The Weight of Integrity

There is a type of power that may exist unbeknownst to our society—a power to restrain speech that one could have spoken. This restraint isn’t reflective of weakness or cowardliness—it is an extension of a person’s character and values. People speak about loyalty and integrity all the time in public but usually disrespect and dishonor them in their emotional responses. Integrity is never tested in calmness; it is tested in discomfort, and especially in chaos, like during or just after separating or navigating a relationship that has become fractured.

I want to be clear that I don’t want to divulge another person’s private thoughts in the public square, even if the relationship went south. If you trusted me with a secret while we were friends, I won’t forget that trust just because we are no longer in a close relationship. I was taught that when someone trusts you with something, it is because they respect you, not because they relinquish the right to that trust as a weapon when the friendship ends. Your secrets don’t become weapons at my disposal to use against you after our relationship ends.

Some people believe that when they have ended friendships, their shared experiences, confidences, and intimate relationships become fair game because of the “fallout.” Then they may use those as a weapon of retaliation or pettiness to provide their viewpoint.

Such actions often reveal more about the behavior of the perpetrator than the individual whose confidences are being shared. But if your character only exists when the going is good, and it falls to pieces when you are hurting, then you never had character to begin with. We are in a time that is so desperate for other people’s attention, sympathy, and validation that people will hopelessly compromise their morals for a sad buzz.

You will happily co-conspire behind an individual’s back and share scandalous gossip that was never yours to share. Then you will tell the scandalous gossip and run with it like it is gold. You will spew it like a virus. And then you will wonder why people do not want to engage with you or why the narrative begins to change. It is incredible. People still do not realize that no amount of attention can wash away the scent of being untrustworthy.

There is nothing commendable about being the person who derives satisfaction from disparaging others’ misfortunes. Neither does it make you courageous with some story—it makes you weak as a person. Neither does it make you honest with the truth—it makes you foolish. And neither does it make you someone who can love any of their people—it makes you a dangerous person, in the worst way.

Some notable acts are not harmful via violence, but there is harm in betrayal. To have taken something from you that someone told you in confidence, to betray that trust, and to create gossip about that person is cowardly. Especially when you waited until the person was no longer capable of speaking for themselves in your life. There is nothing precious to gain by delving into another person’s truth—only temporary power and then forever remorse.

Karma never misses. And if you truly believe in karma, then you know karma does not concern itself with loud; it is quiet justice. Karma does not need a stage; it does not need an audience. Karma is quietly sitting in the background and counting the motivations (or lack thereof) in your actions. It asks only one question: Who are you when no one is watching?

Are you still the individual who retains dignity, even when experiencing anger or other strong emotions, or hurt? Or are you the person with a shoot of dignity for selfish interests? If your integrity disappears as soon as you feel you have been betrayed or left out, your integrity never existed; it was an act.

It is entirely possible to feel angry towards other people. This is a part of living. However, when people stop being “friends,” or when it is entirely over in terms of a friendship or acquaintanceship, it matters how you live or behave after that. Do you choose dignity? Or do you select revenge or punishment? Do you walk away quietly but take your dignity with you? Or do you degrade yourself to smear another person’s reputation in an attempt to lift yourself?

I always choose the quiet choice over the public fit of petty revenge. I always select integrity over impulse. As tragic as this all may be, I know who I am, and I will not let fleeting emotions inflict permanent damage on my character. The kind of friend I am is not dependent on how situations unfold. Sure, I have a fidelity to my feelings, but I will never disown my past. That is true loyalty.

If you genuinely care about being a decent human being, then it will show through your paralysis during inopportune times, alongside your kindness when good things are going on. Real character shows up when there is an opportunity to operate from a messy place, and you choose to be civilized. When you can discredit someone you know well, but instead are amicable.

If you believe it’s cool or clever to criticize someone right after an explosive interaction, understand that your words during this moment of betrayal are damaging your integrity. Although you might gain some new followers, people will ultimately remember how you handled the tension. They will recall whether your conduct was discreet and reserved or volatile and explosive.

Allow your loyalty to surpass your ego. Let it be evident through your silence rather than through any sensational narrative you might create. Ultimately, your actions towards others, even those no longer part of your life, serve as a reflection of your character, not theirs.

Being trustworthy is a part of someone’s character. For the few of us who know and have known this, the prize is not always an accolade; more often it is a peace of mind, a clear head, and a heart free from unnecessary burdens.

And that is worth much more than any petty satisfaction gossip may offer.