Secrets

se·cret

adjective
not known or seen or not meant to be known or seen by others.

I read a book not that long ago by, you guessed it, Colleen Hoover, called Confess.  It was about an artist that ran a studio called Confess.  Random strangers would write anonymous confessions and drop them into his mailbox and then he would make art pieces based on their confessions and secrets.  


Everyone has a secret or a confession, even if it is small and unimportant.  Secrets are what make the world go round. Secrets are the reason that Hollywood has such a cult following.  Secrets can make countries go to war and make families break up.  In my life alone I have had enough secrets that could put a soap opera to shame.

Sometimes secrets are hurtful to others and sometimes they are hurtful to you.  Sometimes secrets are good and sometimes they are bad.  Sometimes secrets are so big that you can’t tell anyone.

I have a secret that I have carried around for years.  Some people know my secret and some people don’t.  I have been judged and shamed when I said it out loud and I have even been called a liar.  People have felt sorry for me and treated me different when they found out.  The funny thing is, the only reason I even told people was because I thought they could handle it.  Instead all it did was create more stress and drama in my life.  

I didn’t want their sympathy.  I didn’t want them to judge me or treat me different.  I just wanted them to know and be there for me if I needed them.  I didn’t/don’t need them to understand.  It is hard to understand unless you have the same secret.


In the book that I read, the people wanted to get their secrets out there.  They didn’t want their secrets to eat away at them.  They wanted to be able to tell their stories without be judged and shamed for it.  Being able to confess your secrets in an anonymous way makes you less vulnerable.  When thinking about it, if I was in the book, I would totally write my secret down and put it into the box.

So, if everyone has a secret, what’s yours?

Love,

Bri

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