Could your marriage survive a year of total, brutal honesty?

The lies just trip off a bloke’s tongue: “Yes, you look gorgeous. No, your bum doesn’t look too big. Of course you haven’t put on weight.”

Whether he’s being polite to save her feelings or fibbing for an easy life, there’s one inescapable truth. Marriages and relationships survive on white lies.

As kids we are taught that honesty is the best policy but what happens if you tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth to your wife for a year?

Welshman Cathal Morrow, 43, did just that with 39-year-old Patti, his wife of five years and the mother of his two sons.

Academic Cathal, now living in Madrid, is writing a book about his experiences.

The home truths were not always easy to take and there were some tears and tantrums. But was the total honesty the making or the breaking of their marriage?

HIS STORY

When I started this challenge in February last year telling the truth to the missus was not easy. I reckon I told about six white lies a day and that was fine.

If Patti asked me whether her dress made her look fat it might have sounded like a question.

But, as every man knows, it was really a prompt for immediate reassurance along the lines of: “Of course not darling, you look fantastic.”

That’s how I’d always answer before my mission – taking the easy route, fibbing.

If I was sitting on the sofa and Patti asked me the question every man dreads: “What are you thinking about?” I’d come up with a flippant reply such as football, money or anything else to avoid the terrible truth.

Now I had to be honest. If I was daydreaming about an ex-girlfriend, or about sex, I had to tell my wife.

But when I did I was in for a shock. Instead of being angry or jealous she simply shrugged it off.

Staying with Patti’s parents, I had always kept quiet as I don’t see eye-to-eye with her mum, Maria, who was critical about our lives and how we were raising the kids Borja, four, and Elkin, two.

But we spent four months under the same roof when we first relocated from Wales to Spain and I decided keeping quiet was as much as a lie when I had so much to say. So, I told Maria what I thought.

Surprisingly, Patti actually seemed to approve and even Patti’s mum took it better than I had expected.

Patti, who is Spanish, will often cook traditional Spanish food, like tripe, which I secretly did not like. This year I’ve had to tell her straight.

Throughout our marriage, Patti has always asked my opinion about the clothes she buys and her weight. She goes through stages where she’ll eat loads and, to be honest, it shows.

Before, I went on auto-pilot and made reassuring noises about how lovely she looked. Now, when she asks me if I think her bum looks big, I’ll tell her it does.

It might sound cruel. But what I’ve learned over the past year is that how you tell the truth matters. So I’ll say “yes, your bum does look bigger, but I like it that way”. And I honestly do.

Another time white lies used to arise was when I was going out with the lads.

I’d fly to meetings in London and stay at a friend’s house while Patti stayed in Madrid looking after the boys. When she asked me on the phone what I’d done with my mates, I’d avoid telling her we went to the pub because she’s probably been bored stuck at home and no man wants to risk an ear-bashing.

But now I’ll tell her the truth, that we went for beers.

I’ve discovered that the fear of people’s reaction to the truth is often much worse than the reality of it.

There have been times where we’ve been out for a meal and a pretty woman has caught my eye. If Patti asked if I was looking at her, I’d feign surprise. Now I’ll admit, yes, I was looking at her and I found her attractive but Patti has nothing to worry about.

The year-long experiment’s almost over now and I’m so glad I did it.

I really feel it’s made our relationship stronger. Like a lot of men, I don’t like talking about feelings. But now I have to.

And because of it, I think Patti and I have become much stronger.

HER STORY

I thought Cathal was mad when he first told me he wanted to spend a year telling only the truth.

I didn’t think he could do it – not because he’s dishonest – but because the British are always so polite. And part of that is telling the odd white lie to not offend anyone.

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