How to decide how much to reveal about yourself
People ask me all the time how I can be so honest about my life in my blog. They want to know how I can write about marriage, sex, abortions, or running out of money over and over again. It's an endless list really, of the stuff I write about that people can’t believe I'm writing about.
But each of you has a list of things in your life similar to that, it’s just a list you don't want to talk about. I'm not special—I don't have more stuff that is difficult to talk about. I just have more difficulty not talking about difficult stuff.
This is why.
I’m going to start by telling you that I was at the World Trade Center when it fell. I was in a post-traumatic stress support group afterward. People were divided into groups of ten based on their experience at the site—how bad things were for you that day. I was in a group comprised mostly of people who narrowly escaped the building before it fell and, as they were running out of the building, were splattered by body parts from people who were jumping out of the building.
We had individual therapy as well. Here's what my therapist said to me: “Your childhood was so terrible that your experience at the World Trade Center was nothing compared to what you experienced as a kid. Your post-traumatic stress therapy needs to focus on your childhood.”
That was the first time I really had a sense of how bad my childhood had been. I knew everyone in the world thought things at the World Trade Center were terrible. So this must mean that my childhood was really terrible.
I was 34.
When I was five, I knew something was not right. That's when I started therapy. I was never totally sure why my parents were sending me.
When I was seven I knew something was not right because the neighbor came over to our house when my parents were smashing picture frames over each others' head. The neighbor said to me and my little brother, “Come with me.”
Then my memories get blurry. The next thing I remember is my high school homeroom teacher. I skipped a day of school and then came to school with a black eye and a note from my dad that said I had been sick. She said that she was not accepting notes from my dad anymore. She said I could not come back to school the next time I miss a day unless I called the police.
I don't remember what I thought when she said that. Except that I thought, “Does she know what's going on at my house? How does she know? I never told her anything.”
I remember the next time my dad beat me up though. I called the police and they came. Like always. And my dad said nothing was wrong. Like always. And then the police started to leave. Like always.
But then I said, “Hold it. Wait. My teacher won't let me back in school unless I get a note from you that says I called you.”
I don't remember what else happened. I remember the police asking me if I want to leave. I remember my mom saying, “Yes. Please. Take her away. Please.”
I went to my grandma's to live. I spent all of high school living at my grandma's. The school social worker spent the rest of high school trying to convince me that my parents did something wrong. My grandma spent the rest of high school telling me that my parents were completely irresponsible. Except at family gatherings. When my parents were there, with my three brothers, and everyone pretended that everything was normal and that I did not live at my grandma's.
I don't remember very much. I went to college and spent my time trying to sort things out: abusive boyfriends, bulimia, anti-depressants, and cutting. Getting nearly straight-A's for a lot of the time. I sorted very little out.
I went to a mental ward the summer of my senior year. My parents visited me. They told me they were happy I was in the mental ward. My extended family visited me and they did not mention my parents. No one talked about why I might be there. My parents were anxious and loud in the family meetings: Begging the doctors to keep me from going back to their house. But even the doctors could not quite figure out why I was there: I worked on my senior thesis, I was a model patient, and I started dating a doctor right after that.
After I graduated, I moved back to Chicago, where he lived and so did my parents. I couldn't figure out how to support myself and there were so many opportunities for me to try nude modeling jobs. The doctor thought it was ridiculous. He thought I was too uptight to model. I said I probably was, but I wanted to try because it was such good money. I said they first test you out in a swimsuit.
He said, “Don't you need some sample photos?”
I said, “Yeah. I have some,” and I pulled them out of my bag.
The doctor looked. He smiled. He said, “Who took them?”
I said, “My dad.”
The doctor flipped. He went nuts. He couldn't believe it.
I was mostly surprised. I had no idea that my dad taking the photos was weird.
That I didn't know it was weird made the doctor even more upset. I remember trying to figure out why I thought it was okay. Or why he thought it was not okay.
