Honesty Part II: Integrity and Honesty Without

Last week was about the lies we tell ourselves. This week is about the ones we tell each other.

In part two of this series on honesty, George and Liz tackle the external side: how we show up in our relationships, why honest conversations feel so hard, and what it actually takes to build trust with the people who matter most.

Why This Conversation Matters

We all know honesty is important. We teach it to our kids. We expect it from our partners. We demand it from our leaders.

So why does it need a whole episode?

Because knowing something matters and actually doing it are two very different things. George opens with a quote from Mary Kay Ash that cuts straight to it:

"Honesty is the cornerstone of all success, without which confidence and ability to perform shall cease to exist."

Honesty builds trust. Trust is the foundation of any meaningful connection. Without it, relationships become shaky and doubtful. And if you've ever been in a relationship like that, you know it's not where you want to be.

But there's more. Honesty also encourages accountability. It's about taking responsibility for your actions, owning up to your mistakes, and learning from them. When you're honest, you hold yourself to a higher standard. And that standard leads to greater success and satisfaction in every area of life.

George pulls in Proverbs 16:28: "A dishonest man spreads strife, and a whisperer separates close friends."

The opposite of that is being an honest person. And when you're honest, you invite others around you to do the same.

The Deathbed Request

George shares a story he's never told publicly before.

He has two sets of parents. Two moms, two dads. When you move 2,400 miles away from one set of your parents by age three, there are bound to be issues.

He and his biological father hadn't spoken for years. They're cut from the same cloth. Stubborn. Bullheaded. Strong beliefs. Passionate love they try to hide. The similarity made them clash.

Then George's grandmother passed away. On her deathbed, she looked at his father and said: "You need to fix it. It's not his fault."

"When I heard my dad say that grandma said he needed to fix it because it wasn't my fault, I immediately was relieved. I almost felt like somebody finally saw me."

They met at a bar. Sat down for beers. Had what George calls a raw, honest, cleansing yet dirty conversation about past and future.

His father explained he'd stayed away because he thought it would be best for George. That he could just be happy where he was, with who he was with.

George didn't skip a beat. "That's not what I needed and not what I wanted. I always wanted you in my life, and I didn't understand why you didn't want to be there."

They ended with a promise: let's never let this happen again. Let's always focus on having a good relationship.

"Since that day, it's like any human relationship. You laugh, you cry, you struggle sometimes. But we've always come back to: no, we're good. We're good because we're not where we once were. And we're not where we once were because we are willing to be honest with each other."

When You Call the Lamp a Pony

Liz shares her own story about a friendship that had been stuck in the same cycle for six years.

They kept trying to keep things simple. They'd go circumstance by circumstance, situation by situation. Taking turns apologizing. A never-ending, exhausting tennis match.

Then something shifted. Liz was asked if she wanted to hang out, and for the first time ever, her immediate reaction was: I don't want to do that.

She'd never felt that way before. This was one of her favorite people on the planet. She went out of her way to spend time with them. That reaction was a signal.

"I realized I needed to dog-ear this feeling like a spot in a book and come back to it later when I could actually look at it with a clear mind."

When they finally sat down to talk, Liz had notes. Props. Structure. She walked through each part of the problem, said all the quiet parts out loud, then looked them dead in the eye.

"Wow. I wonder why everything feels so complicated all the time. What could it possibly be?"

The problem had been compounding for six years because they kept avoiding the real conversation.

"Let's pretend for a moment that our friendship is a lamp. Apparently, at some point over the past six years, you and I went, let's just tell everybody it's a pony."

George captures it perfectly: When I hear 'we just wanted to keep it simple,' what I hear is that we just decided we're going to lie to ourselves and to each other.

"Lies are like onions. There's layers deep usually. They stink. And at the end, they make you cry anyway."

The Distance You Don't Notice

Every time you choose not to say the quiet part out loud, you're taking a step back from the other person.

Step back. Step back. Step back.

Then one day, you look up and they're a thousand miles away. And you have no idea how you got there.

Liz explains why she'd been holding back for so long:

"There has always been a fragility about our connection. Even though it is also, in a very juxtaposing and almost contradictory way, incredibly strong. But I was so afraid that me challenging this area of our connection would be the final straw."

She also didn't know what to say. She knew something was wrong. She could feel it. But she couldn't name it. And she was afraid that showing up with just vague feelings would make things worse.

So she chose comfortable confusion over clarity.

The conversation that finally happened was harder than she expected in some ways. Easier in others.

"It was easier in that I had to acknowledge: do I feel safe enough to tell the truth in this situation? I knew this was worth fighting for. This is one of the connections where I feel the most psychologically safe."

The question isn't just whether you're willing to tell the truth. It's whether you trust the relationship enough to withstand it.

Understanding Your Intentions

Before you speak, George recommends taking a beat. Ask yourself: why do I need to be honest right now?

