I am a human lie detector.
I am neither a trained behavior analyst, nor have I done extensive research in kinesics, rather even the tiniest fib will trigger an electrical wave in my brain that lights up my visual cortex like the 4th of July. As a result, I experience something akin to one of those glowing visual auras associated with a migraine, only in a short-lived, highly concentrated burst. (Think “glitter bomb” but without the mess.)
I have been this way for as long as I can remember, but I did not start to piece together the significance of the glitter bombs until I was about five-years-old. My big brother glowed more than any other person I knew. This kid was in a perpetual state of sparkle, and one day I decided I just had to know why. I channeled my inner Harriet the Spy, and observed his every move for two whole days before I made the connection. He lied constantly, to everyone, about the most mundane things (e.g., saying he had Frosted Flakes for breakfast when I knew he had Cinnamon Toast Crunch).
You might expect my five-year-old self to feel excited about this newly discovered superpower, and I did for about two minutes. Then all I felt was sadness when I remembered how my mother shimmered with light each time she told me she loved me.
Fast-forward 13 years and my strong preference to avoid socializing resulted in a perfect GPA and a full ride to college. By living off campus and attending a large university, I managed a modicum of anonymity that allowed for limited human interaction.
After 8 more years, I obtained an advanced degree in psychological and brain sciences, and I secured gainful employment in my Alma Mater’s research department. I now have access to the fMRI, which I can use for personal research interests (e.g., my abnormal brain) if I am discreet. That's how I know as much about my condition as I do.
One caveat about my flair for lie detecting I have yet to mention is the need to be physically near the liar in question for it to work. My current hypothesis is that I have an acute sensitivity to some pheromone secreted during the act of deception. When communicating via email, text, phone call, or even Skype, I am as vulnerable as the next person, which I consider a blessing. You have no idea how many lies an average person tells in a day, and all those little white lies make up the fabric of our social relationships. I would probably be a celibate shut in without the miracle of online dating. It has given me the opportunity to get to know someone well enough to share the details my condition before meeting in person. Most guys can keep from lying for the length of one date, especially if they hope to get laid at the end of it.
After exchanging some witty banter in a comment thread on Reddit, I hit it off with a guy, and when he was persistent with his advances, began the long process of revealing what it means to be in a relationship with me. I promised not to ask questions I did not want the honest answer to, and Bradley promised to be brutally honest with me when it counted or to stay silent in feeling-sparing situations- there could be no in-between.
We were together for almost a year when he told me he loved me for the first time while were folding laundry. My relief was palpable when the only spark in the room was metaphorical.
We have been living together for a year now, and I thought I knew him better than anyone. I mean, hello, human lie detector here. Imagine my surprise when, a few nights ago, a police officer knocked on our door to ask if either of us recognized the girl in a photo. Her body had been found nearby, brutally raped and beaten to death. I examined the photo intently, my heart aching for the poor girl. She looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, and I’d never seen her before. I told the officer as much and Bradley just shook his head.
“You didn’t even look at the picture, son. Please take a look, and tell me if you recognize her,” the officer demanded, shoving the picture in Bradley’s face.
That’s when Bradley said, “No sir. I’ve never seen her before in my life,” and I was nearly blinded by the glitter bomb that exploded in my field of vision.