I was 22.
I didn't tell anyone about the pictures. I started having nightmares about having sex with my parents. I started not being able to sleep. I didn't tell anyone though. Because I thought I was crazy.
Then my dad visited me a few years later, when I lived in Los Angeles. He wanted to go camping. I went. I was so nervous about being alone with him that I read almost all of One Hundred Years of Solitude before I went into the tent.
Then he took off his clothes, down to his underwear, and snuggled up next to me, with his arms around me and his penis up against my back.
Then I knew.
Or I thought I knew.
I slept outside the tent. I didn't talk the rest of the time. I don't think he even noticed.
I know the street in Los Angeles we were parked on when I finally asked, “Dad, did you do sexually inappropriate things with me when I was younger?”
He said, “Yes.”
I had no memory of what, exactly, he did. I still have no memory of it. And I was scared to ask him more. I asked my mom the same question. She gave me the same answer.
Both parents have said they were sorry. But that is not my point. My point is that my childhood was ruined by secrets.
In hindsight, so many people kept the secret: my family, the police, teachers before my freshman year. Decades later, when I asked my high school friends what they thought of me in high school, two of them told me that everyone thought I was nuts coming to school beaten up so often.
I'm not kidding when I say that I thought I was keeping that a secret.
So what I'm telling you here is that I'm scared of secrets. I'm more scared of keeping things a secret than I am of letting people know that I'm having trouble. People can't believe how I'm willing to write about my life here. But what I can't believe is how much better my life could have been if it had not been full of secrets.
So today, when I have a natural instinct to keep something a secret, I think to myself, “Why? Why don't I want people to know?” Because if I am living an honest life, and my eyes are open, and I'm trying my hardest to be good and kind, then anything I'm doing is fine to tell people.
That's why I can write about what I write about on this blog.
And when you think you cannot tell someone something about yourself, ask yourself, “Really, why not?”
Thank you for you honesty and vulnerability. Perhaps you can help me reconcile the stark contrast between my world and yours. In my career, telling the truth limits people. In your career as a writer, the truth sets you free…and it sells, really sells (which is a good thing. You’re blessed to be a blessing.)
Let’s talk about being open and honest in the work place.
Admitting strengths can be as deadly for a career as admitting weaknesses. Come review time, "Oh, Mary. Great with people but she told me she has trouble understanding and analyzing our monthly financial statements. She's a good fit in sales, but not management material. No promotion. Who is next?"
What is going on here? Is this apart of some natural pursuit to call each thing by its right name? To classify a person, judge her, define her, and place implied or explicit limits upon her. Or is it a sign of efficiency in some economic pursuit; by way of finding the right tool for the right job?
The later option seems more strategic, less inhumane. But all of us struggle to define the world around us; to interpret and understand everything our senses tell us. Management is no different.
Once personal information is exposed, management has new information from which to make decisions. If management cannot find a use for someone's strengths or a way to exploit their weaknesses they are not re-trained, not mentored or consulted. They are often left pegged into a role or summarily dismissed.
Okay, so I was just running the risk of being melodramatic in that last paragraph to anyone who has not been in my shoes. Now, before you put me in a box and summarily dismiss me, please bare in mind that I have seen this and personally experienced management's indifference for cultivating excellence or professional growth.
So what is our play here as brazen careerists?
Btw, my CFO called this morning. "Come by my office this Friday at 2. Let's discuss the projects you're working on along with a list of your strengths and weaknesses." The calendar is blocked out for an hour.
Can you say, "Kiss of Death"? How sweet it is to be honest – and sour to be judged.
p.s. – At our last division meeting this same CFO pulled out Steve's resume, a co-worker who has been with the firm for 10+ years, as a means of anecdotally reciting attributes about him. That info was 10 years old. Great, we all now know Steve from a decade ago. Most people there don't know Steve and won't get to know Steve. However, those unfamiliar with Steve now have an impression of who he is. That impression is likely given considerable weight because leadership manifested it.
