#30DayWritingChallenge: My secret shame.

Day Nineteen: My secret shame.

Be wary of someone who claims their life is an open book. Everyone is hiding something.

That’s the irony of the social media (and the internet in general): it allows us the ability to show our true selves, so of course we take the time to show only the best side of our supposedly true selves. Rarely (or never) the ugly bits.

Even those who supposedly show the less pretty aspects of their lives still manage to keep them within some level of acceptability: It’s funny, or instructional, or it attempts to humanize the sharer.

Of course there are those who willingly share questionable content online: demeaning low-income workers, mistreating children, or even killing dogs. Except for cases where the sharer seem to exhibit serious mental issues, there is an element of pride in these shared posts. The people sharing them do not feel shame in doing so.

There’s that thing, shame. It’s curiously absent from the internet. There those who shame people for their posts or actions, it has become of the favorite pasttimes online. And there are those who thrive in shamelessness. But not much is shared that was driven by shame.

There are many things I have done that I am ashamed of.

My remaining closeted (I think) to my family despite participating in various LGBTIQ orgs and activities is a laughable irony. My previous dismissal of HIV activism until it happened that some people close to me admitted they are positive is something I am making up for, as of late.

My lack of college degree due to my own teenage rebellion and general stupidity still haunts me today. It limits my chances in getting profitable employment.

My promiscuity, on some occasions, despite my insistence that it is not something I should apologize for.

But these are things I can easily admit. I have shared some of them before. But I still keep a few things secret about me. Out of misplaced fear, out of deep shame.

Alas, my secret shame will still remain secret for a little longer.