8 things people lie about so often they've forgotten they're lying—you're probably doing #3 right now

Have you ever caught yourself mid-sentence and realized you were saying something that wasn't quite true? Not a big lie, just one of those automatic responses that roll off your tongue without thinking?

I had this moment last week when someone asked how I was doing, and I chirped "Great!" while actively dealing with a migraine and three overdue deadlines. It hit me then: we've become so comfortable with certain lies that we don't even register them as dishonest anymore.

After spending years as a financial analyst, I learned to spot patterns in human behavior. Numbers don't lie, but people do, especially to themselves. And the most dangerous lies? The ones we tell so often they've become our truth.

Here are eight things we're all probably fibbing about without even realizing it.

1. "I'm fine"

This might be the most universal lie we tell. Someone asks how you're doing, and regardless of whether you're drowning in stress, battling anxiety, or just had the worst day of your month, out comes that reflexive "I'm fine."

Why do we do this? Sometimes it's easier than explaining our actual feelings. Sometimes we think nobody really wants to hear the truth. But mostly, we've been conditioned to believe that admitting struggle is weakness.

The problem is, when you constantly dismiss your own feelings, you start believing the lie. You push down what's real until you can't even access it anymore. I spent years in corporate telling everyone I was fine while my stress levels were through the roof. It wasn't until I started being honest about my struggles that real connections started forming.

2. "I don't have time for that"

We all have the same 24 hours, yet somehow we've convinced ourselves we're uniquely time-starved. "I'd love to exercise, but I don't have time." "I wish I could read more, but there aren't enough hours in the day."

Here's what I've noticed: we find time for what matters to us. When I tracked my time for a week, I discovered I was spending three hours scrolling through social media while claiming I had no time to train for that 5K.

The truth? It's not about time. It's about priorities. And that's okay! You don't have to do everything. But stop lying about why you're not doing it.

3. "I'll start tomorrow"

Are you telling yourself this right now about something? Maybe it's that diet, that project, that difficult conversation you need to have?

Tomorrow is the most dangerous word in our vocabulary. It's where dreams go to die. During my finance days, I watched people say they'd start saving "tomorrow" for twenty years straight. Tomorrow never came because tomorrow is always a day away.

The lie here isn't just about procrastination. It's about convincing ourselves we're committed to change when we're actually committed to staying exactly where we are. Real change happens today, even if it's just one tiny step.

4. "Money doesn't matter to me"

After nearly two decades analyzing financial behavior, I can tell you this: everyone cares about money, and that's not a character flaw. Money represents security, freedom, choices.

People who claim money doesn't matter are usually doing one of two things. Either they have enough that they can afford not to think about it, or they're protecting themselves from the disappointment of not having as much as they want.

I've seen millionaires obsess over pennies and struggling artists claim complete indifference while checking their bank balance daily. The healthiest approach? Admit that money matters, figure out how much is enough for you, and stop pretending you're above caring about it.

5. "I don't care what people think"

If this were true, you wouldn't need to say it. People who genuinely don't care what others think don't announce it. They just live their lives.

We're social creatures. Caring what others think is literally wired into our survival instincts. The key isn't to stop caring entirely but to be selective about whose opinions matter.

I used to pride myself on not caring what people thought while simultaneously crafting every social media post for maximum approval. The exhaustion of that performance eventually forced me to confront the truth: I cared deeply, and pretending otherwise was keeping me from genuine connections.

6. "I'm not a judgmental person"

Your brain makes thousands of snap judgments every day. It's how we navigate the world. We judge whether situations are safe, whether people are trustworthy, whether opportunities are worth pursuing.

The people who insist they never judge are often the quickest to form opinions. They've just gotten good at hiding it or dressing it up as "concern" or "observation."

Being human means being judgmental sometimes. The goal isn't to eliminate judgment but to recognize it, question it, and choose compassion anyway. Some of my strongest friendships started with people I initially judged and was completely wrong about.

7. "I'm too busy"

Busy has become our favorite excuse and our favorite badge of honor. We wear it like armor, protecting us from requests, responsibilities, and sometimes even relationships.

But here's what I learned after years of being "too busy": busy is often a choice. We fill our schedules because empty space feels uncomfortable. We say yes to everything because saying no feels selfish. We stay busy because stillness forces us to face ourselves.

During my achievement addiction phase, I was always too busy for coffee with friends, too busy for hobbies, too busy for rest. What I was really saying was that these things weren't important enough. Once I started being honest about that, I could make different choices.

8. "I don't hold grudges"

Really? You don't remember that comment from five years ago? That slight from your coworker? That time your friend canceled last minute?

Most of us are walking around with a mental filing cabinet of grievances, even while proclaiming our forgiveness. We say we've let things go while secretly keeping score.

True forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting or pretending something didn't hurt. It means acknowledging the pain and choosing to release its hold on you. Some of the most growth I've experienced came from admitting I was still angry about things I claimed to be over.

Final thoughts

These lies aren't character flaws. They're coping mechanisms we've developed to navigate a complicated world. We lie about being fine because vulnerability feels dangerous. We lie about our priorities because the truth might disappoint people. We lie about our feelings because honesty requires courage we're still building.

The point isn't to never tell these lies again. That's probably impossible. The point is to notice when you're doing it, pause, and ask yourself why. What are you protecting? What are you afraid of? What would happen if you told the truth instead?

Start small. Next time someone asks how you are, and you're not fine, try saying so. See what happens. You might be surprised to find that honesty, even about small things, creates space for the authentic connections we're all craving.

After all, the truth might be uncomfortable, but it's a lot less exhausting than maintaining all these lies.