I'm all for honesty. I honestly believe indiscriminate honesty is detrimental to careers.
Great post.
Unfortunately, to say ‘honesty is the only policy’ is both wrong and really, really bad career advice.
But you must realize that PT is not so much as an ‘adviser’ as entertainer. So while you may benefit from her honesty or different perspective, her career advice is a bit ‘off the cuff’ + I don’t think you want to emulate her career trajectory.
Thanks Will. I have gotten entertaining insights from this blog. Was just hoping to glean insight on managing the delicate balance between honesty and, well – trajectory. I appreciate your comment.
Thanks for the post. It is amazing that after all that you went in your childhood you have turned out to be one of the most balanced people whose blogs I like reading. I like the way you are so upfront about everything. It is something that all of us humans should be. We as humans can be sometimes sneaky. We try to show how great our lives are compared to others. So why not just be honest and stop wasting time by pretending that everything is going well for us. Nobody has a perfect life.
Penelope I feel your pain and understand. I was beaten pretty regularly growing up. It is hard to trust anyone that boy that is now a man is scarred for life.
Best…
Thank you so much for your awesome blog, Penelope :) I love every word and I never think you tell too much because I always want to know more! Even if I will never meet you, you are a mentor to me. Have a fabulous day!
For the first time, I understand why I don’t believe in holding things in or keeping secrets. If I’d gone to therapy, it would probably take me years to understand what I learned in this single blog post.
I commend you for your courage and honesty. I had a similar childhood…not my parents…but my cousin, ongoing. Secrets ruined my childhood. Things could have been so much clearer out in the open.
I am glad that you are doing well now. :)
And we wonder why the world sees Americans as ignorant.
I’m affected by your sharing and I have a question. Have you experienced new relationships with people who have had a wholesome, non-troublesome childhood? If so, at what point do you share the problematic details of your life? In my case, it isn’t just what was wrong with my family but the times I did wrong and/or weak things due to what I had become.
Thanks,
Linda
Hello!
I sent a response about sharing who we’ve become as opposed to what was done to us. I have a social life where people aparently haven’t had major dyfunctions. I’ve got sins/weakness in my past that I feel I need to share before getting into a relationship with someone. I’m terrified to share these things. But some good part of me wants to get these things out before I allow a relationship to go forward. Any advice?
Thanks,
Linda
I was incredibly moved and touched by your account, and the further I read along, the more I thought to myself, “This dear person has got to read Alice Miller.” Alice Miller’s books literally saved and changed my life and the lives of many, many other. Her books are all about coming to grips with childhood trauma and what she calls “poisonous pedagogy.” She’s especially remarkable in explaining how childhood abuse is denied and covered up by almost everyone *because* of the inner, largely unconscious psychological need to “protect the parent” at all costs.
You may well know about Alice Miller, but perhaps others here haven’t heard. I can’t recommend her enough for her compassion and depth of understanding of the problem, and hidden epidemic, that your account so vividly details. Her books, and insights, are healing and liberating.
I especially recommend:
For Your Own Good: Hidden Cruelty in Child-Rearing and the Roots of Violence
Banished Knowledge: Facing Childhood Injuries
Thou Shalt Not Be Aware: Society’s Betrayal of the Child
The Drama of the Gifted Child: The Search for the True Self
(here gifted does not mean high IQ or the like)
With all best wishes,
Steve
Mr. Goodheart’s recommended reading is so good I wish I had thought of it myself. We read Alice Miller in graduate school. Her writing made a very deep impression. ‘The Drama of the Gifted Child’ was particularly poignant. Mr. Goodheart is right, on all counts.
Someone linked me to this article after I posted one of the very few personal things I will within my blog – I’ll need to thank them, and you. I doubt I’ll ever be able to write about it as fluently as you can, even understanding the why. I don’t want to keep it a secret from other people, I need it to stay a secret from me, as much as possible. Regardless, I think this post will have some definite influence on what I choose to write.
