I do what any good liar does. I show up to class, write updated resumes, tell people my ‘interests’ besides being a liar and
occasionally tell the people I sleep with that I really do have feelings for them. 

I used to have social media but unfortunately I wasn’t
a good enough liar for that. 

Couldn’t keep my story straight. Does my life have a sepia filter or black and white? Do I have pore-less
skin or am I the person that accepts my flaws and proudly flaunts them? Am I the person that eats healthy and enjoys going to the
gym? Am I the person that lives a sober life? I couldn’t make a decision about which way to lie to an audience, so I
decided to save myself and others the headache of looking at my pathetically curated profile by deleting it.

I don’t truly know why I think they are lies but it seems that I have been lying my whole life about who I am. As soul-crushing as this
is to think about, that is who I am. Except for orgasms, I’ve prided myself that I have never ever ever ever faked an orgasm.
Maybe I have. I don’t truly know. Fuck.

I think the reason it’s so hard to distinguish if I am lying or if I am telling the truth is because I’ve recently come to terms with the
fact that my memory is absolutely not to be trusted. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment that I’ve told a lie about something, but my
parents definitely caught me with weed once and I’ve definitely blamed it on a friend and how the smell must have rubbed off on me.

“What about your eyes, Rebecca, why are they red then?”

“Well you see, I am on the swim team and you know that, after all you are the one that pays for the lessons; so, smart-ass, the chlorine
must have made its way from the pool water and into the tiny little crevice between my skin and the goggles. So there, tough guy.
That’s why my eyes are red.”

I was grounded for two weeks.

Not that it even mattered. Sure at the time I must have been mad, come on, a fourteen year old not being able to go on Instagram
and post the newest schoolboy q song lyric to signify that I indeed was a pothead while smoking a joint on my profile?!!?? Are you a
serious, Dad? You’re killing me.

No, no, what actually happened was very serious. I lied.

When I was younger I didn’t realize the power of a lie; no one told me that if you say something enough, you might believe it, not just
make others. That’s what sucks about being a liar. I can’t believe myself. So imagine the hardship when a University asks you to
write a personal statement about why you want to be a part of a Biostatistics Masters program and you can’t remember if you
cheated your way through your undergraduate, lied about if you even like math to appease others, and if you even knew what
Biostatistics was before you googled it for your personal statement.

I try to explain this hardship of being a liar to many people, but the thing about being an over-thinker is that sometimes I
think that I lie about lying. HA. The Hardship! Anyways, I realized that if you tell people you’re a liar about your likes, dislikes, how
you spend your time and who you are, many people don’t want to hear it. So, I end up shoving my existential dread about being a liar
under my bed and proceed to go on with my day. I’m at work right now…

I realize that there are many other hardships for people to go through and overthinking about if you are a liar or not is a privilege that I
have because I can really ponder this question as I eat baked tofu and steamed kale before my hot yoga class. I realize this. I am
SUPER introspective which is why I can with certainty say that I know I am a narcissistic liar as well.

I know what you’re thinking. Stop lying. HA. If only it would be so easy, foolish of you to assume that that would be the answer. You
know what they say! The proof is in the pudding! I’ve tried to stop lying but sometimes a lie catches me by surprise, a past lie you see
that I can absolutely not under any circumstances rectify. I truly don’t know what I’ll do.

I’ve recently come to terms with being a liar and decided to follow up on any opinion or event that has transpired in my ‘life’ with “but I
might be lying”. I’ve decided that this absolves me in the event that someone catches me and says something like “that never
happened, you’re lying.” It’s a gamble but it’s been working out pretty well. 

Of course, I try to tell the truth but it seems that no one
wants to hear it. Because telling the truth would involve telling people that I don’t know who I am or what I want to do with my life.
My dad always said to “fake it till you make it” and I never understood what that meant and I’m embarrassed to tell him that I don’t
think I’m faking all too well. I’ve tried asking him what exactly I am meant to fake and he couldn’t tell me. So what
fucking advice that was.

Guess that’s it. 

-Liar