Summary

The article discusses the universal nature of having personal secrets or "skeletons in the closet," emphasizing the importance of sharing these with trusted confidants rather than keeping them suppressed.

Abstract

The narrative revolves around the theme that every individual harbors private matters they prefer to keep hidden due to their sensitive and potentially damaging nature. The author draws a parallel with a television show where a character's seemingly perfect life unravels to reveal a complex personal history. The article argues that while it may be tempting to keep these secrets buried, especially when they involve others or could cause harm, it is psychologically unsustainable. The author reflects on their own experiences, acknowledging moments of imperfection and the realization that sharing these hidden aspects of their life with a therapist, close friends, and a partner is crucial for personal well-being. The piece concludes that everyone has such secrets and that acknowledging and discussing them, rather than repressing them, is healthier, even though society often presents a polished version of individuals' lives.

Opinions

The author believes that everyone has aspects of their lives they keep secret, which may not align with their public persona.
Keeping these secrets hidden can be detrimental, leading the author to consider seeking help for potential PTSD and questioning their own coping mechanisms.
Sharing one's deepest secrets with trusted individuals, such as a therapist or loved ones, is presented as a necessary step for emotional health and self-preservation.
The author suggests that while the world may not be ready to confront these darker realities, individuals benefit from opening up to confidants.
There is an acknowledgment that past actions, which might be regrettable or cast the individual in a negative light, are part of one's history but do not solely define a person.

We All Have Skeletons In Our Closets

And simply bottling everything in is not the answer

In one of my favorite shows, the protagonist’s wife dies tragically, and no one knows how. She had a reputation as a good, kind, perfect person to almost everyone. Behind the scenes, she was a controlling wife who got mad at her husband any time he drank more than a beer at night.

In the season finale, it’s revealed that she died after being murdered by her sister’s husband. They were having an affair, and she threatened to tell her sister about the affair.

The theme of the episode and the season is that everyone has skeletons in the closet.

We all have skeletons in the closet, too

Whether we like to admit it or not, there are things we generally just don’t tell people about life. Whether it’s family trauma or bad things we’ve done, there are instances in our lives that if revealed to the world, just don’t depict us in the most favorable manner.

I have skeletons in the closet. As a writer online, I would love to tell these stories. But I can’t write about them because a lot of other people are involved and because it would ruin a lot of people’s lives and cause even more trauma. It would cause a lot of harm. Maybe I can when I’m older. Maybe I can if I’ve outlived all other parties involved.

But now is not the time to dredge up those skeletons. And I acknowledge in those stories, I don’t come off the most favorably. In some, I come across as the villain of the story. As a teacher, I don’t know if there are students who think of me as a terrible teacher or someone who did nothing to further their education.

Hindsight is 20/20, but in all of those instances, I acted with the moral compass I always act with. Or at least I thought I did. I’m not saying I did absolutely nothing wrong, but it’s much easier to regret in hindsight than it is to capture what I was thinking at the moment.

Regardless, I have a strong enough sense of self-preservation to give my side of the story when push comes to shove. I used to think I would just take one for the good of society and lay down and take whatever was given to me to make it easier on everyone.

But now, I do have something to lose. I have a partner, a full-time job, and soon, I will have a family. It will do nothing to completely martyr my reputation and good standing with the world just because it would make it easier for other people.

Once I get to know people well enough, I realize everyone has these deep dark secrets in their lives, skeletons in their closets they cannot share with the rest of the world. I’ve become close enough to a couple of people that they can’t share it with their families. I’ve come to realize that every person has these skeletons, even if they don’t realize it.

Perhaps the world is better off not knowing. Perhaps most people in their lives would be better off not knowing. And perhaps, at the end of the day, we’re not ready.

We need to have our confidants

I have a therapist, and I also have a couple friends I share everything with. I have a spouse I share everything with.

If I could just keep these dark secrets to myself, I would. But I realized that was unsustainable. I realized I needed to get those skeletons in the closet off my chest. I think about them all the time, even if these times in my life have gotten more distant, even if the trauma happened five to fifteen years ago.

I’ve thought about whether I needed to get checked out for PTSD. I’ve thought about whether I’m really alright if I stay busy and try to ignore these parts of my life. A lot of the details of what happened are bound by rules of confidentiality of my employment, and I could get in trouble if I told my therapist confidential information about my students, for example.

But the world is changing, and simply bottling everything in, I’ve realized, is not the answer.

No matter how well, we know people, everyone is putting on a face and a front. It might be a really genuine front, but even people we think we know very well aren’t going to reveal those skeletons in the closet to us.

Perhaps they’re too personal. Perhaps they don’t paint us in the best light.

But everyone has those skeletons. And although what happened in the past doesn’t define someone, it’s not like we can repress the past and pretend it never happened.