Thank you.
Really depends on the person, there are things I tell my wife that I won’t tell others. My childhood was fairly happen, two parents and no wierd sh$t going on with me. However, the fact that my father died of cancer when I was 17, that my parents lost their house because they couldn’t afford it, or my older brother died when he was 28 after a stem cell transplant that I gave him for his Leukemia are things I don’t feel comfortable sharing at work, in spite of having been here for two years.
I am perfectly OK with this.
I think you’re very brave. Not everyone that I know with such a past acknowledges it and tries to move on.
This is the first blog that has brought me to tears. Your strength is an inspiration. Thank you.
Dear Penelope,
Your blogs, and this one in particular, are an inspiration.
I live in a mote of secrets. And the one that I am most pained about is the secret of my sister who died of leukemia when she was 6 years old. I was just 8.
I think that it is just too painful for me to speak about- and I have lifelong friends that don’t know that my sister ever lived. In a way by keeping her a secret I protect her memory-I remember clearly when a high school friend visited my house and asked who the girl in the picture was and I told her it was my sister she answered “that is really freaky”.
I feel such guilt that I am not allowing her the legacy that she deserves. Never in my life have I encountered anyone with such stoicism and optimism. She lived with such wander and enthusiasm- trying to gobble up as much of the world as she could. And she had this wise philosophy on life. She made sure that we knew how much she loved us and she tried to comfort US in our pain!
She has been my life’s sadness and my life’s strength. She has refined my life’s philosophy- the people that I choose to socialise with and the things that I choose to live for. And I believe that she has instilled in me an unending compassion. In some way she has allowed me to have empathy to feel and understand the vulnerability and fragility of the human condition.
She is indeed my greatest love- and yet I choose to bury her.
I hope that I can start to speak about her more. You’re right- if there is no shame and no harm why not share it?
Simone,
I am so moved by your words. You must know by now that your sister lives in you and is so much a part of who you are today. Perhaps it is time to celebrate her, embrace the teachings of her all-too-brief life and spread the seeds of wisdom that she instilled in you. And also to forgive yourself…to quote Wally Lamb …”love grows in the rich loam of forgiveness.” You sound like a lovely person.
Penelope – what a lifetime of terrible experiences, and yet you are so brave to speak out. I too suffered abuse as a child (though nothing to what you suffered) and have told people at various times. If you did nothing wrong, why hide? It is not your fault, yet why is it so often the victim who feels embarressed?
My sister sent me your blog post. Its like she was reading my mind. I’ve been formulating a post for my blog about the different direction my own blog needs to take in the next year. I’ve only been touching the fringes of that safe blanket of honesty…this was the first time I tried being honest about things in a very long time. My childhood experience is if you’re honest you lose everything.
http://wildculturecafe.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-friend-rebecca-posted-this-today-and.html
40 and its time I stopped forcing the smile on and swallowing down the anxiety and dealing with these same kind of issues.
Thank you for your honesty. Thank you for sharing your story.
I just stumbled on your site for the first time (thanks to Kelly Diels).
Wow, I am so amazed at your honesty about this topic. I had a similar sitch, and I tend to keep all that stuff secret.
You’ve inspired me to open up a little on my own blog. I just had it in my head that a professional blog should only be, well, professional.
But now I understand why you have so many followers. You are open, warm, honest, and damn interesting.
Congratulations on surviving your childhood. You’re an amazing woman. I hope you know that!
This is absolutely what I would say about the phenomenon, that people are telling their personal thoughts and stuff to a large public on the web. I´m wrote a academic paper about a similar topic. Because of the anonymity of the web (even if you´re not really anonym), you are much more able to share your thoughts. Some therapists use this effect to help their clients getting well with problems.
Very late comment………..
I am not trying to be “heartless.”
But while there are a lot of folks who identify with the Penelope blog, sometime too much information(TMI)is not necessary or even a good thing.
