“What do you complain about the most?” That’s what the site wants to know. I’ll tell you, it’s an easy answer.

I watched a documentary this week on Hulu, called “Scamanda,” about a woman in California, super spiritual, super inspirational, and her fight with cancer. Except, of course, as you can tell from the title, the cancer was fake. She pretended to be suffering to steal people’s money. The doc was fine, easy and interesting, the kind where you just let the episodes run together. I guess it’s called binge watching. Thankfully, there are only 4 episodes, so it’s not too much of a time suck.

Now, to answer the site prompt, I complain about lies & liars, dishonesty, and inauthenticity the most.

Maybe this is because I care so deeply about relationship, and the only true obstacle to the beauty of connection is our bs. Or maybe I resent being marked as a fool, that I am so worthless I can’t be interacted with on the most basic human level. Or maybe I just don’t like when people are intentionally mean to each other. I don’t like when we manipulate or betray each other on purpose (we do enough of that accidentally, we don’t have to go out of our way to hurt each other.)

This woman created an entire existence – online, in church, in town, in the community – only to separate people from their money. I recognize that is reductive. It wasn’t “only.” I’m sure she was insecure and needed validation, needed to feel important, needed to distinguish herself. She was probably very mentally ill (instead of only a thief) to perpetrate such a vile act for so many years.

One of the most fascinating things was that this was able to continue primarily because almost no one could fathom someone lying about such a thing. That’s true. You couldn’t. And I like that about you. I like that she was right to assume that about us.

I just discovered that one I believed to be a close friend had been lying to me (looked me in the face and fed me one lie after another.) Was anything ever real? I have to assume not. It never occurred to me that any of the things he shared wouldn’t be true. This is not the best thing to discover. And it can change someone, make someone cynical, jaded, untrusting, closed.

It won’t do that to me, though, because in hindsight, even with a freshly broken heart, I like that about me. I like that he could assume I’d believe him, trust him. I did.

You see, I have been thinking about something I read. We create the world we want to live in by living that way now. I want to live in a world of kindness, so I am kind. Of trust and vulnerability. Of authenticity. Of love. So it is up to me and you to go first. We live as if that is how the world is, how we actually are. I don’t want to live in a world where we are suspicious of our neighbor/friend/family member/YouTuber with a cancer diagnosis. I don’t want to live in a world where I question everything my friends say. This is how we circulate our humanity. We believe in each other. We love, first, and invite everybody else to come along.

Yes, of course, this means we’ll get kicked by the psychos. And those kicks will hurt and we’ll never get used to them, it’ll be like the first time (shocking & vicious) every time. It’s part of becoming the revolution. We choose what to build, and they shouldn’t be able to change the blueprints.