Truth or truth

December 11th, 2014


I have failed. Yes, finally, Matt ‘Father Time,’ ‘Reebs,’ ‘#1 JCU Thighs’ Hribar has finally not been able to conquer a personal objective. For those who placed bets on my life goals, feel free to exchange your gold coins now. For those who didn’t place money down but yet are aghast with pain from hearing that I have failed, I apologize.


Let me give you a backstory. Every academic year, I set myself up with a personal goal that I have always successfully completed. My goal as a freshman was to meet new people and try new experiences. Sophomore year was about solidifying my social life, while strengthening my work ethic. Both goals were reached, and I stand here as a junior well-rounded and quite the tank in terms of my work and accomplishments.


Coming into this fall, my number one goal was to cut down on my blunt, sword-slicing, apple-dicing, furious blade of honesty and instead, have a more neutral and calming personality. I have always made my opinion clear, and for once in my life I wanted to remain mysterious. I wanted to pull the Carmen Sandiego vibe and have people wondering what I truly believed.


Needless to say, I’ve become sharper then ever. If you were to come in contact with my blunt honesty, it would be safe to say that I would tear a large hole through your hull, leaving your emotions stranded at sea, as I, the large iceberg that cometh, continued to strike you. Ouch.


I come across like a nice guy, the social butterfly who would never harm a creature but only drink nectar and pollenate my surroundings. But even butterflies have been known to drink blood. I’m not necessarily cruel with my honesty, I’m just the guy who says the truth and who usually conveys what other people are saying.


For example, in a public school meeting, I called out a presenter who was trying to make data into something it wasn’t. Not only did I give multiple points for why the presenter’s hypothesis was wrong, but I continued to imply that her entire argument lay rest on a foundation of inaccuracy. To this day, the presenter can’t look me in the eye.


Some people think I live on shattering hopes and dreams, like I’m the Joker, waiting for Batman to fall into my obvious traps. I have been told by many co-workers that I “like to get a rouse out of people” as if I’m having verbal warfares with a box of Mike + Ikes. If I wanted to entertain myself, I’d go home and lay on my couch all day binge-watching Nanny 911 (Although, let me make it clear that I’m not saying once in a while I enjoy a good brawl, and on rarer occasion, with a treat).


But what fuels my innate need to be honest? The number one answer could be that I am a terrible liar. The symptoms of me telling a lie include: stammering words, pitchy tone, sporadic eye contact, twitching and the inability to string together words into a sentence. I’ve been asked many times if I was having a stroke when in truth I was white lying my way out of a small, non-mandatory meeting.


Another reason I feel obligated to tell the truth is because I know that I’ve always expected the truth from other people. I want to know if these jeans make me look fat. I want you to tell me how you feel about my work proposal. If you have an issue with me, I’d prefer you to straight-up tell me instead of playing passive-aggressive games with me.


I may have failed my goal, but is it truly a failure? It is really a bad thing that we have overly-honest people?


Perhaps I’m not the problem in social situations. Maybe everyone should be more honest with their families, friends and co-workers. Grab your mug of Honest Tea and sip with me in the name of telling it like you see it.