tag | two truths + a lie

16 February 2018

This idea is originally a tag by Olivia over at Summer of 1999. I love Olivia and her blog and her writing, and when she first created this tag I knew I wanted to do it myself too (even if I wasn't exactly tagged...). It's a really cool idea, and I love the thought of sharing more about my life with you in a creative way.
I've written three excerpts of my life. As the name of the tag implies, two of the pieces are true and one is a lie. 
Our backyard was a strawberry field. Probably nothing more than a small patch of dirt to anyone else who could have seen it, but to my little five-year-old mind, it was a huge expanse of a sweet promise land. It seemed to stretch far beyond the threshold of my vision, filled with tiny morsels of sweet strawberries waiting to be dug up like treasured jewels beneath the tilled earth. Every year, after my birthday had passed, we knew it was the right time. The berries would finally be ripe and perfect enough to eat. On the warm, spring afternoons, my sisters and I would traipse out into the field with bare feet and round, smiling faces. We would pluck the strawberries from the ground, still coating in loose dirt from their beds in the ground. We would fill our mouths with however many we could, leaving a trail of discarded stems behind as we went. When I was seven we moved away, and the field was torn up and abandoned. But I still remember those afternoons and the taste of fresh strawberries.

I still felt sleepy as I opened my eyes that morning. The early sunrise streamed in through the flaps of the tent, filling the small space with a warm morning glow. My back ached from sleeping on the hard ground and my neck was stiff, but I couldn't help but feel content as I stared up at the green plastic top of our tent. My sisters still slept restlessly on either side of me, constantly rolling over to find a comfortable position on their bed of earth and rocks. I sat up and stretched my arms out as far as could, breathing in the fresh, dewy air. There was something refreshing about waking up in the middle of nature, even at early hour of 6 o'clock. My hair was all tangled together, my clothes were dirty, and I felt in desperate need of a shower, but I didn't care. I quickly slipped on my flip flops and stumbled outside across the campsite. My grandpa was already awake, getting the fire started for breakfast. Grandpa had been trying to get us to go camping with him for years. He seemed to be glowing with pride as he saw me and smiled. This was his domain, his element, where he felt most himself, and as I stood there in the calm of the early morning, the smell of smoke and the sound of birds in the air, I finally understood.

I had always dreamed about what it would be like to live in a high society world. Like in a Fitzgerald novel, or on Downton Abbey. But the night I went to my first ball, I realized that I was not cut out to be a princess. I arrived right on time for dinner, and as soon as I entered onto the wide, open floor of the ballroom, staring up at the high ceiling and sparkling chandeliers, I knew I had a long night ahead of me. I wore a light, dusty blue gown that spilled glitter behind as I walked, and plastic jewelry made to look like diamonds. I had spent three painstaking hours beforehand curling my hair and doing my makeup with a perfectionist's attention to detail. Everything had to be perfect, because tonight was supposed to be the best night of my life. I felt glamorous, and I hoped that the confidence I felt on the outside would help guide me through the night gracefully. During the three course meal, I managed to drop my cutlery on the floor, and eat the dessert at the wrong time. When the dancing began I made it through no more than five songs before abandoning my high-heeled shoes underneath a chair. My hair was stiff, and my dress became itchy and uncomfortable. After an hour I was more than ready to go back home. There is a reason why I was not born a rich young lady of high standing in the 18th century. I'm much too attached to sweatpants, ice cream, and lazy nights in bed to handle that.


I was surprised to find that no one was able to guess which the lie was. I definitely think the hardest part of this tag is writing the lie. It's hard to come up with something believable, but not too obvious. Thanks to all who attempted to guess!
If you want to do this tag too go ahead and send me a link to your post so I can guess and play along too.
(Also check out Olivia's blog because she's pretty cool!)


  1. Ahhh, I'm so so glad you did this tag!! My guess is 1 or 3 (you made it so hard, lol).


  2. You and your lovely fancy writer's way of doing this tag. Bless <3

    I have a feeling number one might be a lie. I have a feeling you're using the last one to catch us out? Or am I way too suspicious? xD I guess I'll find out when the post that reveals the lie comes out.

  3. These are all so beautifully written; I want to participate in this now! <3 And I think the first one is the lie. xx

  4. IT'S TOO HARD TO FIGURE OUT. SCREAMMMMM. all were beautifully written though ugh. x each of them feel like they have a bit of truth to them...but i'm going to guess 3 is the lie?

  5. I know this is an old post, but I love seeing what was in your head that prom night. I knew you and our other companion did not enjoy yourselves, but you did not really voice your opinion. It's funny looking back now.

    1. I did really enjoy the night, but I just didn't quite know what to think of it. Very overwhelming, that's for sure!