For all that I am accused of being a liar I am terribly honest. Yes I may make a lot of things up, but they are not lies to hide a secret. They are just mistruths to make life more interesting.
If you ask me a question though I have to answer, and if the truth is more interesting and juicier than any lie I can come up with you will get a huge burst of honesty.
I am terrible at keeping a secret, if anything is so exciting that it needs an embargo on it I would rather I didn’t know.
As soon as we found out that we were having our first child I was so excited I wanted to tell everyone.
“But you should wait until the 3, 4, 5 month scan or once they arrive”.
What is the point of a secret if you can’t spend months in advance getting excited? Part of the joy of having a secret is that someone is going to be surprised, and that means there will be some point where the know-knowing turns into the found-out. Why does it matter when that point is?
Last year I had booked a secret weekend in London where I would take Mrs G to see Les Miserables (as we do every year) as well as Afternoon Tead and a fancy hotel. I had the hard decision of whether to keep it quiet and try to find a way to discretely pack for the weekend.
I chose to tell her, and tell her months in advance. We spent many weeks planning excitedly what we would do once we were in London, we got to look through restaurant menus and look at where we would shop.
The small pleasure of the surprise was surpassed by the fun of the expectation. This is why I can’t keep a secret, it’s much better to share the truth and be excited together than sad you can’t share the joy alone.
What’s the most significant secret you’ve ever kept? Did the truth ever come out?
Source: Evasive Action