"Is it to help the other person? Clear the air? Or am I just trying to unburden myself? Is this a selfish act of honesty? Or is it to better the situation that we're in?"

Your intentions need to be good. They need to guide you to deliver honesty in a way that's compassionate rather than chaotic.

Sometimes the answer is to hold back. If the truth is likely to cause unnecessary pain without any real benefit, it might be kinder to find a more gentle way to address the issue. Or a better time.

"Sometimes, as honest as you want to be, there is just a season to keep your mouth shut. Zip it, dude. Just zip it for right now."

Honest Versus Hurtful

Liz draws an important distinction.

Sometimes your feelings are directly tied to facts. Someone did something wrong. You have every right to be upset. The conversation needs to happen.

But other times, your feelings aren't actually reflecting what happened. You're having a level 15 reaction to a level 4 situation. Nobody needs to deal with that.

"I tend to err on the side of, unless I can constructively show up with my feelings and explain what I'm feeling, why I'm feeling it, how I got here, and what I'm looking to achieve in terms of addressing it, I have a hard time saying that out loud."

This can look like dishonesty. It can feel like waiting for the other shoe to drop. But the intention isn't deception. It's making sure your response is actually useful.

The goal isn't a you versus them confrontation. It's showing up and saying: we have manifested this chaos together. Can we fix it?

The CEO and the COO

Liz offers a framework for understanding the balance between intuition and rational thought.

Your intuition is the CEO. It sets the vision. It knows what you really want, what lights you up, what feels like a full-body yes or a full-body no.

Your brain is the COO. It takes that vision and asks: how do we make this practical? What are the risks? Where are the gaps?

You need both. The COO isn't just there to challenge your vision. It's there to help you achieve it. But ultimately, the CEO gets to override.

"The COO isn't just there to challenge your vision to make sure it is sound and it is achievable. It is also incumbent upon you as the CEO of your own life to push back and say, this is what we're doing."

Developing Greater Integrity

George offers practical advice for anyone struggling to be more honest.

Learn from your mistakes. Acknowledge when you catch yourself being dishonest. Own it in the moment. George has stopped mid-sentence and said: "Hold up. I don't know why I said that. That's just bullshit. Here's the actual truth."

When you do that, people notice. They trust you more, not less.

Reflect on what led to the dishonesty. If you're prone to do it once, you'll probably do it again. Think about how you can handle similar situations better in the future.

Mark Twain put it simply: "If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything."

Be specific and direct. Vague statements lead to misunderstandings. Misunderstandings lead to conflict. Clear communication prevents both.

Practice active listening. Flip your phone over. Look at the person. Pay attention to their words and their expressions. This builds mutual respect and creates space for honest dialogue.

Lead by example. Model the behavior you want to see. When others see you prioritize honesty, they're more likely to do the same.

George closes with Proverbs 10:9: "Whoever walks in integrity walks securely, but whoever takes crooked paths will be found out."

"When I think about this one, I want to walk securely. I'd much rather walk securely versus always being nervous or anxious about being found out."

Quotable Moments

"Honesty is the cornerstone of all success, without which confidence and ability to perform shall cease to exist." — Mary Kay Ash

"Lies are like onions. There's layers deep usually. They stink. And at the end, they make you cry anyway."

"Before speaking, I like to ask myself: why do I need to be honest? Is it to help the other person, or am I just trying to unburden myself?"

"Integrity is doing the right thing even when no one is watching." — C.S. Lewis

"Real integrity is doing the right thing knowing that nobody's going to know whether you did it or not." — Oprah Winfrey

"If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything." — Mark Twain

Your One Thing

George's takeaway: The goal is progress, not perfection. Every step you take towards greater honesty strengthens your character and builds a foundation for more authentic and meaningful relationships. Your brain is reprogrammable. Give yourself time after this episode to ask: where do I need to reprogram my brain around honesty?

Liz's takeaway: Every time you choose not to say the quiet part out loud, you're taking a step back from the other person. Keep doing that, and one day you'll look up and they'll be a thousand miles away. The question isn't just whether you're willing to tell the truth. It's whether you trust the relationship enough to withstand it.

Reflection Questions

1. Is there a relationship in your life where you've been choosing comfortable confusion over clarity? What would it take to have the honest conversation?
2. When you're about to be honest with someone, what are your intentions? Are you trying to help the situation, or just unburden yourself?
3. Think about a time you didn't speak up when you should have. What were you afraid of? Was that fear accurate?
4. Are your feelings about a current situation in the same room as the facts? Or are you having a level 15 reaction to something that's really a level 4?
5. Who in your life models honest communication well? What can you learn from how they handle difficult conversations?

Ready to go deeper? Press play above and hear George and Liz work through the full conversation. If the first episode was about getting honest with yourself, this one is about bringing that honesty into your relationships. Both episodes together form the complete picture of what it means to live with integrity.