“I have lived a good and honest life.”

This was one of the things my mom said to me when she was in the hospital, a time I generally prefer not to look back on because it’s too painful.

But today, I share this to focus on her message, not on the context or environment in which she said it.

When my mom said this to me, I was struggling a lot and didn’t ask her what she meant. But for the past few years, I have regularly come back to this message and wondered what she exactly meant by an “honest” life. I’ve also been curious with her choice to define her life in this way, of all the descriptions to choose from. How does one choose just one or two words to describe their life by, after all? It’s no small thing.

A few weeks ago, I was having a discussion with Nikhil. He was telling me about a conversation he had with someone he cared about that was really challenging. He had to tell this person things that would hurt them, but he felt it best to be honest rather than sugarcoat and mislead them. He knew that even though it was a tough conversation to have in the moment, and didn’t make him or the other person feel good (despite trying to deliver the message with sensitivity and kindness), it was the right thing to do for this person in the longer term.

Standing there with Nikhil, discussing this challenging conversation, I had a lightbulb moment. All of a sudden, I got it – I knew what my mom meant about living an honest life. I got a little overwhelmed with emotion; this statement that was so simple yet profound finally made sense.

Let me explain by sharing a couple examples:

Using another of Nikhil’s experiences – A few years ago, for those of you who don’t know, Nikhil decided to co-found a company called Vipassana with a friend. The company’s focus was around offering a platform for individuals to thrive by openly sharing their challenges and successes within a safe space and participating in, effectively, a game of life.

Nikhil recently recalled to me that when he first pitched his plans about launching the company to our family, he was expecting excitement and elatedness – but he didn’t quite get it from my mom. Instead, to his disappointment she raised some questions and concerns. He recently told me that he could see it in her eyes that it pained her to do this instead of her participating in the excitement.

Ultimately Nikhil and his business partner did launch the company, and Nikhil really did some great work and had a truly life-changing impact on a number of Vipassana members. But along with way, he did see that my mom’s concerns were correct and did manifest. With hindsight, he concluded that there was much wisdom in her initial response to the business.

I imagine it would’ve been easier for my mom to exclaim in jubilation and simply applaud Nikhil for his entrepreneurial spirit. Think about it: It never feels good to let down someone you love. But she chose the path of honesty, the difficult path but the path she believed to be right.

Another instance of this honesty is in a conversation I had with my mom that I actually don’t at all remember the details of. It was years ago, and really the only thing I can recall is the most important part – the message she delivered me. It was that she felt I was becoming too judgmental.

I can’t remember why she said this or where it came from, but the core message really stuck with me. It might sound like a harsh message to hear, and I do believe it felt harsh to me at the time – but it was correct: I am a very judgmental person and that’s the absolute truth. It’s one of the traits I’m constantly trying to work on because being judgmental is not the way I want to be. And this awareness ultimately stemmed from my mom’s message to me. It was a hard message to hear, but the right one. The one that is helping me to become a better version of myself – a kinder, more loving person.

Again, I can’t imagine it’s a walk in the park to deliver this kind of message to your daughter and know you’re going to hurt her feelings. So why did my mom do it? She did it to help me become a better person. She saw what I could not – or was unwilling – to see. And now, because of this, I can see.

So what did honesty mean to my mom? I think it meant being truthful in situations where it was easier not to tell the truth. It meant delivering messages that were hard to give because she knew they would cause immediate hurt to the person receiving them, messages that could cause that person to lash out at her in annoyance or defensiveness – but messages she believed were in their long term best interest and beneficial for them. She delivered these messages out of love.

Of course, there’s a time and place for this kind of honesty. Those of you who know my mom know she delivered no shortage of encouragement and motivation and shared in excitement for our triumphs and victories – another type of honesty. But she also knew that sometimes we need to be challenged and questioned so we can grow.

In reflecting on this topic over the last few weeks, I’ve realized I’ve been struggling with honesty more recently. Over the past couple years, I’ve held back in telling people close to me when they’ve let me down, or when I disagree with a path they’re going down, because I haven’t wanted to deal with having a difficult discussion. It’s just felt easier to avoid the situation and pretend like everything is great!

But deep down, I don’t believe this is the right approach. Failing to have these difficult discussions is neither in my nor the other person’s best interest; on my end, it can lead to negative emotions such as disappointment or regret; for the other person, it can mean denying them of the opportunity to become aware of something that could have really benefited them.

I am really grateful for this discussion I had with Nikhil last month and the “aha” moment that came of it. I feel more connected to my mom for it and like I understand her approach to life, and how she chose to define her life, better. And the admiration continues to grow.