Thoughts from Everyday Life

What if the very thing we call “goodness” is often misunderstood? We tend to picture a truly good person as someone who is completely selfless. Someone who acts without any concern for their own fulfillment or reward. But is that actually what human beings are like? Or are we demanding something from ourselves that no one can ever really live out?

I’ve heard it said that being a truly honest person means being selfless—as though doing the right thing requires us to erase our own desires and motivations. Yet when we look beneath the surface, that kind of pure selflessness is almost impossible. Pretending we have no personal motives can itself be a little dishonest.

It’s natural to want to feel good about doing the right thing—to enjoy helping someone, telling the truth, or making a difference in another person’s life. The fact that doing good makes us feel good doesn’t necessarily make the goodness less genuine.

Those two things were never meant to be in competition.

Abraham Maslow eventually gave language to this idea with the word synergy—the notion that, at our healthiest, what benefits others and what fulfills us don’t necessarily have to compete. In fact, they can become so closely connected that the line between doing something for another person and doing something that fulfills us begins to disappear.

Perhaps psychology isn’t discovering something entirely new, but rather affirming something God wove into us from the beginning.

Consider a business owner who admits a mistake to a customer, even when it costs a little profit upfront. On the surface, it looks like a sacrifice. But that honesty also protects the customer, builds long-term trust, and allows the owner to walk away with a clear conscience. The good of one person doesn’t have to come at the expense of the other.

When Jesus told us to love our neighbors as ourselves, He wasn’t asking us to empty ourselves into nothingness. He was giving us a beautiful blueprint for how we were created to live. We are social and spiritual beings, made for connection, relationship, and purpose. Loving others isn’t something that works against our flourishing, but one of the ways we experience it.

We see it even more clearly in the way we share our lives with the people we care about.

I was well into adulthood before I learned to face my own feelings and fears—and honestly, I suspect it’s a lifelong process. For years, I hid behind a perceived image of myself. Social media certainly makes it easier to maintain that kind of façade today, but hiding behind an image is nothing new. We’ve been doing it since the beginning of time.

True honesty begins when we remove the mask, and that takes courage, because often the hardest truth to face is our own. Imagine a close friend struggling with something deeply personal. The easiest thing may be to stay quiet and protect our own comfort. But when we choose to be open, authentic, and vulnerable about the difficult things we’ve experienced, something changes. Sharing our flawed, real stories can remind our friend that they aren’t alone. At the same time, it can lift the exhausting weight of pretense from our own shoulders.

We discover that vulnerability doesn’t necessarily diminish us. Sometimes, it connects us.

Our willingness to be honest can help another person while also freeing us to live more genuinely ourselves. The very thing we feared would make us look weak may become the thing that allows someone else to find strength.

That is part of the beautiful way God designed us.

Looking at honesty through both the lenses of psychology and faith changes the way we might think about a virtuous life. We don’t have to chase the impossible standard of becoming completely selfless or pretend our motives are always pure. We can acknowledge that our motives are often mixed and still choose what is good.

The fact that doing good also brings joy isn’t proof of selfishness—it’s evidence that we’re living out one of our greatest purposes in life.

When we stop hiding behind our masks and allow ourselves to be honest about our struggles, our fears, and even our mixed motives, we are not failing to live up to some higher standard of goodness. We may actually be learning what it means to love our neighbors as ourselves.

Walking worthy of our calling, then, isn’t simply a rigid duty to be feared. It’s an invitation to live honestly, love generously, and discover the deep peace and joy that come when we begin to live the way God intended.