Set the Secrets Free

Maybe I’m alone here, but why is it, especially during winter, that the willpower to eat well goes out the window at night?

No sugar, carbs, or anything that tastes good is pretty easy until about the time it hits 7pm.

Then, like clockwork, chips & salsa, pizza, brownies, whiskey, really everything but vegetables sound good.

It’s also when Netflix or Hulu becomes an easy escape instead of digging into a book, listening to a podcast, tackling one last project or having a conversation that matters.

A few nights ago, a show was on that must have been so impactful I don’t even remember the title, but I do remember a quote from it…

“Everyone is entitled to their secrets…”

The main character was a cop I think, or maybe I’m getting my shows mixed up. But his intent was to say, “hey your business isn’t my business, keep your secrets, it’ll be fine, they won’t hurt anyone.”

I never said that out loud, but I lived by that principle for many years.

Subconsciously, way under the surface, but a belief that said, “hey my business is my business, I’ll keep my secrets, it’ll be fine, they won’t hurt you.”

I mean, everyone is entitled to their secrets.

The problem with secrets, is that despite the best efforts to keep them secrets, eventually they don’t stay very secretive.

And the distance in time between “nah, I’ll keep this little thing a secret” and “oh shit, the secret is out” does a real doozy on trust, relationships, self love and the stuff that really matters.

Trust me, I know. Or don’t trust me, I wouldn’t have either.

When my life caved in on itself a couple years ago, it’s because some secrets became not so secretive. Some small, some big, some old, some recent that piled up and turned into giant roadblocks that I’m still navigating quite frankly.

In the trauma and turmoil, a good friend of mine recommended a song by this guy with a weird last name, Gullahorn.

His song, “The Secret”, became an IV for my weary veins. I thought for years that I’d carry secrets to the grave. It’s how everyone lives, I’d wrongfully believed.

I mean, everyone is entitled to them, right?

Maybe it’s how many live, but it doesn’t mean it’s how you have to live.

The secrets grow in the darkness. They compound, like bad credit card debt. They fester and mold and creep up through any crack of light they can find.

And before you know it, you’re not carrying the secrets.

They’re carrying you.

Sure, you’re entitled to your secrets if you want. But just admit, they’re carrying you, not the other way around.

They don’t lead to freedom. And they’ll become less secretive eventually anyway.

So set them free.

And in doing so, you’ll be free too. Even if it hurts like hell.

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