I sent my first secret to PostSecret. Finally.
It was last Thursday and I’ve been pondering it’s sending for almost a full week now, hoping to find words to describe what it feels like to write down a deeply personal thought of mine and, without hiding parts of it, slip it into a mailbox for the world to discover. All I’ve been able to come with is that it was a little nerve-racking, a little intimidating and one of the best things I’ve done for myself in a long, long time. The moment I slipped that postcard into the mailbox, I felt lighter, better, relieved and different.
I smiled the whole drive home, pleased with myself because I FINALLY took the time to define the problem, the hurt, the ache, the SECRET in just a few words. Before that it was always this looming ache that I couldn’t abbreviate. It took up so much space in my thoughts that I always seemed to come back to it. Now that it’s gone, now that I realize in spite of it I’m still okay, I can breathe.
Oddly enough, I don’t have any real desire to see my secret again. I always thought, in the process of thinking about my secrets, that I would want to see my secret posted on the website, or at an exhibit or in a book, but now, not so much. I’m content knowing that somewhere along its journey from Richmond, Virginia to Germantown, Maryland, someone saw it. And, as it turns out, that’s all I really needed.