For some inexplicable reason, I seem to be easy to share secrets with. That's not really a bad thing- unless it creates the following situation:
Person A tells me something. It's extremely personal and incriminating. It could potentially cause big problems in their life if it got out.
So I sit on the info. And never share it- with anyone. Because they trusted me.
Then they decide that I'm some kind of threat- because I know. Even if I didn't do anything about it. I still know. Because they fucking told me. At this point, if the power structure in the relationship (and every relationship has one, don't fool yourself) is slightly or more skewed in their favor, I'm fucked. Because they fucking told me.
It's total shit, I tells ye.
So what's a good girl to do? Well I've started doing the following. If I see it coming- and by this time, I can usually spot those kinds of things before they get all the way out- I try to spin the conversation somewhere else. Quickly. If that doesn't work, and if they have the focus of a bloody chess master, and NEED to divulge, I try to keep it light- offer no advice, and get out of there as soon as possible. Then I watch carefully. Very, very carefully. And put up as many boundaries as possible.
For some reason, they are almost always at work. And for some reason, I get to be the one. The treasure chest of secrets. And there are some unbelievable ones in there. I wish I was a total bastard and could write a book that included them all in code. Because it would be fun, in a way. To unburden myself of all of these parasitic little worms in my brain. Because never forget, I have plenty of my own secrets. And I'm NOT telling.
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5 comments:
i have the same problem.
only, i have the ammo--not them.
suckers!
(secret: i actually do not listen to them...i just nod and scratch at my chin and from time to time I mutter: "is that right?!")
suckers!
I lack your fortitude. I get sucked in. And get nailed for it later.
Which reminds me, you didn't tell that one guy that thing I told you never to repeat that one time about that "incident" of which we don't speak of did you?
God I hope not, or you know who would be pissed!
:)
OK, here's what I do. I got myself a theology degree for $29.95 from the Universal Life Church. I tell people I am the High Priest of the Gooey Death and Discount Warehouse Price Club of Eternity. I tell them they can expect the absolute confidentiality of the priestly confessional; and that if I did tell on them, my hair would catch fire and I would urinate all over everyone within 15 feet.
That usually works. No one wants their dirty linen told to people who were just peed on.
Now see, that's creative. And smarter than being the nice little sucker that I am- because you at least create boundaries. Or would it be more of a perimeter?
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