We will only know the secrets we keep from ourselves when we’ve faced the know and come out the other side, then those hidden will be ready to face us in a personal battle!
When you have a late night conversation with a friend, and you talk, and talk, and talk, and then something profound rolls out of your mouth….And you go ‘Wow, do I really thing/believe/say that?! I didn’t know I had that inside.’
I kept a secret from myself… I’ve had this lovely Versace peacoat for several years and always get compliments when I wear it. One day I realized that I had told the lie that my ex-boyfriend had bought it for me so many times that I actually believed it. The truth is, I stole it from Neiman’s. Yesterday I gave the coat away.
Until I was 24, I couldn’t even admit to myself that I was gay. It was my biggest secret that I kept not only from others, but from myself. I was completely in denial. Once I faced my secret, all the rage, anger, and hate I had faded away. I wish I would have accepted it sooner in my life.
Thank you so much for sharing this. I too was 24 when I had to make that fateful decision to stop dating (amazing, loving, kind, beautiful) women and submit a resignation to my church in order to *finally* own the fact that this gay thing wasn’t going away. It was devastating to my family and to me. Now, 10 years later, I’m in medical school and in a loving, committed relationship with a wonderful man. I’m very blessed despite the belief that God was going to forget me… Or worse, disown me.
There have been many secrets I have kept from myself. They were all things I covered up and buried inside to keep a lie going I thought was helping me survive, but in fact they were the ones tearing me apart. The secrets we keep from ourselves are the biggest lies we tell ourselves.
I share a lot. The secrets I keep from myself are those that make me feel like I’m not who everyone thinks I am, in the worst way. Things that I look myself and get horrified. Things that I’ve separated myself from so they’re no longer mine….
The secrets we keep from ourselves are the ones that mess us up the most. If we admitted them, talked about them, and accepted them we woudn’t have such a hard time living.
I think I’ve been keeping from myself the fact that I actually, just maybe, might be an alcoholic 🙁
–I just refuse to think I don’t have control over it!–
I’m afraid the secret I keep from myself is that I really *am* difficult, not fun to be around, very few people understand me, and that’s why I have zero friends. (I’m 45 yrs old & incredibly successful. I just wish I had friends. And a family who gave a crap about me.)
I don’t know what secrets I am keeping from myself. They are still secrets. But I know they are there, waiting to reveal themselves when I least expect it.
I keep the secret of how much I want to live from myself. To this day, I’m still surprised I lived through my suicide attempt. It’s too emotionally painful for me to believe I want to live in spite of all the crap that happens and suicidal thoughts offer tremendous solace from the burden of real life. Yet when it comes down to it, I know I’ll never try again.
I think our secrets lie somewhere in the gray space between the person we are and the person we THINK (or hope) that we are. Am I am flawed person who finds ways to achieve success sometimes, or am I a good person who keeps fucking up?
The secrets we keep from ourselves can only be grasped after we release the ones we are holding.
We will only know the secrets we keep from ourselves when we’ve faced the know and come out the other side, then those hidden will be ready to face us in a personal battle!
What it is that will truly make ourselves happy
We already know all the secrets we keep from ourselves, but they hurt too much, so we keep them away, in a dark place, so we can’t reach them…
The ones we don’t want to admit, or accept that they are true, because they can be so terrifying and crushing to deal with.
When you have a late night conversation with a friend, and you talk, and talk, and talk, and then something profound rolls out of your mouth….And you go ‘Wow, do I really thing/believe/say that?! I didn’t know I had that inside.’
We keep to ourselves the secrets we’re not ready to confront yet.
I thought my husband wasn’t doing his fair share and now that he is gone, I finally see all the good things we had.
I hope it’s not too late.
I kept a secret from myself… I’ve had this lovely Versace peacoat for several years and always get compliments when I wear it. One day I realized that I had told the lie that my ex-boyfriend had bought it for me so many times that I actually believed it. The truth is, I stole it from Neiman’s. Yesterday I gave the coat away.
Now that my husband is gone I can finally see all the good in our relationship.
I hope that it isn’t too late.
Until I was 24, I couldn’t even admit to myself that I was gay. It was my biggest secret that I kept not only from others, but from myself. I was completely in denial. Once I faced my secret, all the rage, anger, and hate I had faded away. I wish I would have accepted it sooner in my life.
Thank you so much for sharing this. I too was 24 when I had to make that fateful decision to stop dating (amazing, loving, kind, beautiful) women and submit a resignation to my church in order to *finally* own the fact that this gay thing wasn’t going away. It was devastating to my family and to me. Now, 10 years later, I’m in medical school and in a loving, committed relationship with a wonderful man. I’m very blessed despite the belief that God was going to forget me… Or worse, disown me.
There have been many secrets I have kept from myself. They were all things I covered up and buried inside to keep a lie going I thought was helping me survive, but in fact they were the ones tearing me apart. The secrets we keep from ourselves are the biggest lies we tell ourselves.
The secrets I keep from myself are the ones that hurt the most. The things that if I let creep into my mind will make me feel like a failure.
I share a lot. The secrets I keep from myself are those that make me feel like I’m not who everyone thinks I am, in the worst way. Things that I look myself and get horrified. Things that I’ve separated myself from so they’re no longer mine….
I love my husband, but our sex life stinks. It always has.
The secrets we keep from ourselves are the ones that mess us up the most. If we admitted them, talked about them, and accepted them we woudn’t have such a hard time living.
I think I’ve been keeping from myself the fact that I actually, just maybe, might be an alcoholic 🙁
–I just refuse to think I don’t have control over it!–
The secrets I keep are highlighted by the ones I release. But I wish I didn’t keep those secrets.
Who we really love, and don’t.
I’m alone because I’ve chosen to be. All the complaining about single life won’t change the fact that it’s always been my choice.
How we really feel about ourselves. How we really feel about others. The conflict between what we (attempt to) show and the underlying truth.
That we can be better people
And sometimes we cannot release the secrets we are holding simply because they are restraining the secrets we need to keep from ourselves…
I’m afraid the secret I keep from myself is that I really *am* difficult, not fun to be around, very few people understand me, and that’s why I have zero friends. (I’m 45 yrs old & incredibly successful. I just wish I had friends. And a family who gave a crap about me.)
I think I’m making myself worse on purpose so that I don’t have to take the blame for how badly things get
I don’t know what secrets I am keeping from myself. They are still secrets. But I know they are there, waiting to reveal themselves when I least expect it.
I keep the secret of how much I want to live from myself. To this day, I’m still surprised I lived through my suicide attempt. It’s too emotionally painful for me to believe I want to live in spite of all the crap that happens and suicidal thoughts offer tremendous solace from the burden of real life. Yet when it comes down to it, I know I’ll never try again.
I think our secrets lie somewhere in the gray space between the person we are and the person we THINK (or hope) that we are. Am I am flawed person who finds ways to achieve success sometimes, or am I a good person who keeps fucking up?