I was in my home, sitting on a chair, facing a lovely woman, I’ll call her Ellen, whose healer friend had introduced us. She had been HIV positive for many years and she had nearly died. Back in the eighties when she contracted the virus, there was only one available
option, a pill called AZT that was meant to extend your life but it was killing people at the same time. She had avoided death by eating macrobiotic and now that there were medications they called “the cocktail,” it was no longer a death sentence.
Ellen was at my house because she had written a manuscript about her healing journey. She wanted editing and any suggestions I might have. She looked so small and fragile on my long white couch but I found out pretty soon that she was the polar opposite of fragile. As she told me her story, I realized that she was one of the strongest women I had ever met.
She had contracted HIV from her husband who had died of AIDs. He had pleaded with her to keep his diagnosis a secret and tell people he had cancer. When she got her own diagnosis he pleaded with her again to keep it secret so it wouldn’t expose his. She had agreed and helped him die with his secret intact. But there was a lot more to that secret. While she and I were working together, she discovered that her husband had had a male lover and he was having unprotected sex with both of them.
“As hard as it was to watch my husband die and to feel the betrayal,” she told me, “keeping the secret was much worse. I felt isolated from my friends and family and that was what nearly killed me.” When she finally told the truth, a great burden was lifted from her chest and her day to day life became much easier.
As a ghostwriter, keeping secrets is part of my job. The NDA I sign for each project has the word “perpetuity” in the contract:
“You agree not to divulge any information or the existence of this agreement to any party other than our representatives, in perpetuity.” Forever.
That gives the client the freedom to tell me anything she wants while it gives me the burden of carrying her secrets to the grave. It also gives other people the challenge of trying to trick me into spilling the beans on someone. I never have. First of all, I signed on the dotted line which would mean a nasty law suit for me if I broke the contact. But there’s no risk of that. I would never do that to anyone, no matter who they were, what they did or how much money someone dangled in front of me. I would never tell someone else’s secrets which has taught me to avoid having my own.
When I was about to start writing my memoir, I had a decision to make. Was I going to expose the truth about myself and tell it like it is or would I tell it like I wanted it to be? Would I be transparent and talk about things that embarrassed me or would I save face? I decided to tell the truth. I figured if I had done something, a lot of
other people had done it too. They just weren’t ready to talk about it and I was.
I feel that it’s a writer’s responsibility to tell the truth about things that other people might keep hidden. After the book came out, a friend invited me to her book club to discuss my memoir. There were about 20 women gathered and at some point, a woman asked me, “How could you have told the truth about your abusive marriage? Didn’t it make you feel weak and humiliated?”
“It did,” I said, “but I didn’t want to keep secrets.” I looked around the room. “Is there a woman here who hasn’t made some bad choices when it comes to relationships?”
Everyone looked down at their feet. I understood that we were all the same, but I had found the courage to talk about it, to expose the secrets that every woman carries.
Human beings crave connection and community and secrets isolate us. They cause us to hide our vulnerabilities. It’s like wearing a suit of armor over your heart.
There are countless quotes on this topic:
“Three may keep a secret if two of them are dead.” Benjamin Franklin
“The hardest thing about keeping a secret is not telling anyone.” Anonymous
“What you don’t tell someone is just as debilitating as what you do.”
Jodi Picoult
I need to add here that there are some secrets worth keeping. Maybe you don’t want to hurt someone by exposing them. When someone wants to tell you something in confidence, something that
might hurt someone else, you have to make a decision about whether you want that responsibility. I’ve said, “Don’t tell me about it,” when it felt like it was too much for me to carry around. When someone says, “You’re the only person I’m telling this to,” I pass. I was once invited to a concert I really wanted to see, when the person who invited me said, “Don’t tell our other friends I invited you or they might get jealous.”
I declined the invitation. “As much as I’d like to go,” I said, “I might mention it by mistake since we’re all so close. But thanks for the invite.”
I try to keep my life as stress-free as possible so keeping secrets feels like a burden. It makes me remember a famous comment by Judge Judy said, “If you tell the truth, you don’t have to have a good memory.”
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