It’s the rare moment that I laugh out loud while watching TV alone, but yesterday I couldn’t stop. I was watching one of my all-time favorite episodes of How I Met Your Mother, in which Lily performs in an off-off-off-Broadway play. When Barney tells her, honestly, that the play was wretched, Lily lectures him on how friends should support each other. Barney doesn’t see it that way and, in an effort to make his point, stages the world’s worst one-man show. He then characteristically forces the gang to sit through said show until they admit friends can’t always be supportive.
Lily’s argument: “I am going to sit through the whole thing and I am going to say something nice about it afterwards. You know why? Because that’s what friends do.”
Barney’s argument: “Friends don’t let friends come see their crappy play.”
Both arguments hold water. When I pour my heart into something, I want my friends to say something nice. Of course, I want them to be speaking honestly. But even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t need to know. Good ol’ fashioned support is a blessed thing.
But sometimes I participate in something—for whatever reason—that I’m not especially proud or enamored of. Maybe it’s a project I was asked to help out with, or something I had no choice but to work on. In those cases, I usually leave my friends out of it. I don’t want to bore them with my so-called crappy play.
Obviously in a world of Lily vs. Barney, Ms. Aldrin is almost always right. She’s Barney’s conscience, after all. But the episode made me wonder, in what circumstances is it better to be honest than supportive? When is “don’t quit your day job” the right response? (Maybe not those words, exactly, but that sentiment at least.)
When a friend decides she wants to pursue her life-long dream of acting or designing clothes or becoming the world’s oldest trapeze artist, at what point do you tell her it’s not going to work out?
Certainly before it comes to this: