I hate when people start a conversation with me by saying: “Don’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you” or some other variation of phrasing that indicates a few things:
- They’re likely betraying someone else’s trust by even telling me this “secret” because no one can keep their fucking mouth shut.
- This thing, whatever it is, likely isn’t as bad or as secretive as they’re making it out to be.
- If, in the rare case it is that bad or does need to be held secret, there must be a reason you’re being told.
There isn’t a version of this I enjoy. If it’s the 2nd scenario, I find it ridiculous that I have to keep something a secret that no one, myself included, gives a shit about. If it’s the 3rd scenario, I’m now riddled with anxiety or guilt or nerves about how A) I could be the one trusted to keep this secret and B) how on Earth I’ll be able to actually keep it from anyone.
The only viable outcome in any of these hopeless nightmares is that you forget you even were told the secret, its contents so fleeting and unimportant you don’t even need to participate in the act of holding it from anyone.
However, barring that magical outcome, there usually is a period of time where you can’t talk to those people about that thing.
BUT… once it’s over… it’s sweet release. Usually, this release isn’t even accompanied by a verbal expulsion of what you’d been holding in for so long. In fact, by the time it’s OK to share this “secret” most people probably already know. But you no longer have to watch what you say around them. You no longer have to worry about it being brought up and people finding out you have the world’s worst poker face.
You can live. Free.
Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Being too comfortable with someone that the “secret” concerns and letting it slip out.
scott spinelli 