Monday, December 5, 2011

Everybody's Got a "Thang." What's Yours???


A few years ago, I found a receipt in her grocery bag: Aspirin, shampoo, lotion, and SEVERAL bottles of wine. Was this receipt left in the bag by mistake, or purposely left there for me to find? We used to stand at my front door to talk, but there always seemed to be something behind her eyes: As if to say something to me. But then she'd leave me with a pregnant pause, and conjecture at my feet. I'm not surprised at all when I received a phone call from her on Saturday. With my suspicions confirmed, I (and she) can breathe a sigh of relief at her confession.

Holding onto secrets can be very intense. Friendships, marriages, and even political careers can be destroyed by them (Herman Cain?). Though all of them are not grievous, the ones that cause great distress can be the true life changers. And the thing about it is each and every one of us has had them in the past, is sheltering one now, or will have one (or more) in the future. I think this is why I was not judgmental when my friend admitted to being an alcoholic.

I guess it all comes down to trust, and finding someone who can lessen the burden of guilt. There's a reason why we hold onto secrets. Because of the fear of reprisal, we won't expose ourselves. The thought of losing someone close, social standing, and in some cases, freedom, can be unbearable. I had a life-changing secret in the past, and finding the right person to share it with was difficult. It took YEARS to finally confess, but it was the best thing I ever did!

For 2012 make a promise to yourself: If you have a secret which is burning you up inside, find someone you trust to share it with. At the very least, use this website to spit your rap: Confessing your "sin" annonymously may ease the pressure for a while, but always keep in mind that whatever you did that caused you to go undercover is still there. Deal with it, and for God's sake, don't do it again! It gets no better the second time around.

Let it go: And then move on.

rainwriter jones