When we think about habits, we usually think about things like exercise, diet, or when we wake up in the morning. We do not often think about character-focused behaviors, or relationship behaviors, as habits. Yet habits in these domains are probably more important for both our health and our happiness than how often we exercise, because these habits of character are foundation to most other habits, such as or what time we wake up in the morning.
Honesty, in particular, is a foundational habit—both the honesty with which we relate to others, particularly the honesty with which we relate to ourselves. We usually think about honesty in a moral sense, but it may be more useful to think about it in a behavioral sense, like a habit similar to brushing our teeth or flossing.
When we do not brush our teeth, plaque begins to build up. One night of skipping is not a big deal, but repeated neglect has a cumulative effect. Over time, that buildup creates problems that were barely noticeable at first. Dishonesty works in a similar way. Each rationalization, exaggeration, or avoided truth slightly clouds our perception. Viewed in isolation, this is not much of a problem. Over time though, the accumulated contortions create real consequences, and we begin making decisions based on a distorted map of reality. In this sense, maintaining honesty—particularly with ourselves—is less about morality and more about maintaining an accurate way of navigating life. Without it, everything downstream—relationships, goals, decisions—begins to degrade.
Big lies obviously distort reality, but big lies usually grow out of smaller ones, or from stories we do not even recognize as lies at all. Or perhaps, we believe big lies simply because of the number of times they have been repeated. We might tell ourselves that our drinking is “just a way to relax,” or that “I only use cannabis to help me sleep.” These statements may contain a sliver of truth, but they obscure a larger reality. One distortion leads to three, then to more, until we become caught in a web of rationalizations and justifications that the people who love us can barely recognize. Because looking at that becomes increasingly difficult, we tell ourselves the lies with ever-greater frequency, and ever-greater zeal. This is why honesty becomes one of the foundational habits of recovery: the goal is to recognize distortions while they are still small, before they compound into something much harder to unwind.
This does not come naturally. As humans, we value comfort, avoid discomfort, and are generally conflict-avoidant. From an evolutionary and social perspective, this makes sense. Small distortions can help smooth social interactions or reduce conflict in the short term. Thinking about honesty as a behavioral habit is helpful because of this bias we have.
It is also not natural for us to brush our teeth or avoid high-sugar foods—there is no evolutionary advantage to those behaviors. But in modern society though, those habits serve us well, and so we deliberately practice and scaffold them until they become routine. Over time, they begin to feel normal, to the point that many people feel strange going to bed without brushing our teeth. Honesty can develop in a similar way. At first, it requires deliberate effort. But with practice and repetition, honesty becomes the default, and the distortions that once felt easy and natural begin to feel uncomfortable.
In this way, honesty with ourselves becomes a foundational habit for most other habits. Acknowledging our behaviors, motives, or shortcomings is key to understanding what changes we need to make, and without that acknowledgement, learning is impossible. We skip workouts because we “were busy,” avoid difficult conversations because “the timing isn’t right,” or stay in situations that are not working because “things will change.” Self-deception quietly undermines every other habit we try to build.
Looking honestly inward is often uncomfortable at first. It is pleasant to tell ourselves that we are doing well—showing up for our children, exercising regularly, contributing to a better world. It is harder to see that we may not be showing up the way we hope, that we exercise less than we believe, or that our actions contribute to the very problems we care about. This is were kindness comes in– without it, that level of honesty is usually too painful to sustain.
Being honest with ourselves takes effort. Self-reflection can feel uncomfortable in the moment, and at first we naturally resist it. Like exercise, the act itself may not feel good while we are doing it, but afterward we experience a sense of clarity and relief. Each deliberate practice strengthens our ability to face ourselves, and over time the discomfort becomes easier to bear.
As this habit develops, honesty becomes less like internal turmoil and more like brushing our teeth—a simple practice that quietly keeps the rest of our lives functioning properly. At first it requires conscious effort, but repetition changes the experience. What once felt uncomfortable begins to feel right, and the distortions that once seemed acceptable gradually stand out, leaving us with a clearer view of ourselves and the world around us.
Seen this way, honesty becomes a kind of master habit. When we can see our behaviors, motivations, and circumstances clearly, every other form of growth becomes possible. Without that clarity, we end up trying to solve problems that we do not fully understand. With it, even difficult truths become useful information—signals that help us adjust our direction and continue improving over time.
Love,
Doc
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