Lies I tell my daughter
As a child, one of the earliest lies I was told was when my sister said that a tree would grow inside my belly after I had accidentally swallowed an apple seed. I was terrified. Another lie I was told was that swallowed bubble gum will stick to the inside of my body and never come out. And when I accidentally swallowed a piece, I was in tears because I thought I was going to die. Then I was told not to worry, since I will just poo it out. I was dumbstruck at the cavalier attitude toward my near death experience. Not only do I remember these vivid memories, but I also learned at an early age that people can be mean and some can’t be trusted.
Fast forward a generation; I don’t deliberately torment my daughter with falsehoods. But there are times I don’t tell her the full truth and anything but the truth. Even though I believe that if a child is old enough to ask a legitimate question, they deserve an honest and age appropriate answer—until I decide otherwise. In my daughter’s case, I do sometimes protect her from the harsh realities because I feel that it’s easier and less complicated to lie a little. But as a default, unfortunate honesty is a better way to deal with a situation. In other cases, cover-up, discretion and avoidance are better. Only in extremely rare situations might an outright lie be necessary and then only temporarily.
I learned at an early age that people can be mean and some can’t be trusted. I am neither, but there are times I don’t tell her the full truth. I do this to protect my young daughter from the harsh realities because I feel that it’s easier and less complicated to lie a little.
Unfortunate honesty. When I lost my job due to corporate restructuring, I was lucky to walk away with a tidy severance for the years of service I had provided the company. I took the time to recharge so I can repivot my career. From my last day to the first day of a new job, it was a gap of 9 months. The time off was wonderful and refreshing, but filled with uncertainties. My daughter knew I was off work because we spent a lot of time together and she came home from school to many new recipes. But she did ask me if we are okay for money and offered her piggy bank. I was optimistic, but every unanswered application or rejection letter added its toll of stresses. Every failed interview and passed over opportunity became a callus that just made me more determined. “We are not going to be hobos,” I said, “We’ll be fine. Daddy’s just looking for the right job. So you keep doing what you’re doing and my job is looking for a new job.” I felt my Pinocchio nose grew an inch.
Cover-up. One of the biggest lies I told my daughter was that her eviscerated hamster simply ran away and living free and happy in the park. I was really shielding a 5 year-old from the trauma that dead pets can bring—especially one that died so horribly. It wasn’t until years later that I told her what had happened because she was able to have an age appropriate discussion on death. She was sad when she finally found out and shed a tear at the eventual death of her subsequent hamster. We reminisced and I closed out the conversation with humor and distraction by saying, “Listen, you’d better enjoy your last 15 minutes of YouTube. The Internet closes at 8:30pm.” She flashed me a suspicious double-take. I think she’s catching on fast!
Discretion. My daughter is constantly interested in my life and what I do with my time when she’s at her mom’s. Needless to say, I don’t go into any details about the people I see and whom I bring back to the bedroom. It’s also unnecessary to be so forthright about these very adult situations with a child who would stand no benefit from learning the details. My simple and stock answer to my daughter is that I socialize with friends just like she does with hers, except as adults, we are not confined to a schoolyard but go to restaurants, movies theatres and even visit in each other’s homes. At this age, all she needs to know is that daddy will be home when she returns and I am not distracted otherwise.
Avoidance. As my daughter gets older and continues to peer into my private affairs, her questions are becoming remarkably candid. We talk about many things but the one topic that seemingly concerns her the most seems to be my dating life and her attempts to deterred me from remarrying. In fact, she’d even said that she would thwart all efforts. I believe this topic recurs for two reasons. First, my daughter would feel seriously threatened at being second fiddle or forgotten after daddy remarries and second, I have never given her a straight answer, so she continues to seek clarity. I avoid the topic not to be trivializing but simply because I don’t have a straight answer. Whom I meet and how a relationship will develop is not an outcome I can predict. There is nothing for me to cover-up or to be discrete about. Avoidance at providing my daughter a real answer isn’t out of propriety or indecision; there simply is no conclusion—and therefore, no real discussion. So I always end this conversation with, “The only person I look after is you. Nothing will change between us.” My nose didn’t grow as it is the unconditional truth.
I am certain that as she gets older, her dependence on me will gradually wane and she will one day want me to find a partner. At the end of the day, I am doing the best I can as her father to provide for my daughter’s emotional happiness. A day will come when she will reciprocate. I very much look forward to that day.
