If you are keeping secrets, you are not truly in the relationship, since you are choosing to keep parts of yourself off limits, and are not trusting the other person the chance to accept you as you are. It can work on some levels, as in you don't let your employer or some peripheral person know stuff. It MIGHT be that if your boss knew you were a (insert secret here) that the two of you would become best friends and your life would be enhanced forever. OTOH, it might just get you fired and you might choose not to take that risk because you need the job. But if you keep bits back from everyone, you will end up sad and lonely.
Well, there are some things you just don't tell some people. For instance, hypothetically speaking, my friends might know that I periodically like to smoke a joint now and then, but (Constitutional privacy protection notwithstanding -- I'm Canadian), I'd rather my employer not know. Similarly, I'm not going to let my parents in on the details of my sex life. It'd probably disgust and appall them, and, quite frankly, they don't need to know. That's not a way to become sad and lonely; that's a survival trait.
I'm quite sure that there's several things I've never seen fit to tell anyone else. Then again, I'm not exactly the sharing type at times, and I don't trust anyone else with my core identity, thank you very much. As far as I'm concerned, this has nothing whatsoever to do with "being truly in a relationship," whatever that means, since I'm not even sure it's possible for one person to know everything about another anyway... Nor, given the boring minutiae people tend to accumulate, would you want to.
I'm not quite sure how I feel about secrecy in government. I can certainly see strategic uses for secrecy, as in intelligence, but the flip side of that has to be accountability, of which there's perishin' little in any of our governments these days. (That said, if Americans really knew what their government was up to all the time, there'd be riots...and a vast crowd of Don't-Give-A-Shits standing on their front lawns scratching their heads...)
Not telling your employer you smoke dope is exactly the type of thing I find appropriate. Or telling your kid's teacher, or your next door neighbor you don't really know. And there is a difference between not discussing something, such as your sex life with your parents or the details of what you ate for lunch today with someone who doesn't really care, and keeping a secret. That's more like not telling the folks your lovers beats you and lying about where you got the bruises.
I do trust my husband with my core identity. It took years of "will he still love me if he knows I did this once or feel this right now" but now that level of comfort is the standard against which I judge other relationships. Basically, the more I feel I need to hold back something, the less authentic I feel I am being in that situation and the less I like it.
(no subject)
I dissent!
I'm quite sure that there's several things I've never seen fit to tell anyone else. Then again, I'm not exactly the sharing type at times, and I don't trust anyone else with my core identity, thank you very much. As far as I'm concerned, this has nothing whatsoever to do with "being truly in a relationship," whatever that means, since I'm not even sure it's possible for one person to know everything about another anyway... Nor, given the boring minutiae people tend to accumulate, would you want to.
I'm not quite sure how I feel about secrecy in government. I can certainly see strategic uses for secrecy, as in intelligence, but the flip side of that has to be accountability, of which there's perishin' little in any of our governments these days. (That said, if Americans really knew what their government was up to all the time, there'd be riots...and a vast crowd of Don't-Give-A-Shits standing on their front lawns scratching their heads...)
Re: I dissent!
I do trust my husband with my core identity. It took years of "will he still love me if he knows I did this once or feel this right now" but now that level of comfort is the standard against which I judge other relationships. Basically, the more I feel I need to hold back something, the less authentic I feel I am being in that situation and the less I like it.