However, Penelope keep up the great blogging.
I sincerely hope that you’re in group therapy for childhood sexual abuse and post traumatic as a result of what happened. I know that you have Asperger’s and find it hard to empathize, but hearing other people say what you’ve thought might really help.
Hi Penelope,
Thank you for sharing your experiences. I hope you find peace of mind and disregard any useless negative comments.
When other people are able to talk/write candidly about their past it takes me one step closer to doing the same, which I think will help me – once I finally get there. “There” might not be a public blog (I wouldn’t be able to handle the comments) but rather a long-overdue conversation with my sisters & mother.
-Alicia
FREAKING brillant. The part about living in honesty and no secrets! Many many secrets in my childhood as well so I get the whole no secrets thing.
I once had a therapist who believed that secrets are so toxic that our children will live them out. I am sure that caring about readers’ reactions ruins a blogger, that I’ve let it ruin me. I keep vowing to stop censoring myself, to say what I really thing, to write more honestly. So far, I haven’t been able to do that. Thank you.
You are such a beautiful person. God bless you. You have helped me and so many others. Very moving…
When you share these family secrets you let other people know they can too and the taboos may start to be lifted. One day this kind of thing won’t go on anymore because people like you were brave enough to share your story. Thank you. The story is very sad and you are the heroine.
Wow…thank you for being so brave and open. Humans have a such a hard time with confronting our own lives, the darkness and the pain of it all and because of that, it makes some of us struggle to face our demons and shadows. I too have felt like this in my life, the desperate need to purge information and call out what is happening because no one else is brave enough to or seems to care enough to talk about it or simply because it needed to be named. Different circumstances but similar feelings…suppression of what feels uncomfortable. I have found it during my life to be one of the most troublesome issues, and equally baffling how so many people would rather ignore what ails them, what crimes are being committed, what pains the family or as they say, mention the elephant in the room. And yet no one can move? There becomes this stifling energy that one has to learn to navigate around and thus form strange behaviors and habits to adapt. And thereby creating dis-ease. I figure that’s most of us by now. :( Yet it’s been a harrowing road because as I’m sure you’ve experienced, being the one canary in your own personal coal mine, you put yourself at risk of being sacrificed and doomed to obscurity by those around you who would rather live in the darkness of repression.
And yet I get it, the necessity of speaking out and in one’s own desperate effort attempting to right the wrong’s of your life!
I get it….The need to scream ones head off in a room full of mute people. Simply because of the deafening silence. So keep on, and maybe little by little the rest of us will tag along.
I will consider my own advice and keep on as well. :)
Thx.
Dami
Hi,
Im not sure how I stumbled onto your blog (actually yes i do… just remembered, I googled “how to figure out what you are good at). No matter, I cant express how good it feels to read something so honest. I feel like i just spoke to you face to face and listened to you share some part of your life, which is very special.
Thanks,
I dont feel so alone anymore.
I like your post. I am posting this anonymously, how ironic, but I usually don’t. I usually use my real name. I remember when I first started dong that, thinking of it as a kind of accountability for whatever it is I say online, perhaps contain my passion (which can grow very large an unruly under the guise of anonymity) for the issues I like to write about.
Unfortunately it has been a mixed bag. I am an not ashamed of anything I believe, but some of my views are, um, expressed from a quite contrarian viewpoint and I will debate them quite passionately. This has lead to conflicts when pursuing relationships (both personal and business). To have literally thousands of blog posts and comments come up when anyone types my real name into google, it can make me feel very insecure and vulnerable, and in some cases the software is so antiquated that comments/accounts cannot be deleted so they will be there for all who seek them until the site/server disappears. Like I said I am not ashamed of my politics but it can be annoying when someone you are pursuing a relationship is turned off because of a comment or blog post you made in 2005.
And of course, I could merely stop using my real name online, but that won’t stop google from pulling up the thousands of things I’ve written in the past seven years or so.
brave. thank you.
