“Do you like eating ass?”

That was the question. And Joost; without blinking; answered, “I prefer getting my ass eaten.” The room collapsed into laughter; he just sat there, smiling as if to say, “What? You asked.”

And I thought, yes. That’s me. Not the ass-eating part, (though if you ask, I’ll answer.) But the honesty part; the absolute refusal to dodge the question just because it makes someone else uncomfortable.

It’s not confidence, it’s not attention-seeking, it’s not shock value; it’s something older than all of that. It’s the understanding that if a question is asked, it deserves an answer. Not a performance, not a sidestep, not a prettied-up half-truth.

If you ask, I’ll give you the truth; and if it makes you blush, that’s yours to carry.

I’ve always been like that, people think I’m bold, but really I just don’t see the point in pretending.

Why would I fake shyness to protect your expectations? Why would I lie to make your question easier to swallow?

You opened the door; I just walked through it.

And maybe I laugh a little, not because it was funny, but because the silence that follows honesty is the only thing louder than a lie.

People don’t really want answers, they want theatre; they want the honesty that fits in their palm and doesn’t spill.

But I don’t do spill-proof, I was born overflowing; so when you ask, you don’t get the TV version; you get the truth; raw and blinking in the daylight.

I have answered questions that stopped rooms, I have watched faces fall, not because I was cruel, but because I didn’t play the game.

I didn’t flinch, I didn’t soften, it didn’t even occur to me to soften the truth; I just told you what you said you wanted to know.

You think it’s boldness, you call it brutal honesty, but it isn’t meant to bruise, it’s just clean. Unfiltered. Sacred.

If you ask me something tender, you’ll get tenderness. If you ask me something wild, you’ll get the storm. And if you ask me something personal; really personal; I won’t deflect.

I’ll look you in the eye and say the thing you weren’t sure anyone would say aloud.

Because I don’t believe in shame, I don’t believe in pretending, I believe in truth that stands there naked, still breathing; and my wiring forces me to believe that a question asked, is an answer invited.

So no, I’m not self-confident, I’m just not afraid of being seen, and if that makes people uncomfortable, then maybe they should stop asking questions they don’t really want answers to.

Because when you open the door and invite me in, I’ll walk through it, unapologetically, exactly as I am.

You want honesty? Mean it. Because I don’t lie, even when I probably should.

And I will never ever give you less than the truth.

Even if that truth is:
“Yes, I would throw him in a stream… with love.”