Telling a woman she’s bad in bed in the name of honesty? No thank you

Everyone calls the program an “experiment,” giving the impression that it’s part of a grand sociological and scientific study, and a far cry from your ordinary salacious entertainment television.

But, to be fair to MAFSA, this is a brilliantly produced show and even across all those hours of airtime there is a minimal amount of television filler. Which is impressive considering that 35 percent of most reality shows seem to consist of sepia-toned flashback footage of the previous week’s episode.

This year I’ve noticed how many conversations revolve around the importance of honesty. It is, as we are often told, the foundation of all healthy relationships, a quality that should be valued above all else. The implication is that the more honest someone is, the more capable and deserving of love they are.

This assumption isn’t just limited to reality TV shows: the vast majority of articles, books, and expert opinion advise that the ability to tell the truth — the whole truth and nothing but the truth — is the cornerstone of successful relationships.

But the cloak of honesty can often hide a multitude of sins. Take motivational speaker Andrew from MAFSA, who decided to tell his new wife Holly on their honeymoon that he doesn’t judge her in bed.

“I didn’t enjoy it, if I’m going to be completely honest with you. I’ve had one-night stands where the partner was more into me… If I just wanted to wind down, I could just do it on my own.”

Reminder that this man is a motivational speaker: one can only wonder what kind of encouragement talks he offers his clients. When asked about his comments, he replied, “I can only be honest.”

It’s understandable why the idea of ​​honesty appeals to some people. It’s powerful. Telling the truth demands attention.

Unfortunately, this means it can be used as a tool to insult and hurt. It also allows a person to appear to be acting out of integrity and with the highest motives. When the offended person gets upset, it just seems like they can’t handle the truth.

But honesty is totally subjective. It is usually not based on facts, but on opinions. For example, I’m honest when I say rancheros are the best flavored chips ever invented, but that doesn’t make it a universal truth. I’m sure others would argue that Skips deserves that title (and of course they would be wrong).

Maybe we should stop glorifying honesty. Especially when microacts of dishonesty are often the key to success in relationships — romantic or not.

I’m not talking about big ticket things; like having a secret second family, or quietly deciding to invest your partner’s life savings in NFTs, or setting the house on fire and then blaming the dog. Under these circumstances, honesty is perhaps the best policy.

But for little things? We don’t need 100 percent sincerity. In fact, I think most people would prefer a bit of truth presented alongside a healthy dose of flattering dishonesty.

This isn’t about deceiving or deceiving people – it’s just about holding back some of the thoughts and opinions that are floating around your big ol’ nugget.

In the same way, if you’re asked in a future job interview what your biggest mistake is, it’s probably best to say, “I work too hard,” rather than “I don’t like to listen to authority, and by the way, that suit sucks.” the end.’

If you really want a relationship to work, it’s better to tread softly and rely on a few white lies than to come in with brutal honesty.

I’m afraid there’s no getting past the glamorous Crocs

And now for the Grammys, where the Crocs renaissance is gathering. Pop star Justin Bieber wore a pair of $950 flatform Balenciaga Crocs on the red carpet. While some fashion outlets praised his general weakness, social media was less kind, pointing out that Bieber looked like he’d fished through a find bucket. But back to the shoes. This is one of several designer collaborations Crocs has launched over the past few years. Christopher Kane designed some crystal-encrusted clogs, while Liberty London followed suit, covering the shoes with delicate silk scarves. Every fiber of my being screams no when I see glamorous Crocs, but I have a nagging feeling that they’re going to wear me down eventually.