I hate deception.

Some might say it’s just marketing  … expect it.

I broke a blusher recently, a small bit of enhancement in a compact container I’d purchased to put a little color in my cheeks so my intentional lack of sun wouldn’t make me look unhealthy. I tend not to wear it everyday, but as needed and never overdone. Given how little I use, it can take me a while to discover that I’ve been misled into believing there’s more in the container than it appears.

I hate being misled.

Recently I’ve discovered someone I was “friendly with” has acted in a decidedly unfriendly way towards me. What makes it interesting is how this person has remained virtually the same in their behavior to my face but behind my back, oh my!

The worst part is not how blind I was to it, but how much of my energy over the last few days has been focused internally as I’ve wondered why I suddenly became the subject of gossipy untruths and what to do with my disappointment.

Gossip is currency to some people, I get that and I really don’t mind if people talk about me if what they’re saying is the truth and they have my permission to share it.

Making it up as you go is never a good option because it just takes one slip up for the depth of deception to be revealed. Discovering how little there really was to my pot of blush after it broke when I dropped it was disappointing, but not unexpected. The lack of substance in someone I thought might become a friend caught me completely by surprise given some of our conversations.

I tend to be a bit of a “Pollyanna” with my optimistic enthusiasm and I may add a little blush when my cheeks need a bit of color, but I don’t make stuff up unless I’m writing fiction and I know when to let go.

I used to subscribe to the “three strikes and you’re out” way of thinking that began with American baseball and is now part of the U.S. legal system, but as I’ve gotten older I have less time for games and Maya Angelou’s method makes more sense.

When someone shows you who they are … believe them the first time.