Secrets are as essential to life as breathing, love, sex, cider and caffeine the morning after the night before – not necessarily in that order – don’t let anyone try and convince you otherwise. However, I am talking about the kind that you keep to yourself because it’s your business, or the sort that saves someone the horrendous feelings of inadequacy because they don’t need to know what someone else thought of their dress sense after the fact as examples. This kind keeps the world spinning on its slightly dysfunctional axis.
The ‘I-had-an-unhappy-childhood-right-up-until-I-set-fire-to-the-family-home-with-all-the-occupants-inside’ or ‘I’m-shagging-your-sister-behind-your-back’ kind definitely do not make the world go round. More, come to a grinding halt, spitting out nuts and bolts along the way.
So let’s stick to the first kind for the purposes of this blog.
I am sure we all have a stalwart companion to whom you could disclose your darkest secrets without even a flicker of fear that they could be breached. However the fact of knowing someone elses secrets is addictive and that is why we will all also someone who cannot keep a secret for love nor money but who always seems to get the best gossip. And this is because there is something liberating in revealing secrets.
It’s like stepping out of the carefully created public mask and revealing just a flash of the hidden person underneath that only a few people are privileged to see. Basically I think I’m accidentally comparing it to streaking. Yeah, streaking.
So on that note I fancied a quick flash in the pan myself (if you will) and here are a few things I don’t think many people know at all.
- Soft touch
I may well be the world’s most cantankerous waker-uperer and possibly the least sympathetic person I know to common or garden problems brought on by self-inflicted stupidity in my expert opinion [see previous post for exceptions] but I have a small hidden part of me that I keep deeply buried and has had little reason to surface recently that adores romance.
Oh yes, out loud I may scoff and rely on practicalities over emotion, find the gift of flowers inconvenient because I kill the damn things within days and scare off grown men when they don’t behave while drunk. But underneath I harbour a guilty passion for surprises, gestures and being swept off my feet.
The majority of the time I would probably find it incredibly annoying and untimely but once in a while, I would like to be swept away in something other than a wave of crashing banal reality.
- Girly Girl
Jeans and a hoodie are my staple weekend wear and they are the clothes I am the most comfortable in which is important when the weekends are mostly spent at one rugby club or another, either working or watching. This also suits the fact I was graced with rugby playing legs and horse rider’s arse. I am somewhat of a self-confessed low maintenance gal but on occasion I like to get dressed up to the nines, fling on some bling and sparkle in the room rather than fading into the background as all good staff can. I actually like one or two dresses!
- Wine not
I am not averse to quaffing wine with dinner, I have a glass with the girls on nights in or out and when visiting friends for a housewarming or dinner party I always come armed with a bottle. Its only polite isn’t it?
Except for the fact that I don’t like wine!
I’ve been told I will grow into it, it’s something that needs to be cultivated, different palates prefer different tastes; I just need to find mine and a whole host of other ridiculous things that all amount to the same idea. I’m being given different excuses to put something in my mouth I don’t like and actually, I already know isn’t that good for me!
In this respect, I think I should apply the same logic to wine drinking as I do to oral sex. If I don’t like it, don’t expect me to do anything with it except politely decline. [Added onto that could of course be if you insist then you have to be ready to accept the fact I may well spit it back in your face but perhaps that’s taking the imagery too far…]
If I’m going to go down with liver disease and chronic cirrhosis then it’s going to be with a drink I actually like. Bring on the cider!
I have been told by several people in the last couple of years, I come across as hard. I think this is almost something I deliberately project at times so no-one can see if I’m feeling weak or vulnerable but possibly I have done this a little too well! I like my cover of hardness; it’s soothing to me to know that people think they can’t get in if I don’t want them to, even if I know that may not be strictly true.
Strictly true? That’s pushing the point a bit! I over think, over analyse and over complicate things in my head before they’ve even got as far as far as the vocal chords but fortunately, a few years of practise has taught me the ‘think-it-don’t-say-it’ school of working and I have mostly perfected the ability to not look like I’m chewing a wasp when someone tells me something I don’t want to hear or when I feel something other than ‘fine’. I think I need to reign in my reigning in on this particular subject but it’s hard to break a habit; especially one you’ve adopted deliberately.
There! I almost feel a catharsis coming over me now I have laid bare my inner most feeling and desires… Ok perhaps not but that’s about as much secrecy as I think I’m going to disclose right now and who know? What I think of me may not be the opinion everyone else shares but I’d like to think I know myself well enough to be right. If I were an onion and they were simply parts of the brown outer layers, it’d still be a step closer to the core.
I guess what I’ve been thinking is that people need secrets. They keep the world spinning and the pages turning, without them the relationships we make would take no discovery and the paths we tread would be paved with monotony.
But it’s always worth remembering that just as you guard your secrets, everyone else has their own, and that perhaps sometimes all you see is not all there is to be seen. Just because someone allows you to peek between their pages doesn’t give you the right to flick to the end. You take all the fun out of the journey and ultimately ruin a good story.
A word of warning to those hell-bent on uncovering the truth no matter why it was hidden, be it physical, practical, emotion or literal. Secrets are exciting to discover, but once they’re out there, there’s no putting them back. When you get through all the layers of the onion, ultimately all you have is a handful of onion layers and eyes full of tears.