Trust is a fragile thing, easily shattered but difficult to rebuild. For as long as I can remember, I've encountered betrayal—not just from one or two people, but from nearly everyone who has crossed my path. The irony? To this day, they continue to live in their own deception, yet somehow they view me as the one living the lie. It's a disorienting paradox: the very people who wear masks accuse me of being false.

The Lie We All Live We all construct narratives around ourselves, consciously or unconsciously. Some of us craft stories that reflect who we aspire to be, while others create facades to hide the parts of ourselves we can't bear to confront. In my experience, the people closest to me have often hidden behind these narratives, presenting themselves as trustworthy while slowly unraveling into deception. What’s maddening is that they seem to remain oblivious to their own dishonesty, or worse, they see their lies as justified.

Yet, the greater irony lies in their perception of me. To them, I am the one who isn’t “seeing things clearly,” who somehow lives outside their constructed reality. Their lies become their truth, and in doing so, they cast doubt on my authenticity, as if I’m the one who’s out of step with reality.

The Irony of Projection Psychologists talk about projection—the process by which people project their own flaws, insecurities, or dishonesty onto others. In my life, I’ve witnessed this phenomenon repeatedly. Those who have wronged me, who have lived behind masks of deceit, often accuse me of being the one who is untrustworthy. It’s as if, in maintaining their own lie, they need to believe that I am the one who cannot be trusted, as if my own transparency somehow threatens the stability of their falsehoods.

This projection has become a painful pattern. I’ve been gaslit, manipulated, and pushed into doubting myself because those around me needed to believe in their own deception. The lies they live in require them to reject my truth.

The Challenge of Trust I’ve often wondered if it’s something about me—perhaps my openness, or the way I seem to trust people too easily—that makes me a target for betrayal. My eyes, as people often remark, seem to reflect a certain depth, and maybe that makes people believe I’m an easy mark, someone who will see only what they want me to see. But the truth is, I see much more than they think. I just choose, perhaps naively, to hope for the best in people.

The real challenge lies in learning to trust again, not because I want to protect myself, but because I refuse to let their lies become my worldview. Despite the betrayals, despite the countless facades, I still believe that truth exists—and that perhaps, it’s my persistence in seeking it that others find so threatening.

Breaking Free from the Illusion The ultimate irony is that those who live the lie often accuse others of being false. It’s a way of deflecting responsibility, of shifting the burden of dishonesty onto someone else. But for me, I’ve learned that the only way to break free from this cycle is to stop accepting the roles people try to place on me. I am not the lie. I refuse to wear their masks.

In the end, my eyes—these eyes that people so often comment on—are not blind. They see clearly. They see the layers of deception, the walls people build to protect themselves from their own truths. I’ve come to understand that the greatest strength I possess is not in avoiding betrayal but in recognizing it and moving beyond it. The lies others live will not define me.

Living in a world of deception has made me more aware of my own truth. While others may continue to believe their lies, casting doubt on my authenticity, I know who I am. I am not blind, nor am I deceived. And while betrayal has been a constant, it has also been a teacher, showing me that the strength to remain true to oneself is far more powerful than the temptation to conform to the lies of others.