Yesterday I shared more about me than I can recall ever sharing with anyone else before.
It’s both exhilarating and frightening.
Like anyone, I wish to be loved for the person I am – and how I got to be. This means responding with candor to your questions about my past.
Thinking about it now, there’s a difference between just talking about myself, and answering questions you ask of me. I can’t recall the exact circumstances, but I’ve had experiences where sharing more detail about my past has had the unintended consequence of causing people to like me less instead of more. Fear of a re-occurrence has made me protective and cautious.
I once took a woman to a nice resort for a couple days of skiing. Somehow at the bar I said something that triggered a response. I can’t for the life of me remember what it was I said. But the result was a very uncomfortable last night at the resort, and a silent and awkward drive taking her home the next morning.
It appears in that case, I dropped a veil and exploded a bomb.
You’ve made it very clear that you love me. All of me. And that you understand and love me for who I am. The prospect of a future life with you is sublime. Which makes it frightening if something avoidable should snatch it all away.
Of course the bedrock of any committed relationship is honesty. The fly in the ointment is knowing where the line is between silence and honesty. Is it dishonest to just let one’s past just stay securely locked away in the past?
I want to answer each and every question you ask me. And I’ll add any detail that seems like it’s useful information – or something you may find interesting.
But some veils take an act of courage to drop.