Sshhhh, It’s A Secret . . .

Wednesday 23 January 2019

In my quest last week to come up with a topic upon which to write a blog post, you’ll remember I mentioned that I’d read a few blog posts about what to do if you had no idea for a blog post. These posts that I read also gave specific ideas for posts to write. One of them, I’ve decided, is the basis for this particular post.

One of the authors of the get-yourself-out-of-blog-post-writing-slumps-with-these-great-ideas suggested that a brilliant idea for a post would be to write about a secret that you’ve never told anyone, until now. It’s a corker of an idea, right? I mean, who doesn’t want to confess a secret they’ve been holding onto for however long to a bunch of global, mostly strangers who happen to peruse the Internet looking for things to read and/or people who follow one’s blog? It’s a fabulous idea. What could possibly go wrong? *Insert laughter here* Right, what could possibly go wrong? I don’t even want to go there because there’s so much that could go wrong and backfire on a person.

However, here I am, about to write that very post. A blog post that will go out into the great, vast World Wide Web for all and sundry to read now and in the future, for all eternity – or as long as the Internet or humanity lasts. I’m about to confess a secret to you, dear Reader, that I’ve never disclosed to anyone, anywhere, until right at this very moment. Well, technically not at this very moment, but soon. Y’know, after I finish with this lil lead up to actually writing the secret, after I’ve provided you with a bit of background that might help you better understand why I’ve kept this secret for so long.

Of course, it all starts back when I was a kid. And by ‘kid’ I obviously mean small child, not an actual kid as in baby goat. Although, I’m thinking that a lot of the time there’s not a lot of difference between the behaviours of small children and baby goats. There are discernibly clear differences between small children and baby goats, the most distinct being Homo sapien versus Capra aegagrus hircus – completely different species. And baby goats do that whole cute pronking and jumping around like, y’know, baby goats. That’s not something you see small human children do. In my opinion, small human children are nowhere near as entertaining as baby goats. (Yeah, probably going to cop flack for that comment.) Anyway, back to the point . . .

This whole secret I’ve never told anyone, until now, does in fact date back to when I was a small child. I had enough friends, so there were plenty of people I could have confessed it to, but I’m not that sort of person. I certainly wasn’t that sort of kid. If you told me a secret, it stayed exactly that – a secret. I’m still pretty much that person now . . . unless your secret has high entertainment value, because then I’m likely to have a bloody good giggle at your expense. Hey, I’d expect you to do the same with any secret of mine, otherwise there’s no way I’d consider making light of you and your secret. It’s common sense really.

There was always one thing I wanted to confess to when I was a kid, and it stayed with me through my teenage years and into adulthood. It’s the secret that I still keep close to my chest, until now. Again, technically, not quite now at this minute, because I’m still giving you the background to the secret. I know, I know, you just want me to stop waffling and get on with the confession. I can sense, even though you’re not reading the post as I write it right now, you’re willing me to spill my guts and let you in on what could possibly be so . . . so . . . so dramatic that I’ve had to hold on to it until I became a blog writing adult who needed a topic upon which to base my next blog post.

Hold your horses for just a bit longer, I’m getting there. Anyway, holding on to this secret and then writing about how I’ve held on to this secret from childhood until now brings me to the fact that yesterday (at the time of writing) was my birthday and I’m a whole year older. And you know how things get when you get older. Maybe you become more confident and decide that you want the world to know something about you. Or maybe it’s a matter of you just not being able to live the way you have before. Y’know, you decide that now is the time for you to live, what do they call it, the “gurus”? That’s right, your authentic self. I think that’s a bit of claptrap, this whole authentic self thing. Everyone seems to have jumped on a live your authentic life as your authentic self bandwagon and it’s not necessarily something I can stomach all that well . . . probably because I’ve always been comfortable being me. But I’ll go with it for the purpose of writing this post and exposing such a vulnerable piece of me.

Vulnerable – yes, that’s a way that at some point in our lives we probably all find ourselves feeling. Some more than others, I expect, because their secret might be that they’re gay, lesbian, asexual, bisexual, pansexual, transgender, non-binary, queer . . . LGBTQIAP+. Their secret might be confronting because they’ve been abused, raped, victimised, assaulted . . . That’s not the sort of secret I’ve been keeping either.

No, as it was my birthday yesterday (at the time of writing), I simply want to open up to you, dear Reader, and let you into my world a little more. So, here we go . . . my secret revolves around the fact that . . . sh!t. What was I going to write? Urgh, it’s that whole had a bloody birthday and got older thing that happens when you can’t remember a sh!tting thing about what you were going to say or do. Stay with me here, I’ll remember it. I’ll get back to it, I promise. It’s just that in giving you background on why I wanted to confess this secret, I’ve misplaced said secret in the ol’ grey matter, and the ol’ grey matter is now heavily impacted upon by middle age. Well, older middle age. You know how that works, right? The older you get the more you forget sh!t because you’ve learned so much other sh!t in your life, you have to let some of it go in order to make space for the newer sh!t you’re trying to learn and remember.

Look, I’ll have to get back to you on that whole I’ve-got-a-secret-to-confess-in-a-blog-post thing when I remember it.

**Got you reading a whole blog post to find out one of my secrets though, didn’t I? 😉

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About Danielle

I like to write. What more is there to know?
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2 Responses to Sshhhh, It’s A Secret . . .

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