Lying Love and False Forgiveness: The Greatest Truth Never Told
The Collapse of Counterfeit Love in a World That Can No Longer Lie
It’s that time of year when families prepare to gather - first for Thanksgiving, then for Christmas. A time for returning home, reconnecting with loved ones, and pretending that everything is fine.
Distance lets dissonance fade to a hum, until you’re sitting across from your racist uncle, your bigoted aunt, your nonbinary cousin you don’t understand, your sister who weaponizes compliments, or your brother who still acts like a bully. Suddenly, every unhealed wound is back in the room, carving the turkey with you. Increasingly, this season has become one where divisions can no longer be dodged, and where not everyone at the table fits neatly into the category of “loved one.”
In civilised society, we’ve long been taught that love means politeness, and that in the spirit of forgiveness we should swallow what’s real so the meal can stay peaceful. Adjust in order to maintain harmony, accomodate to be agreeable, suck it up, suppress, smile, and call it love.
But, right now, that spell is breaking.
We are living in a time when the frequency of truth is rising, and that means everything from the Epstein files or UFO disclosures to the emotional archaeology of everything we’ve hidden personally to keep the peace and stay acceptable, lovable, employable, or easy to be around.
Right now, Pluto in Aquarius is pressure-testing everything for integrity, and if it can’t hold real love and truth, it will collapse. Neptune is headed into Aries, burning off the fog of illusion and demanding authenticity over fantasy, where Saturn will join it, teaching that responsibility now starts with self. Uranus is charging through Gemini, shattering echo chambers and forcing truth to travel faster than lies. And Jupiter, ever the amplifier, is lighting up the emotional circuitry of Cancer, making every suppressed feeling too loud to ignore.
Together, they’re rewriting the laws of love, power, and perception, dissolving false peace, exposing false prophets, and dragging every form of counterfeit connection into the light. At the same time, the Sun is flaring - multiple eruptions of plasma and light hurling toward Earth - and all that extra light is illuminating not just our world, but our hearts. The dark corners where we once hid our feelings are no longer safe shadowlands. The universe itself is holding an intervention. The light is flooding in, making the truth now undeniable.
We used to be able to bury truth under etiquette, but the light is getting too bright for hiding. The trick of suppression - that old survival magic that once let us call dysfunction “love” - is fading fast.
In the Age of Illusion, we were confused into thinking “love” meant niceness, and “forgiveness” meant amnesia, and “family” meant keeping the peace at all costs. But as revelation burns through the haze, one truth stands luminous: the Age of Truth is rising, and with it, a new dawn on what love truly means.
What’s rising now isn’t just the holiday tension - it’s truth, and it’s coming for everything false we’ve ever called love.
The False Gospel of Niceness
Most of us were taught the importance of “getting along.” That, especially during the holidays, being kind is more important than being true, and that keeping the peace matters above all else, even if it’s a peace ultimately built on lies. After all, is a little lie so bad if it maintains the illusion of love?
This is the thinking that ruled the Age of Illusion, the soup we were all simmered in. Love didn’t have to be true - it just had to look like it. It was performance, not presence; presentation, not truth. We learned to trade honesty for harmony, and called the bargain “love.”
We didn’t just do it at the family dinner table. We did it at work - telling a customer they looked great in something that clearly didn’t fit, just to make the sale, or telling sucking up to the boss just to get a promotion. We did it in friendships - nodding through behaviour that bothered us, then venting to someone else later. We did it in relationships - saying “it’s fine” when it wasn’t, because confrontation felt too costly. We did it online - liking posts we didn’t believe in to give the impression of solidarity, commenting hearts on people we privately resented. We did it in church, in politics, in the workplace - applauding what we didn’t respect, laughing at what we didn’t find funny, agreeing with what we didn’t believe.
We built our world on emotional theatre - on smiles that hid truth and “love” that hid fear. And now, as the light rises, that theatre is closing down. The audience has left. The show is over.
Love, at its core, is the same thing as truth. You cannot have one without the other.
Real love doesn’t lie to keep the peace, because love and truth are the same frequency. Truth is love on fire, burning through all that’s false. If we’ve forged our friendships in falseness or held our relationships together through lies, we’ve been building in the frequency of illusion - and that frequency is now collapsing. Nothing built there will last. In the Age of Truth, that kind of “love” will burn.
Too often, we entertain what’s false because it keeps things comfortable. We suppress frustration rather than face it - afraid of friction, allergic to truth.
But to be uncomfortable with truth is to be uncomfortable with love, for they are one and the same. Love without truth isn’t love at all - it’s just a lie dressed in warmth, keeping real love locked outside.
The Real Meaning of Forgiveness
Many of us feign love to mask pain or friction - nowhere is this more obvious than at family gatherings, where disparate people are forced together in the name of love. Past wrongs and conflicting views get papered over for peace, because we’ve built our relationships on politeness rather than truth, and as a result, they’re not fireproof. The whole thing’s likely to go up in smoke the moment it’s held to the flame of honesty.
A well-meaning relative likely told us to apply forgiveness - the great social lubricant, the sacred solvent that’s kept families and friendships functioning. For centuries, it’s been a mother’s favourite tool for getting fractious families to gather around the table: the fix-all for anyone who wrongs us, annoys us, hurts us, betrays us, or abuses us. Forgive them, we’re told, so we can all sit harmoniously around the Christmas tree.
For most of us, “forgiveness” means finding a way to get past the wrongdoing. To put it behind us, as if it didn’t happen. To see the good in the person who hurt us and let that outshine the pain, so we can move on without bitterness.
