Carolina Confidential

Ever heard the phrase “from the mouth of babes”?

It’s an old saying that means sometimes truth comes from the ones too young to know they’re supposed to soften it. Kids don’t filter honesty. They don’t shape it to protect egos or avoid discomfort. They just say what they see.

Adults?
We learn to hide the truth so well we eventually hide it from ourselves.

Kids don’t overthink truth. A child will look you in the eye and say, “Why are you crying if you said you’re fine?” And in that moment, you freeze—because there’s no polite script for honesty. Kids don’t know how to sugarcoat. They don’t know how to lie in order to protect someone’s ego. They don’t understand that adults build entire identities around pretending they’re okay. Kids just see the crack and point at it. Adults see the same crack and hang a picture over it so no one else notices.

Somewhere between childhood and whatever adulthood is, we learn that truth needs permission. We stop saying “I’m scared,” and replace it with “It’s fine—I’ll figure it out.” We stop saying “You hurt me,” and replace it with “It’s whatever.” We stop saying “I love you,” and replace it with “No worries.” 

A kid asks, “If you miss them, why don’t you call?” And an adult answers, “We just grew apart.” But the truth is usually far less poetic: I stopped being convenient. I stopped being chosen. I stopped being seen.

Kids don’t know how to abandon themselves just to stay accepted. Adults do.

Kids ask questions that cut straight through our excuses: 

“Why are you yelling if you’re not mad?”
“Why are you staying if you’re not happy?” 
“If you love them, why don’t you tell them?” 

Kids don’t need context to know what’s real—they feel it first. Adults explain everything so we don’t have to feel anything.

Kids speak truth. Adults manage perception. Kids are honest. Adults are strategic. Kids love with their whole chest. Adults love with conditions, disclaimers, and exit strategies.

Maybe wisdom does come from the mouth of babes.
Or maybe that’s just where truth lived before we learned to bury it in the name of being polite.

Somewhere along the way, we stopped asking the questions that kept us honest. We started hiding the cracks behind the masks we wear… and calling it maturity.

Questions We Should’ve Never Stopped Asking Ourselves

• Does this make me happy?
• Am I staying because I want to or because I’m afraid to leave?
• Do I like this version of me?
• If this wasn’t familiar, would I still choose it?
• What would I do if I wasn’t scared of disappointing someone?

Kids ask to understand. Adults ask to control the outcome.

Maybe the goal was never to grow up.
Maybe the goal was to grow back—
into the part of us that still tells the truth, even if we have to walk away while the bridge burns.

But that’s just my opinion.

Until next time,
Stay safe. Make good choices. And as always, stay kinky My friends.

~ Dray Orion