Reality, to be mastered, has to be obeyed.
— Stefan Molyneux
Have you ever noticed how some truths feel like they're punching you right in the gut?
Here's something fascinating from neuroscience: when we face information that challenges our core beliefs, our brain lights up the same neural pathways as physical pain. But here's the kicker: it's not the truth causing this reaction—it's our brain wrestling with cognitive dissonance. When something "hurts" as we learn it, we're not feeling the truth itself—we're feeling our own resistance to it. It's the gap between what we wish was real and what actually is.
Truth doesn't hurt, our resistance to it does
Think about those moments that shake us: discovering a partner's betrayal, getting rejected from your dream job, or realizing you've been wrong about something fundamental.
That ache? It's not coming from the truth—it's coming from the collision between your expectations and reality. And what are expectations, really, but stories we tell ourselves about the future—possible outcomes we either chase or run from?
Buddhist teachers have been dropping this knowledge bomb for thousands of years. The Buddha nailed it when he said suffering comes not from reality itself, but from our death grip on how we want things to be.
This isn't just some ancient philosophy—it's something you can test in your own life. While that first hit of an uncomfortable truth might sting, it always leads to clarity and freedom in the end.
The trap of "acceptance"
First, let's get this straight: this isn't another rehash of those tired Stoic mantras about:
"accepting the truth without judging it";
just saying "it is what it is" and moving on;
"facing the truth head-on and embracing it without judgment".
To hell with that nonsense.
That kind of passive acceptance just breeds resignation and numbness instead of real understanding.
No, dealing with truth requires something more sophisticated: we need to acknowledge reality while still responding to it with intelligence and intention.
Think of it like learning to swim. Simply "accepting" that you're in deep water won't help—you need to work with the water, understanding its properties and how your body interacts with it. Similarly, engaging with truth means developing a relationship with reality that's both honest and dynamic.
The goal isn't to become numb to truth, but to develop a healthy relationship with it. We must stay sensitive to truth while building our capacity to respond skillfully to what we discover.
So where does this idea that truth can be painful come from?
Objective vs. Subjective Reality
As with many philosophical questions, it comes down to this fundamental distinction.
The pain of truth emerges from the conflict between what we think, hope, or want to be true, and what actually is. It's like two photographs that don't quite align—one showing the world as we wish it to be, and another showing the world as it is.
This misalignment between objective reality and our subjective perception creates cognitive dissonance. When we try to hold both versions of reality as equally valid, we create our own suffering.
The objective truth was neutral all along—our discomfort came from clinging to subjective perceptions that contradicted it.
This principle guides (or should guide) scientists and philosophers in their work. True practitioners shouldn't shy away from uncomfortable findings or cling to cherished theories, but follow the evidence wherever it leads. After all, understanding reality should be science's ultimate goal. (See my articles on "scientism" for more on this subject).
Is subjectivity bad, then?
Not at all. The universe would be emptier without a subject to experience it. The problem isn't subjectivity itself, but rather mistaking our subjective perceptions for objective reality. When we accept objective reality instead of clinging to subjective fantasies, we discover the inherent freedom in truth.
Pain as a signal
Think of pain as a warning light on your car's dashboard. It's telling you: "Watch out! Danger! You're confusing your subjective experiences and preferences for objective reality!"
In this sense, pain acts as the lesser of two evils: preservation of the whole by sacrificing the part. Like a lizard detaching its tail to escape a predator, our subjective self survives by letting go of the parts of our subjective experience that clash with objective reality.
When we stop labeling truths as "painful", we recognize them for what they are: simple facts about reality. Our experience stems not from these facts themselves, but from our relationship with them—whether we resist or embrace them.
Truth is not something you "face"
The phrase "facing the truth" implies truth is somehow threatening—like a predator or attacker. This framing misses the mark entirely.
Consider a toothache and its treatment. The dentist who treats the root cause isn't creating your pain—it stems from neglected dental hygiene, poor dietary choices, or unfortunate accidents. Yet many avoid the uncomfortable treatment, preferring temporary relief through painkillers or denial.
This mirrors how we often handle difficult truths: we numb ourselves with comforting illusions rather than acknowledge reality.
The dentist—like truth—may seem to cause the discomfort but actually represents the path to healing. After all, we wouldn't need treatment had we not made poor choices or experienced random accidents, neither of which are the dentist's fault.
Truth therapy
Just as dental treatment might involve temporary discomfort while addressing the root cause, acknowledging truth might initially feel unsettling but ultimately resolves our deeper suffering.
This metaphor extends further: just as postponing dental treatment typically leads to worse problems, avoiding truth rarely improves our situation. The longer we cling to our subjective illusions, the more our suffering deepens.
The truth, therefore, isn't just neutral—it's actively therapeutic, serving as both a diagnostic tool and a cure for our psychological distress.
What to do instead?
Welcome to the most important part. All the above is well and good, but we're doing practical, applied philosophy here. Enough with the theory, what's the practice?
I'll keep it short and sweet. The next time you encounter a truth that makes you flinch and want to turn away, choose to do this instead:
Pause. Notice your resistance.
Notice the emotional charge. What emotions are you feeling? Observe the sensations in your body. What physical responses do you notice?
Ask yourself: "What story am I telling myself?" Examine that story carefully. Does evidence support it? Or is it a comforting fiction?
Consider what you gain from holding onto your preferred version of reality. What needs does this story fulfill? What fears does it shield you from?
Create an alternative narrative based on objective facts.
Remember: accepting reality doesn't require you to embrace it. You can acknowledge what is while still working to change what's possible.
Choose which story to keep: the real or the imaginary.
Build your capacity to sit with the discomfort of seeing things as they truly are. Like any skill, this grows stronger with practice.
Own your choice.
Even if you choose the fantasy, you've taken an important step forward. Just like deciding to take painkillers for a toothache, if I choose to numb the pain, let it be a conscious choice rather than an unconscious, habitual response.
Ignore at your peril
Those who insist on calling truths "painful" remain stuck in cycles of suffering, constantly fleeing from shadows of their own making.
Avoiding the dentist won't improve your health.
When you choose to examine your discomfort and face the gap between objective and subjective reality, you'll find genuine freedom—a gift far more valuable than any temporary comfort from illusions.