Full disclosure: tomorrow would have been my seventh wedding anniversary. I was married at 7pm on October 29th, 2004. It was a Friday. I was the ripe old age of 19– I’ll give you a moment to recover from the shock (I still can’t believe it myself. 19. Good grief). We were divorced three years and nine days later. It was a Wednesday.
You’d be safe to assume that I wasn’t ready to be married on that peaceful fall night seven years ago; I don’t think either of us were. We were too wrapped up in a courtship—and the infatuation it produced—to see the gravity of such an important decision. We were young, painfully naïve, and blindly optimistic; and even though I cared for the woman I was marrying, I didn’t love her. I knew that, but at 19, I felt changing my mind or altering our plans would cause an upheaval within the calmed balance of my life—so I went along with it, assuming (hoping even) God would allow me to feel love one day soon. The regret I feel for doing that to her will never pass. And though I’ve been through the desperation of a divorce, and all the raw emotions that process entails, I was able to learn so much truth during those melancholy times–most of all, I learned how to be honest.*
Relationships, whether romantic or friendly, are a balance between two parties. Each member brings something to the relationship with the understanding that they’ll be given back what they require. We hope, we laugh, and we love, all while (hopefully) being sustained within the union, but when one decides to betray the other–whether through actions or words– a divide is caused. It’s during these moments of selfish contemplation when the most pain and damage is done to our relationships and the people we care for.
Honesty is bravery. It takes courage to look a loved one in the face and admit that we’ve done something wrong, or that our feelings have changed. Shying away from that and hiding our wrongdoing is part cowardice and part fear of hurting this person we’ve cared for. We feel we can hide the truth and proceed, but it rarely, if ever, works out that way.
In contrast to my past self, I’ve done a complete 180 in handling a relationship and the honesty it requires. When I decide to get to know a young lady, I’m forthcoming with all of my past sins and mistakes. If I see the potential of a forever with her, why would I start the relationship off with deceitful lying and the like? Even from an analytical standpoint, it doesn’t make sense. I can sincerely say I’ve learned from my mistakes and treat each relationship, friendly or romantic, with the respect and truthfulness it deserves. In doing this, I’ve seemed to rid my life of dramatics and honestly, that’s all I could ever ask for.
In the end, honesty saves us from ourselves—holding us accountable to those we care about. Everyone; whether friends, lovers, or family, will all respect our upfront honesty. It’s called for, and even at the most basic of human levels, it’s required. Let’s put honesty above all else and live our lives in the light of truth as we deserve.
*This full story was published in book form in 2009. Next week, I will make the manuscript available to all those who would like a copy…for free. Follow me on Twitter (@Cory_Copeland) or like the Mad to Love fan page for more details to come. Thank you for reading.
