I was just told my picture should be used as definition for TMI in the dictionary.
For me there is simply no such thing. Information is meant to be shared, unless you were specifically told it’s confidential. Information about yourself even more so, since nobody told it to you, so nobody could tell you that it’s confidential.
I said before and I’ll say again, only allowance I make for lying (hiding or bending the truth is lying too) is to those in positions of authority (police, boss, teacher, parent, etc.), when it comes to potentially incriminating details about yourself or others you want to protect, when you fully believe that what you or the one you protect did was the right thing, but the authorities would not agree. But even then, if possible, it would be better to confess and then fight to change the rules, making the authorities accept said action as being acceptable in the circumstances it was performed under.
Then, I have my own privacy policy. If I am specifically told not to tell a certain thing, I won’t, unless by telling it I’d prevent unjustified harm from being done to another. But you have to be specific about which part not to tell, “don’t tell any of this to anybody” will probably make me more likely to tell it than if you wouldn’t have said anything.
Past that, I won’t tell things about person A to person B if person B currently knows, or is likely to soon know, person A, unless I’m fairly sure that person B already knows that piece of information and I wish to discuss it further, or unless knowing that piece of information will certainly aid person B in a justified endeavor. However, I see nothing wrong with telling person B anything I wasn’t specifically told not to tell if person B does not currently know, nor is likely to soon know, person A. Discussing things like this is a way to get other opinions when advice is needed.
Not sure how clearly that came out, but it’s the best way I can explain it…
As for myself, whatever I did, I did. I can’t change that and I’m not ashamed of it. Ok, maybe I am of some things, but keeping them hidden doesn’t make the shame go away. Not telling something doesn’t make it less real, doesn’t lessen the regret or guilt you may feel about it.
Secrets eat you up inside. And most of them don’t need to be secrets, or only appear to need to stay secret because we want them to. Because society attacks those who have the courage to admit their mistakes, their weaknesses. Because telling the truth has become an act of bravery in a world built on lies.
There are, of course, ways to relieve some of that burden anonymously, but saying potentially sensitive things about yourself in public can be very liberating. After all, if you just say what you want to say but not let people know who said it, you’ll still be eaten up inside by the worry of somebody managing to track your secret back to you.
The first step towards fixing a mistake or a flaw is admitting to it. And, who knows, you might find that the one you’ve been hiding it from doesn’t consider it a flaw at all, or that they are in the same situation but have been just as afraid to admit it to you.
And now that we’re here, what potentially “sensitive” information could I post about myself in order to “walk my talk”?
– Let me start with something that I already said. I sleep with a teddy bear that she gave me as sort of a gag gift when I turned 18. It’s the only thing connected to her that I can sleep with, so I do. I hug it before going to sleep, kiss it when I wake up, and, yes, I make sure it’s well tucked in, just like I did with her. Crazy? Perhaps, but certainly far less crazy than I wish I’d be.
– Seeing or hearing the name Andra, or saying or writing it myself, makes me get all shaky and my heart feels like it tries to get out through my throat. Yes, that’s her name. Actually that’s what happens when it’s just the same name, but not actually about her. When it actually is something about her, I’m in complete shock. And yes, I just froze head to toe right now because I wrote it. Yet, somehow I can write it to Liz without getting these effects.
– Once, in the two months during which I went to kindergarten when I was little, I stole a building block off the table and brought it home. I was angry that the two kids at the same table with me were hoarding all of them when we were allowed to play, so I meant to do one better. If they were taking them all during playtime, I was going to take one for good. I even proudly showed it to my parents when I got home. Naturally, I got told that it’s bad to steal, but, since no other punishment was dealt, I had no reason to rebel and didn’t do it again. I think that piece is actually still somewhere around the house even now.
– I may be very much against smoking, but I did take a cigarette butt from the ashtray one evening when I was in my early teens, lit it and tried smoking it. Had to know for myself how it is, right? That was all it took to be absolutely convinced I’ll never do that again.
– In 6th and 7th grade, I was staying up nights to write up a plan for a revolution that would use schools as bases of operations. Wasn’t much of a plan, but it did fill several pages. Even got a classmate interested in it, though I didn’t end up showing it to him in the end. Actually, I was splitting the lost nights between those plans, reading books about sex and having fantasies with several of my female classmates. And speaking of those fantasies, back then I was mostly masturbating to orgasm once per week, when a sports newspaper dad bought had it’s TV schedule supplement. It had a picture of a naked woman on page 3, and I’d take it into my room for the first night after I’d see it, saying I want to look through it. There was actually a short period of time, between starting to do this and starting my solitary sexual education, when I thought I was the only one who had discovered that pleasurable way to “play”.
