a subtle temptation to believe that because I have it, I should share it. Sometimes that’s appropriate. People I care about deserve honesty from me, particularly when something important is at stake. But other times I wonder what my “honesty” is actually serving. Am I offering something the other person needs, or simply relieving myself of the discomfort of not saying what I think? Am I helping them, helping our relationship, or just demonstrating that I have an opinion?
Honesty and disclosure aren’t the same thing. Honesty asks that what we say be truthful; it doesn’t require us to say everything that is true, or everything we believe to be true. Healthy relationships depend not only on candor but also on empathy, timing, perspective-taking, and judgment. Before offering an opinion, we might ask: Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it kind? And perhaps add: Is it mine to say? Is this the right time? Was my opinion even requested? Discernment isn’t dishonesty. It is choosing what to do with our honesty.
This becomes particularly important with people we know well. Familiarity can convince us that closeness grants unlimited permission to comment: on choices, appearance, relationships, parenting, work, or how someone is living their life. Yet perhaps intimacy calls for more discernment, not less. The people closest to us have entrusted us with vulnerable parts of themselves. Sometimes love requires courageous truth-telling. Other times it means recognizing that our opinion adds nothing useful to the moment. And occasionally the most generous response is simply curiosity: “How are you feeling about it?” rather than “Here’s what I think.”
This week, notice the moment just before you offer an opinion, particularly one that wasn’t requested. Ask yourself: Does this need to be said? By me? Now? And will saying it strengthen or diminish our connection? Better yet, invite your PeerRx partner or another trusted colleague to help you notice when your opinions might be better left unspoken. We all need someone who cares about us enough to gently hold up the mirror. Because caring for a relationship sometimes means having the courage to say what needs to be said, and sometimes the wisdom not to.