My Biggest Secret


I didn’t have a full idea of what my blog would be about when I launched it, other than it would be about me— that’s why the domain is my name. I figured mostly I’d be writing about my writing. (meta, I know) My first post was a short story that I wrote a couple of years ago. I’ve written about my health, my writing influences, and random topics like television, and sports. The subjects have varied, but the common theme is me. My only real goal with the blog was to be open and honest, in the hope that it could help somebody else.

For instance, writing about the worst night of my life wasn’t easy, but I posted it for the benefit of anybody else who may find themselves in a similar situation with their health. While I have been completely honest about my health and diet, the truth is I’ve been holding something back. Maybe the biggest thing. Something crucial to my health, my writing, my career, my personal life— basically every aspect of my entire life. Something in my past, present, and future. It’s my deepest and darkest secret.

In reality, it’s not a secret at all, because anybody who knows me knows it. Heck, anybody who’s ever met me, even for just one minute, knows it without me ever telling them. They can read my secret on my face, which is blushing. And they can see it in my eyes, which refuse to make contact with theirs. And they can feel it in my hands which are sweating and fidgeting. And they can see it in my mouth, which is closed and not speaking to them.

I have social anxiety.

There. I said it. Now my worst kept secret is a secret no more.

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