– Oh, I actually started masturbating when I was 5. Certainly thought I was the only one knowing how to do that back then, and can’t say I learned it from anywhere, just came natural. Even managed to do it under the blanket with grandparents all around me, until dad walked in on me once when I was 7 and told them what I was up to that is. That turned out ugly. Lost interest in it a few months later though and didn’t start again until I was 12.
– And, still on that topic, I haven’t masturbated to orgasm in 14 months. Was hard to do it since she left anyway, but did manage every now and then while I still had some hope. Then, when all that was gone, I just couldn’t anymore. However, body doesn’t seem to understand that and I wake up sticky every now and then. Darn annoying! I do “play” quite often, even more so as of about two weeks ago, since, for some unknown reason, I’ve started being painfully (literally) horny most of the time, but never finish it. Not sure if it’s more because I feel I might be “scoring points” towards getting her back to me someday this way, or as punishment for making the mistakes that made her want to leave in the first place, but that’s how it is and it’s my choice.
– I don’t see this as a potential “dirty secret”, but I know some would, so here it is. I was raised by very strictly Christian grandparents, but started getting very interested in studying religions when I was 13 and, after reading a few things about several, kept finding myself returning to Wicca. Things built up in the next few years and I started experimenting with things, but then got scared when they actually worked and gave up. Yet my belief system continued building itself. You may call the result as having a Neopagan (and especially Wiccan) foundation, with a noticeable amount of Buddhist concepts thrown in, but that wouldn’t describe it well at all. What I believe in are bits and pieces gathered from several religions (though some certainly take precedence over others) that seemed to fit in, mixed with various theories about the paranormal, scientific facts and my own theories as well. Easter has been throughout these years the only Christian event with any significance to me, but now even that is left with very little, if any. I had decided at the end of 2004 to start turning again towards what felt right for me, then started researching even more after she left, took some time off to be sure of my decisions and now I can finally say I’m firmly on my path as far as religious beliefs are concerned.
– I had a huge crush on Lucy Lawless, and another, though not as bad, on Alyssa Milano in my early teens, when Xena: Warrior Princess and Who’s the Boss? started being broadcasted on TV here. As far as I can remember, those were the only crushes I’ve ever had.
– You know what makes me say I really trust somebody? (I only get close to girls/women, so, naturally, it only applies to them.) If I’m sure that, barring all else, just between me and my conscience, if certain conditions are met, I’d have sex with her. For many men, that would probably include about half of the planet’s female population aged between 15 and 45, but my “list” has only ever had four names on it, and I prefer to say three and a half because I was never too sure about the fourth. Being on that “list” doesn’t mean I want to have a relationship with you, nor does it mean I would have sex with you under the current circumstances if given the chance. It means way more than that. For me, wanting to do that with somebody is the highest level of trust possible. It means becoming “blood brothers”, as Native Americans used to say. It means absolutely no secrets, no holding back. It means always being there, always doing my best to help. It means I’d put my life and everything I have on the line for you without hestiation. No, I certainly don’t need to do it with somebody for all of these to apply, I just need to know that there is at least one circumstance in which I’m 100% sure I’ll do it, even if we’re talking about a very specific situation. But, yes, it hurts tremendously when this is not returned.
– Ok, big one coming, are you ready for it? I’ve only told it to two people so far. Here goes… I sucked my own dick in my mid-teens. Well, just the top third of it or so, but anyway. No, I can’t do it anymore. Yes, I tried. Of course I told Andra (don’t worry, my hands and feet are still frozen from the last time I wrote it) about it from the start, can’t start a relationship with any secrets, and she kept nagging me to show her. I never did, but, when she suddenly mentioned being interested in seeing that again some two years later, I waited for a moment alone and tried to see if I could manage again. Guess my spine lost flexibility.
– Maybe many would think that’s the worst of it, but there’s one other thing that I have been even more edgy about telling people. Many know it, but also only two have heard about it directly from me so far. I rock myself to sleep. And again when I wake up. Well, I didn’t when I was living with Andra (yeah, still frozen), only need to do that when I sleep alone. Or at least I didn’t do it on purpose during that time, but for the first couple of months she told me I’d start as soon as I’d fall asleep. After she left, I started again. Doing it less lately because for some reason it started producing headaches instead of that pleasantly dizzy feeling that had so far helped my thoughts settle with little interference from the outside world, which means that both falling asleep and waking up are now even more of a problem than they usually are. Guess you can safely call this an addiction.
We all have “dirt” within us, that’s just a part of mine. Maybe I’m weak for needing to let things out like this, maybe I’m brave for daring to, I don’t even care. I just wish more people would be so open.
And don’t say TMI. If you don’t want to know it, just let it go in one ear (or eye?) and out the other. You do that with the vast majority of the information you receive anyway, brain constantly filtering out what doesn’t seem to be needed.
