“Don’t tell mom” was a common phrase in the Holmes household when we were little. No amount of candy or toys offered to me could stop the tears from streaming down my face after my sister and I’s impromptu wrestling match turned into an injury faster than her masking my mouth with her hand as she loudly whispered, “Please don’t tell mom! I’ll let you hit me back!”. I remember my poor father struggling to get me out of bed while my mom was away on her countless work trips. He would try to avoid being late to work himself by giving me a little glass of soda to subside my tiredness and was only saved by his plea of, “Don’t tell mom”. When he accidentally used a new curse word in front of us? “Don’t tell mom”. When one of us wanted just one more candy corn from the bowl? “Don’t tell mom”. However, while this may have worked within our mischievous trio, I learned early on that this was not the case in the real world.

It was a regular Wednesday during lunchtime at Congers Elementary. I stood on the lunch line with my best friend at the time, Gabriella as the smell of rubbery cafeteria food surrounded us. Gabriella was very small for her age but packed a spicy personality. Due to our conflicting personalities, we didn’t get along one hundred percent of the time but, for the most part, we were pretty inseparable. I, the pickiest eater of all time, had ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and was desperately trying to protect it from the foreign baked beans that threatened my willingness to eat my lunch. I started to enter my pin into the lunch lady's pad as Gabriella asked, “What are you doing this weekend?”.

It seemed a simple enough question but you have to realize that my parents put me in theatre at the age of seven and it wasn’t just a shot in the dark. I was a superb storyteller. I turned heads at family reunions as I told my elderly relatives about all of the things my parents would have rathered stayed within our house. On cruise ships, I was the first to raise my hand to be apart of the interactive game show where I made sure everyone would remember me. This characteristic of mine led me to be the most interesting kid on the playground when I told the other kids about my pet shark with his very own tank in my garage or my best friend who was born in the same hospital as me, on the same day, at the same time. None of these were believable and, to anyone with common sense, I probably looked like a total nincompoop. However, I was taught that when telling a story one of your biggest assets is to know your audience. I had these kids in the palm of my hand. If I could get them to believe that I went to a different school at night where I ate glow in the dark strawberries, surely I could come up with some decently interesting weekend plans.

I turned towards Gabriella and very nonchalantly stated, “Oh, well my family and I are moving on Friday”.

“What?!” she exclaimed, “Where are you moving to?”

 We had always been neighbors and had played outside together since we were little. So, naturally, this was quite a shock.

“We’re moving to Florida. Bright and early. I won’t even be on the bus.” I sighed to seal the deal and we walked back to the lunch table. She started asking me all about why I was moving to Florida and what kind of house I’d be living in and with every question I had a perfectly articulated answer. 

The news of my impending departure spread like a raging wildfire across the cafeteria. Everyone was devastated to learn of my sudden and tragic move. It was as if I was a celebrity. 

By the end of the day, I had successfully fooled everyone and was feeling pretty good about it. I had gotten all of the attention I was seeking. At that age, attention was an addiction to me. Negative or positive I craved for it and worked to get it. Nevertheless, my spectacular triumph would turn into a failure of massive proportions later that night. I had forgotten all about my lie and continued to go about my nightly routine when my mom and dad sat me down. My mom is a very successful and hardworking woman and as I’ve grown older I’ve become more appreciative of the strong female role model she gave me. She would often call my sister and I, "future CEOs" So disappointing her was not something that I even remotely strived to do. However, she is also one of the kindest and most understanding people I’ve ever met and when I saw her rub her head and walk towards me with her soft features scrunched up, I knew I had done it this time.

“So, Julianna,” my mom started, “is there anything you’d like to tell us about school?”

“Nope” I lied as my sweaty palms made it hard to hold onto my sleek iPod.

“Nothing at all?” She further prompted

“Not that I can recall” I shakily answered, feeling my heart beating out of my chest.

“That’s funny because Karen Lugo called me and said that Julia told her that you said you were moving on Friday?” She started to spell out all the flaws of my lie, “She seemed pretty upset to hear that you wouldn’t be able to be on the soccer team anymore.” I sat there flabbergasted as I realized that I wasn’t as high and mighty as I had thought myself not five minutes prior. Water welled up in my eyes as I had realized how wrong I was. I sat and wallowed in my loss as my mom continued to lecture me on the importance of honesty and dignity.

“Mommy knows everything. We always know when you tell a lie” My mom concluded her speech. 

After that day, “Don’t tell mom” was not so much an oath between our unholy trinity, but more of an inside joke. I would never lie to my mom after that and if I did I would quickly come clean as the pressure of keeping information from her was too overwhelming. Honesty became one of my most valued characteristics and I was forever grateful for my move to Florida that never was. The resulting honesty would help me in school as I was not physically able to cheat on a test, copy answers, or lie about forgetting homework at home. I learned that day that the truth always comes out and if you are consistently honest you get more privileges because of the trust you build with others. I hope to continue building that trust, not only with others but with myself.