"We tell lies when we are afraid...afraid of what we don't know, afraid of what others will think, afraid of what will be found out about us. But every time we tell a lie, the thing that we fear grows stronger." ~ Tad Williams

There are 360 degrees within every individual. As I orbit in, out and around the lives of other individuals, I try my best to do a complete revolution before them. What you see is what you get, whether in public or private. The only part of me that cannot be regularly seen is my candor with my husband or sons. Those areas are reserved specifically for my main men.

I've always been extremely transparent in all my dealings, but I've found throughout the years that many cannot handle the truth of who I am. I actually realized this daunting fact around the age of 7. During that time, instead of running the risk of a person not liking me, I would lie about my identity in order to gain their favor or friendship. I lied because I didn't know if they would still like me if they knew everything about me, good, bad and ugly.

Fast forward to adolescence, and my orbit had totally stalled. I was so afraid of what others might think of me that I put myself on pause. Outwardly, I was popular, athletic, talented and gifted. Everybody loved them some Harriet...except Harriet.

Somewhere along the way, I realized that there's nothing that could be found out about me that would endanger, insult or enrage another person. Yet even if that's the case, rather than lie about who I am through my actions, I'd rather not allow my orbit to roll over to another person's life. If you love or like me, cool. If you can't stand me, cool. If you'd rather not be around me because part of my 360 degrees makes you uncomfortable, cool. If you want to kill me--don't start none, won't be none--but even that's cool.

Just yesterday I was rejected and written off by a young lady who had seen just about every part of my 360 degrees (except the aforementioned areas). She called me socially "weird." Knowing her, I'm sure that moniker was meant to be a sarcastic jab at my character, but for some reason, I took it as the highest compliment a person could give me. If she's reading this, girl, THANK YOU for being my inspiration to maintain my identity in Christ, in marriage, in love and in life. I really mean that from the bottom of my heart, no sarcasm or hard feelings. For real.

I've realized in life that honesty in my identity--even at the risk of being viewed as peculiar (read: weird), even when telling a lie is easier and will reduce conflict, even when there is an inherent risk that I will be rejected and written off--is ALWAYS the best policy.

I don't care what anyone says or thinks. I'm no longer afraid of...