How much do you really need to know?
I still remember the day I walked into my house only to be confronted by my entire family staring at me like I was an alien as my mother shrieked through her tears, "Thank god you're home-I thought you were dead!!!"
Upon closer inspection, I noticed she was holding a familiar looking book. My journal. I was 17 and, like many teenagers, having a tough time of it. I didn't have anyone I particularly trusted to talk to about my life, so my journal was my confidant. I didn't need to filter my thoughts because a white piece of paper wasn't going to judge me or yell at me. I knew exactly what passage my mom was referring to-something I'd written about wishing I were dead. It was a fleeting thought that vanished as soon as I scribbled it down, but now my entire family had listened intently as my mother read extremely personal and excruciatingly humiliating excerpts aloud. That whole death wish I said had vanished? That cameRead More »from Dating Donâ€™ts: What Secrets Should You Reveal In A Relationship?