My marriage was a mess. The issues between my husband and I were escalating. I felt drained. Not only by our problems but the perceived need to hide them.
The world dictates what is scandalous. What we should and shouldn’t find embarrassing. And society sends a clear message. A failing marriage should be disguised.
I had a secret to keep.
A dirty one.
My heart was forced to pick up a hitchhiker…shame.
It was exhausting.
Some people are content living covertly. I live overtly. I’m less comfortable concealing, more comfortable sharing.
While some might say, “It’s nobody’s business.”
I would say, “Of course it is.”
Mi casa es su casa.
Pretending felt unnatural to me.
I have a friend from college whose husband calls her life story Kate. To meet her is to know her. She’s a giver, a sharer, the more personal the better.
I am a life story, Colleen.
Secrets and I are not synonymous.
But I’m a rule follower so I kept quiet.
Until the whispers started.
Ironically, what I was supposed to hide others were sharing.
I was now masking what everyone else knew. Things were now increasingly uncomfortable. All parties were pretending. Exchanging pleasantries as if everything were hunky-dory. No worries here. My life is just imploding but let’s ignore and hide it. I”m sure that will make things much better.
I existed in this space for some time, actually for too long.
I had never found life embarrassing before nor had I experienced shame.
I found an absurdity to the world’s mandate.
While I hid my secrets from the outside, those who mattered most were living it. The ones within our four walls. They were the people who mattered.
Not the coffee and cocktail whisperers.
Unhappiness should not be accompanied by embarrassment and shame.
Quite the contrary, it’s something to be embraced.
I often say, unhappiness needs to be entertained; ignored, it becomes a houseguest that never leaves.
The longer we deny it and try to make things appear ‘normal’ the more encompassing it becomes.
I regret pretending.
I reject the idea I had a dirty little secret to keep.
The lack of full disclosure made me feel uncomfortable in my own skin. As if my body were there but my emotions had walked out of the room. But I kept all my commitments. The coffees, the volunteer work, the games, the cocktail parties, you name it. I kept going.
When I should have shut out and shut down the outside world.
In favor of the only one that mattered.
My own.
I should have minimized every single commitment and focused strictly on the problems in my marriage. Society should accept and understand that type of prioritizing.
Not find it scandalous.
—
This post was previously published on medium.com.
***
You might also like these from The Good Men Project:
—
Photo credit: Anna Shvets from Pexels