Confessions of a Former Liar

If holding grudges was my side hustle, lying was my full-time job. And if for some reason you’ve stumbled on my blog looking for a scandal, this is the one. I hesitated to write this because I know it has the potential to be damaging to my character. It’s not something anyone wants to admit about themselves. But here’s the truth: this is not who I am now, it hasn’t been for a while and God has redeemed me. Since He laid it on my heart to share, I have to trust that someone needs to hear this.

Lying is rampant in our world. We see it in politics, in churches, and in everyday life. And yet, the church rarely spends time addressing it. That silence only makes this conversation more critical because unchecked, lying destroys everything it touches.

I never lied out of malice. My lies weren’t crafted to intentionally hurt others. That’s the insidious part—the lies weren’t obvious villains; they wore the mask of protectors. I lied to shield myself from rejection. I lied to hide my shame. I lied because I thought it was necessary for survival. But the worst lies weren’t the ones I told others—they were the ones I told myself.

I lied to myself about who I was, painting over my insecurities with a prettier, more acceptable version of me. I whispered lies like “You’re not enough.” Lies like “If they knew the real you, they’d leave.” Lies that became the foundation of my identity.

I lied to others about what I did, fearing that my truth would strip me of their approval. I lied to hide the shame that felt like a permanent stain on my soul. I built my life on dishonesty, not because I enjoyed it, but because I feared the consequences of the truth. I believed that lying was love, that hiding the truth was protecting others from disappointment.

But here’s the thing: lies don’t give you freedom—they enslave you. The chains tightened with every untruth, trapping me in guilt and shame. I overthought every interaction, every conversation. I overanalyzed how much of the truth was safe to share. What if people saw through the facade? What if they realized I wasn’t perfect, or worse, that I was deeply flawed?

The turning point came when I realized this profound truth: God cannot fix who we pretend to be. The version of me that I showed the world wasn’t real, and the lies I told myself were keeping me from the healing I so desperately needed.

The cost of my lies became painfully clear. When I made the choice to come clean, the most valuable relationship in my life was on the verge of collapse because of my dishonesty. She’s someone who despises lying, and rightfully so. Lies chip away at trust until there’s nothing left. I lied to her repeatedly, fearing her disappointment, and I nearly lost her because of it.

The lies I clung to as my lifeline were actually a noose. But Jesus stepped in. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. When I turned to Him, I expected condemnation but found grace instead. He saw my shame, my flaws, and every hidden secret—and still loved me. His truth became greater than any lie I had ever told.

Rebuilding trust has been humbling. It has meant taking responsibility, asking for forgiveness, and showing that I am no longer enslaved by dishonesty. God has used this painful journey to open my eyes to the damage lies can do and the freedom truth can bring.

Do I still wrestle with the temptation to lie? Of course. But I choose not to, and refuse to enslaved by it any longer. The truth has set me free, and every day, I’m learning to live in the freedom that only Christ can give.

If you’ve built your life on lies, you’re not alone. I know how suffocating it feels to carry that weight. But God is ready to meet you where you are. He sees you, and He loves you. But He can’t fix the person you’re pretending to be. He’s waiting for the real you, the one who is messy, broken, and desperate for His grace.

Lying doesn’t just harm others; it destroys you from the inside out. But the truth is transformative, healing, and liberating. Stop running, stop pretending. God is waiting to redeem your story, just as He redeemed mine. Let today be the day you start walking in truth.