Acharya Prashant explains that the hesitation to speak truthfully to family members is not really because of attachment, but principally because of the threat of loss. One does not want to hurt or offend because they know they have given the other person the capacity to hurt or offend them back, and that is what makes one afraid. The fundamental principle is that we are ultimately afraid of only one thing: the fear related to self-preservation. Your self-interests are linked to the normalcy of your relationships with family members. At the back of your mind, you realize that if you strain the relations, they will "bite you back" in some way, whether it is visible, hidden, subtle, or subconscious. The speaker clarifies that you are afraid of suffering at the hands of those you profess to love. It is a principle that cannot be violated: if relating to another makes you afraid, it is because the other has the capacity to hurt your interests. This is a bad situation to be in, and the root cause is dependency, which could be psychological, financial, or social. This dependency is what causes your fear. It is not love that makes you conceal the truth; neither is it the common variety of love called attachment. The fear is due to the simple threat that something will be badly hit if you speak the truth. It is not surprising that this is happening, as this is how most parent-child relationships and families are constructedânot on the foundation of love and truth, but merely as institutions that exist for society's sake. It is rare for people to come together for the sake of truth, and few really know what it means to love. Love is like eyesight; either everything is in its purview, or nothing is. You cannot be selectively blind. The fact that you are finding this situation odd is auspicious. The advice is to let the thorn prick you fully, go deep, and figure out the real nature of your dependencies and relationships. This inquiry may reveal ugliness and stink, but to get rid of the muck, one must first dive into the stink.
