If Truth Were Colors
Sometimes I wonder how different our world would be if the truth could paint itself visibly above our heads—like a floating halo of colors. In a time when emotions are masked behind curated smiles and words are polished to hide intentions, the idea feels almost magical. What if nobody could hide how they truly felt? What if lies had colors, and truth had colors too?
I imagine walking down the street and seeing people illuminated in shades that reveal what their hearts refuse to say. A tired mother who insists she’s fine might glow with a soft shade of “hurt,” while a friend who claims to be happy might unknowingly wear the deep blue of sadness. A child promising they didn’t break the cup could be surrounded by a bright red streak of mischief, exposing every denied action.
At first, it sounds like a dream—a world free of guesswork, misunderstandings, and emotional puzzles. But the more I think about it, the more I realize such a world would be both beautiful and frightening. Beauty would come from sincerity. We would finally see one another clearly, beyond pretense and performance. No one could hide their pain, so maybe help would come quicker. No one could lie about intentions, so trust might grow stronger. Imagine politicians trying to make grand promises only for a loud, unmistakable “lie color” to flash above their heads. Elections would suddenly make a lot more sense.
However, the frightening part lies in how brutally honest such a world would be. Sometimes we hide our emotions not to deceive but to protect ourselves. There are days when I smile not because I'm fine but because I don’t want to burden someone else with my heaviness. There are truths we are not ready to share, wounds we’re still learning to understand. If truth automatically announced itself in color, privacy would disappear completely.
Would we be ready to live without masks?
For many, pretending is a coping mechanism. If every hidden emotion became visible, some people might feel stripped—exposed in ways they did not choose. And what about harmless lies, the type told to make someone feel better? If I complimented a friend’s cooking just to encourage them, would a “lie color” betray me and hurt their feelings?
Still, I believe such a world would ultimately lean toward good. It’s far easier to heal what we can see. With feelings no longer buried, connections would be deeper. Miscommunication would reduce. Relationships—romantic, family, or friendship—would rest on certainty, not assumptions.
Would I want to live in such a world?
Yes… but with hesitation. I would love the honesty, the clarity, the emotional transparency. Yet, I would also miss the gentle grace that comes from allowing people to reveal themselves at their own pace. Truth in colors would make life simpler, but not necessarily softer.
In the end, maybe the real lesson is this: even without colors floating above our heads, we should strive to live truthfully, speak sincerely, and pay closer attention to the colors people show in their eyes, their actions, and their silence.