The Lie in ‘I Don’t Know’

Most people who say “I don’t know” actually do.

Not always with words.
But in the body. In the hesitation. In the sudden urge to check their phone or change the subject.

“I don’t know” is often not confusion. It’s resistance.
Because if you knew — really knew — what would that demand of you?

To know is to choose.
To know is to be responsible.
To know is to lose the excuse.

And sometimes, we’d rather sit in limbo than risk the cost of truth.
Because once you know, you can’t unknow. And once you’ve named it, you can’t unsee it.

So people perform uncertainty.
They pretend to be lost — when really, they’re just scared of what finding their way would change.

If you’re reading this and feel a flicker of something — that’s the knowing.
It’s not buried.
It’s waiting for your permission.