I pefer an ugly truth to a pretty lie. If someone is telling me

The words of Shakira—“I prefer an ugly truth to a pretty lie. If someone is telling me the truth that is when I will give my heart”—are not merely the musings of an artist, but the cry of every soul that longs for authenticity in a world full of masks. The ancients taught that the face of truth is not always beautiful to behold. It may be rough, scarred, even painful, yet it is steadfast and enduring. Lies, though dressed in gold and perfume, are hollow, and their sweetness soon turns bitter. Shakira’s words remind us that the heart, which is the seat of trust, love, and devotion, cannot be given to shadows—it can only rest secure upon the rock of truth.

In every age, men and women have been tempted by the pretty lie—the flattery of courtiers, the illusions of power, the false promises of false friends. Such lies are like painted idols: dazzling to the eyes, but lifeless at their core. By contrast, the ugly truth is like unpolished stone. It may wound pride, it may sting the ears, but it holds within it the strength of reality. To embrace it is to stand firm, though the winds of deception blow against us. To reject it is to drift, tossed about by illusions that cannot endure.

History gives us countless witnesses to this wisdom. Consider the tale of Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-emperor of Rome. Surrounded by flatterers who whispered what he wished to hear, he turned instead to the stern voice of philosophy, which told him the harsh truth of life’s brevity, the inevitability of suffering, and the futility of vanity. Though these truths were not pretty, they anchored him, and through them he ruled with humility and strength. Had he chosen the “pretty lies” of praise and illusion, Rome might have fallen into ruin far sooner. His reign shows us that only when leaders face the ugly truths of existence can they serve with wisdom.

On the other hand, how many empires and relationships have been destroyed by clinging to pretty lies? The court of Louis XVI, in the years before the French Revolution, clung to illusions of endless wealth and blind loyalty of the people. The truth—that hunger and despair were spreading across France—was ignored. When the truth finally broke through the gilded walls of Versailles, it came not as a gentle whisper but as a storm. Thus, the lie that seemed comforting for a moment brought ruin, while the hard truth, had it been embraced earlier, might have saved a kingdom.

Shakira’s words also speak to the realm of the heart, where trust is the foundation of love. A lover may speak gentle lies to preserve comfort, but such sweetness corrodes over time, leaving only suspicion and bitterness. By contrast, the one who speaks truth—even when it is sharp, even when it wounds—offers something solid. In that truth, love can grow, for love that rests upon lies is fragile and doomed. To give one’s heart, as she says, is to entrust one’s soul to another, and only truth is worthy of such a gift.

The lesson is clear: we must train ourselves to value the ugly truth more than the pretty lie. When we are tempted to deceive in order to soothe, we must remember that false comfort destroys trust. When we are tempted to deny reality because it hurts, we must remember that only truth brings healing. Let us begin in small acts—by admitting our faults instead of hiding them, by speaking honestly though it may cost us favor, by listening with courage when others speak truth to us. These are the seeds of integrity, from which trust and love may blossom.

Therefore, O listener, carry this wisdom: the eyes may be dazzled by beauty, the ears may be pleased by sweet words, but the heart rests only in truth. Choose truth, even when it is ugly, for it is the only soil in which love, loyalty, and freedom can grow. Shun the lies that glitter, for they are but smoke and shadows. Give your heart only where truth dwells, and your life will be anchored, your love enduring, and your spirit free.