I wonder if your mother’s visit has something to do with a possible uptick in fighting with the Farmer and the low, lost feeling you are having now.
I am really amazed at how open and brave you are in your writings. It is truly inspirational. Thank you.
This is the only blog I read simply for the pleasure of reading great writing, interesting (and true) stories. I’m constantly surprised, impressed, stupefied, horrified, humored, incited…….
I empathize your experience, and I apologize re: my comment regarding “quitting” on your marriage. Keep finding your way back, and thank you for writing about your experience. I’m certain you’ve prompted a few readers to frankly face a painful experience of there own. Keep being great!
This post made me cry. It hit close to home. I know exactly what secrets do too. Thank you for being you.
Thank you for sharing. I commend you for your candor. One of your best assets, which is why I continue to read. OB
I do have to say I am totally for being open on my blog and I thank you for your take on it too. I reveal the "darker" stuff but frame it in the way I see it – as a growth experience and learning opportunity. I never complain about things on my blog without actually creating an action plan to do something about them. I share my struggles with the hope that others will relate and together we can help each other; not for the sake of complaining about things. I think if an employer were to read my blog, they would get a sense of the REAL me, and if they didn't want to hire me because of it, then I probably wouldn't be a good fit for that organization. I see potential employers reading my blog the same way I'd see potential friends reading it – they get a picture of the real deal, not just the sunshine-and-roses stuff. I think it's always good to be true to yourself, and the ones who'll see it as a positive and want to hire/befriend you anyway are the ones that are meant to be in your life, and the ones that don’t aren’t.
I’m glad you write about it. I feel the same way that it is better to not keep a secret. People have said I share too much, but it is better than keeping secrets.
I am amazed and relieved to read this. My family trauma details were different, but everything else the same, including my utter need for honesty. Thank you thank you thank you for sharing. I’ve been catching up on your many other blogs and knew I trusted your voice. Now I know why.
Thank you so much for sharing. I appreciate your openness and honesty. I have often been accused of “oversharing” my life. But I’ve always lived out in the open and when I am unable to do that, it causes me great personal stress. I don’t like hiding anything about myself, because I don’t believe that there is anything that should be hidden. I’ve never understood why so many people have such a problem being true to themselves in the light of day in front of everyone. It’s very refreshing to find others who feel the same way. I will follow and read you as long as you continue to write. :)
I love this post. I’ve read it so many times. It is so refreshing to see how honest you are. Thank-you for sharing.
I think you´re very breave. Not everyone that i know witch such a past acknowledges it and tries to move on
I think you´re very breave.
You know how there are all kinds of heart shaped tchotkes? There are ceramic hearts, metal hearts, wire hearts, stone hearts, big hearts, small hearts, glass hearts, hearts inside of hearts….
The most beautiful of all are the cracked clear glass hearts; resilient, showing strength and fragility simultaneously.
That’s the kind of heart you have.
I wish I knew you personally. Uh, that sounds creepy. I just mean that you are awesome.
Thanks for the great advice. New years is a great time to refocus and come up with some new goals for any small business. Look over last years profits and this year, reach a little higher. Thanks.
Wow. Beautifully written and sad.
If someone were to write a fraction with “difficulties Layla has had” divided by “difficulties Penelope has had”, the order of magnitude of this ratio would be comparable to measuring a quark in metres (you’d pretty much have to use scientific notation.)
That was supposed to be a mathy way of saying my troubles are insignificant compared to yours.
I’m glad your life is better now.
Hello my dear! I just found your blog and I must have read about 50 posts so far… I’m hooked by your honesty, courage and determination… I had a quite happy childhood but I think I share a lot with you and I can relate…. I’m obsessed with truth and justice somehow..I think that you are one brave lady for facing your truth and sharing all that. If only more people were like that… I wish I could meet you in person and just… talk! Please send my respect and greetings to your lovely farmer! Keep being you…! :)