But far too often, forgiveness is just a code word for shoving our feelings down to keep the relationship intact. How many holiday dinners have been fuelled by that kind of forgiveness, with everyone at the table carrying unspoken grievances down in their boots just to get through the meal?
Forgiveness, in that sense, becomes a tool of avoidance. We don’t have to face the truth if we can just “forgive” it.
But that kind of forgiveness isn’t born of truth - it’s born of fear. It’s the quiet admission that if the truth were spoken aloud, it would start a fire that might burn the house down. It’s the confession that there is no real love here - only false love, fragile and flammable when exposed to light - and forgiveness is the fire blanket we throw over the truth to keep pretending it’s peace.
If that’s what you were taught forgiveness meant, it’s time to unlearn it.
The old word for “forgive” - forgiefan - meant “to give away.” Not to excuse or erase, but to release. We confused forgiveness with leniency, but real forgiveness is liberation. It’s freeing yourself - and others - from the need to hold things together. It’s the courage to let them fall apart if that’s what’s true.
Forgiveness says: I release you to be as you are. I release me to be as I am. I release the need for things to be different.
In that way, forgiveness becomes a radical acceptance of what is. It’s not about changing, controlling, or fixing - it’s about allowing. It’s the sacred art of letting go, and letting it be.
The Truth About Holding On
We struggle with love and forgiveness when we haven’t accepted the truth - when some part of us still wants the story to turn out differently. We want the people we care about to be different than they are. So we hold on. We replay, we bargain, we soften the edges of reality, and in doing so, we make life more comfortable, but we also start living inside a lie.
Look at me: I have hundreds of friends, as long as I never say how I really feel.
Aren’t I lucky, with my loving family, as long as we never talk about anything real.
I’m such a nice person, everyone loves me, as long as they never read my diary.
Everything we love must be forgiven - that is to say, all that we love must be released. To struggle with forgiveness, is to wrestle with uncomfortable truth. We don’t want to release, because to release is to face what’s real - that they are they way they are, and cannot change. Or that we are how we are, and maybe that’s not going to change either. Or what’s done is done, and cannot be undone.
Release is not rejection - it’s alignment with reality. It’s saying: I accept what is, and I no longer bend my spirit around it.
Real love requires truth, not comfort. It doesn’t try to convince us things aren’t as they are - it demands that we face them, step into truth, and offer what is to the fire. If it’s false, it will turn to ash, but if it’s true, it will not burn.
Too often, we hold tight when love says let go.
Too often, we know our bonds can’t bear the flame, so we cling instead of release.
We fear the loss. We fear the alone. We fear the burn.
But to love is to be true, and to be true is to forgive - to accept and release.
What’s false will burn.
What’s real will return.
This is the way in the Age of Truth.
Dancing With Radiant Truth
Love was never meant to mean “be nice.” It always meant “be true.”
It means standing in what’s real, even when that truth strains, or ends, a relationship.
To love someone truly is to refuse to collude with illusion.
To forgive them truly is to release the illusion that things might ever be different.
False love keeps the lie alive.
True love burns the lie down and lets something honest grow from the ashes.
In this age we’re entering, we must learn to dance with radiant truth - not just the comfortable truths that make us feel holy, but the inconvenient ones that burn away our illusions and yes, perhaps make family gatherings uncomfortable. The kind of truth that doesn’t flatter the ego or protect our preferences, but stands unbending, saying:
It is what it is.
It cannot be any other way, or it would be.
And as it isn’t, then it isn’t.
I honor the truth, with love and forgiveness.
The fire of love’s truth is not to be feared, but embraced.
We are being invited to offer everything false to that fire - to trust that what burns was never real, and what remains is what was meant for us all along.
If something is true, it will stand in the flame.
If it isn’t, it will fall to ash.
That’s not loss.
That’s purification.
This is the transition from the Age of Illusion to the Age of Truth - from pretending to be loving, to actually being true - and in that shift, we discover the truth was never the enemy of love. It was love all along - the kind that burns, not to destroy, but to make everything honest shine.
A Mantra for the Age of Truth
I no longer confuse peace with silence,
or forgiveness with forgetting.
I no longer hold hands with lies and call it love.
To forgive is to release.
To release is to return to truth.
And to live in truth - even when it costs me everyone who can’t face it -
is the only way to love at all.
Real love can hold the truth,
and if it can’t, it’s not worth holding.
Truth is expensive - priceless, in fact -
but in the end, it’s the only thing worth paying for.
My intention in my writing is to lessen the climate of fear around world events by offering clarity and cosmic context for what’s unfolding; to bring context to the chaos. I believe our highest calling right now is to anchor in the vibration of love & truth and call in a more beautiful world, and to do that, we must lean out of fear. I hope you read this with an open, uplifted heart.
My parents passed away in the last handful of years. Our family gatherings were always a delicate tightrope act of balancing. My mother would hold court while my sister and I competed for her favor. My father would lean back and avoid all confrontation. My sister’s husband would issue barbed humor. My brother would quietly watch. My husband would do his best to engage others unaware that he was never admitted into the “inner circle.” Today, we no longer gather. My feelings are simultaneously sadness and relief. My truth telling through the years got me ostracized. Thus I would oscillate between speaking my truth, playing my part, and avoiding them altogether. In the end, I was a dutiful daughter and cared for my parents. Today, I care for my developmentally delayed brother while my sister pretends I don’t exist. Family can certainly be a mixed bag... It will be interesting to see what lies ahead as the planets find their new alignment. For me, acceptance of what is is essential to my overall wellbeing. I did my best. Now that chapter is closed.
Thank you.