I spent the first 33 years of my life with secrets, and lots of them. I spent a great deal of energy worrying over what people thought and obscuring the things I was ashamed of... trying to appear what I thought was normal.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Some secrets are meant to be taken to the grave, and that's what I plan on doing with all mine. They're not necessarily my secrets to tell. I'm the gatekeeper of other people's secrets.
Then I realized that secrecy is actually to the detriment of my own peace of mind and self, and that I could still sustain my belief in privacy and be authentic and transparent at the same time. It was a pretty revelatory moment, and there's been a liberating force that's come from it.
We all have secrets. We've all kept secrets. We've had secrets kept from us, and we know how that feels.
I'm not so great at keeping secrets; maybe that's why no one ever tells me things.
I think secrets often come out. I spoke to a friend who is a therapist and I asked her if there were people who came to her and admitted to doing horrible things and she said, 'More than you know.'
I have no secrets. I decided very early on in life that the strongest position was to be completely open.
I am curious about people. I want to know their secrets... because I am the last person to whom I would tell a secret; people tell me their secrets.
I'm really bad at keeping secrets.
I have never made any secret of any of my thoughts or areas of interest. I've always been honest, open, and upfront.
I don't have secrets in my life. Everything is out there.