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Over the course of my life, I’ve had a lot of people try to convince me of things. Somewhere along the way, I started picking up on patterns—subtle cues, odd repetitions, weird energy shifts—and I realized something:

 

When someone is trying really hard to convince you of a truth, that’s your red flag.
They're full of shit.

 

If a person keeps repeating themselves, swears up and down they’re “not doing” something, or randomly brings it up again after the fact?
They’re not reassuring you. They’re revealing themselves.

 

Let’s walk through it.

 

Say things are off with your spouse. You feel it. That weird tension in your gut, the change in routine, the small disconnect that doesn’t match the excuses. So you do what most rational people would do: you go digging.

 

Maybe you don’t find anything concrete—just small things. Inconsistencies. Shadows of truth. You bring it up. You argue. There's gaslighting. Eventually, you back off and convince yourself, “Maybe it’s just me.”

 

But then… a few days later, your spouse brings it up again.
Jokingly. Casually.
“I still can’t believe you thought I was having an affair.”

 

Pause.

 

Why are you still thinking about that? Why are you still defending yourself days later?

 

Because guilt has a voice, and it’s always looking for reassurance that it hasn’t been found out.

 

Now let’s zoom out to a work example.

 

I once had a female leader who, in almost every conversation, would bring up how much she “supports women in leadership.”
It was constant.
Loud. Overstated. Exhausting.

 

But when it came time to actually support those women—writing performance reviews, giving recommendations for internal moves—she sabotaged us. More than once.

 

Looking back, I have to wonder:
Was she trying to convince us… or herself?

Maybe she had deep-rooted issues with women. Maybe she was still bleeding from her own experience and didn’t even know she was cutting the rest of us in the process.

 

Even my littles do this.

When they’re lying?
They go to extremes to convince me.
Wild stories, dramatic reenactments, Oscar-worthy performances.

 

The funny part? It’s those extremes that give them away. Their stories go too far. Too detailed. Too perfect.

 

And the truth? It’s usually just quiet. Unbothered. It doesn’t need to be repeated 17 times to land.