Stop Lying To Yourself Book Novels & Stories

I was going to become a mother in less than few months, and reading books about self development really helped me. I stopped swearing a lot, I stopped reacting a lot to things, especially negative emotions but I doubt I would be able to control myself with Damon around me. Taking a deep breath, I walked to my bedside table, pouring a glass of water for myself and then I stared at myself in the mirror. Kara and Evelyn's words replaying in my mind, life was giving me a second chance, so why was I holding back? The father of my child and the love of my life was downstairs, wanting to make amends, wanting us back and I was here hiding from what exactly?

“Then we can’t be friends anymore.” A pang shot through me at her words. I swallowed hard and looked down at my hands. For a moment, I considered doing what I had been doing all this time: lying, or coming up with an excuse, or using some outside factor as a distraction to get away. I’d done it so many times before that it felt like instinct by now. But I was so tired of lying. Especially to her. Maybe Colt was right. Maybe I was just as bad as Vivian ar times. But at least I could try to be better. And the first step to being better was to stop keeping everything bottled up inside until it exploded. To stop alienating the people I cared about.

“I’m scared, Noah. What if I fail? What if they sign me and then realize I’m not who they thought I was?” He crossed the room, crouching beside me so we were eye level. “Adrian, listen to me. You are talented. You’ve poured your soul into this book, and that’s why people will love it. You’re not pretending to be anyone else, you’re sharing your truth. And that’s more than enough.” His words settled deep in my chest, quieting the storm of insecurity. I reached for his hand, holding it tightly. “I just… I don’t want to let you or the kids down.”

“You need to lie to yourself, make up memories of things that didn’t happen, and use those to block me from being able to see things that did take place.” I shake my head, chuckling in disbelief? “Is it that easy?” “It sounds easy. It’s not. You have to… make yourself believe in those lies. They have to feel totally, completely real.” “How does that stop someone from being able to see into my head, though? They still would. They’d just be seeing something I made up.”

he starts, "I tried to convince myself that I hate you when you left. I wanted to hate you so bad for it because you destroyed every piece of me. "So I told myself that I hated you every day, everytime I thought of you, but I knew it was meaningless. I fucking knew that it was all just a fucking lie, going to rip me inside out, yet I still did it. I'm ready to stop this fucking lying to myself now, I think. "So we should take it slow, I need to start being what you need me to be. So I'm asking you, if I stop smoking, would you take me back?"

“Yes.” The honesty hits me harder than reassurance would have. “Then why stay?” I whisper. “Because you asked me not to disappear.” My chest tightens. I hug myself, nails digging into my arms to ground myself. “I feel like I’m losing parts of myself,” I admit. “Like my body is making decisions ahead of me.” Cass steps closer—still not touching. “Then anchor yourself,” he says. “Name things. Speak them.” I sniff. “What kind of things?”

They wanted the shiny, resilient version of Fallon who rose from the ashes with glossy skin and a skincare routine. But I wasn’t ready to rise. Not yet. First, I needed to rest. First, I needed to feel everything I’d been running from. Some nights, I took out the book Reid gave me years ago—The Art of Stillness. I didn’t read it. I just ran my hand across the note he’d written on the inside flap: In case you forget how to stop. He never forgot how to stop. He just forgot how to stay. I placed the book back on the shelf—top corner, spine out. Like it was watching over the room but no longer running it.

I said gently, “you don’t owe anyone a version of yourself that makes them comfortable, especially if it costs you your peace.” He blinked fast again, then looked down. “I feel like I’m lying just by… breathing,” he said. “I’ve been trying to figure it out on my own. But I keep thinking what if I tell Eli, and I can’t be the person he needs me to be?” “He deserves honesty,” he added quietly. “And someone who can hold his hand in public without looking over his shoulder every second. I don’t know if I can be that guy.” I let out a breath. “You don’t have to be ready for everything today. You just have to stop running from it. That’s the first step.”

I frowned. "What?" "Honesty." He rested his arms against the back of the bench. "If we're going to work on your confidence, you can't spend every conversation telling people what you think they want to hear." I looked down at my notebook. "Then where do I start?" "With something simple." He pointed toward the notebook. "Put it away." I hesitated. "Why?" "Because you're hiding behind it." I stared at him. He wasn't wrong. Slowly, I closed the notebook and placed it beside me.

“Eudora, I know you just want to help but are you sure you really want to do this?” I asked myself again in my head if I was really going to do it and I kept getting the same answer. And it felt like I could speak for myself even if it’s just one time. “Just this once, Lillian. If it doesn’t go well, if she still refuses to talk to me or read my book, then I’ll stop.” It took everything in me to say I’ll stop but I knew I would have no choice but to stop anyway. Lillian nodded in agreement.