Wednesday, December 8, 2004
I've found that if you divulge enough shocking and "embarrassing" things about yourself, people will think of you as forthright, open, even courageous and entertaining. If you choose those details carefully, you can reveal tons of intimate moments of your life without exposing a single sincere facet of your actual self.
That's how it started, anyway, for me, as a defense mechanism. A way to appear transparent without actually revealing anything below skin level. But it's kind of become a habit now and I've learned to care less and less about what I reveal. My discernment gland has withered with disuse, causing a shortage of discretion in my system--so now not only do I not always make wise choices about what to reveal, I often seem to be unable to choose at all. I often find myself two-thirds of the way through some cringe-worthy story before it hits me that I have no idea why I am babbling on in that particular direction. I am lucky (or delusional) in that most of the people to whom I find myself divulging unexpected secrets seem to find it eccentric and charming rather than rude and burdensome.