Last week a friend came to me with a funny question about relationships. The question itself wasn’t that funny, but the fact that she was coming to me for advice was hilarious!
She asked me, “Sarah, when is it the right time to spill the beans?”
I said, “It’s never a good time to spill anything!”
Okay. That’s not what really happened.
She actually said, “Sarah, when is it the right time to spill the beans?”
And I said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Okay. So, neither of those conversations actually happened.
What I’m actually getting at is the question we face in the midst of a new relationship: When to- DUH-duh-duhhhh! – spill the beans? Because those sad truths you’ve been hiding in your emotional underwear drawer need to be revealed at some point. It’s inevitable. But when is it the right time to tell your partner all of the things you’ve been working so hard to protect, or work through… or disguise completely and lie about a lot?
Well, for me, it’s when someone I’m dating says, “I feel like I don’t even know you!” OR, “I know you’re hiding something from me!”
This is when I know I have to either break up with them OR tell them all of the crap that would have initially sent them running for dear life (or calling the police). But when I’ve decided to take that big step and get it all out there- well, that’s when my irrational thoughts and fears plan a Meetup to have a party in my head…
I bet they’re thinking about how secretly crazy I must be… and how people never change…. how they always fall for crazy bitches… how they wished they’d eaten before they came over…
When I’m sure all they’re actually thinking is:
Whatever. As long as she sucks my dick.
Or something comparable if, you know, if they don’t have a dick. Or don’t wear one. Let’s just say I’ve had some experience in the field of unleashing my Emotional Beasts of Christmas Past (and it always ends with me sucking dick! kidding!). Over the years I’ve gotten a variety of reactions to my beans:
∙ the completely dismissive prick: “Whatever… You seem fine to me.”
∙ the naive and noodley man-boy: “Wow, I’ve never been to a shrink…”
∙ the obsessively sympathetic nutcase: “Oh my GOD. I can’t believe it. How do you deal with it? Are you okay? How do you go on? What can I do? Is there anything I can do? I am NEVER LETTING THIS GO.”
∙ the confused and bewildered cad: the guy who obviously didn’t think things had gotten serious enough to warrant my revealing important things about myself AKA the person I will never hear from again who now knows all of my dirty little secrets. PERFECT.
I know this is something I’ve thought about every time I’ve dated someone, no matter how brief. It’s a thought of potential. Is it a female thing? Maybe. I mean, I can’t recall ever being the recipient of such touchy high profile information from a man. Looking back I can’t think of a single time when a guy was all, “There’s something you need to know about me…“ other than the unfortunate times when it was prefaced by things like,
“I don’t date sluts.”
Or, “I’m married.”
Or, “I hate you.”
Or, “Is that my Little League Trading Card in your wallet? Why do you have that? How did you get that, and WHO ARE YOU?!”
Men have no secrets too, right? I mean, none that I can specifically recall. Nothing. No traumatic events from the past that have festered and evolved into powerful and highly personal clumps of information that only a select few have been lucky (or unlucky) enough to hear about in great detail. These clumps are also known as BAGGAGE, ladies. But men don’t have baggage. Because men aren’t maniacs? Because men aren’t women. Got it.
I mean, I can only recall one time when I was subject to a sensitive “sit down” with a guy I was dating. And it went something like this:
“Sarah, there’s something you need to know about me… See, I used to think about my sister when I jerked off. I’ve never been able to tell a girl about this before.”
Whoa! Yeah, that was a smart move not telling anyone. You should have stuck with that plan. Keep it to yourself, buddy! How exactly does someone revealing expired and creepy childhood sexual fantasies involving their siblings serve as an acceptable conduit to a more intimate connection with someone they’re screwing? Yeah, EXACTLY. It doesn’t. It is, however, the perfect way to deter a woman from EVER WANTING TO HAVE SEX WITH THAT GUY AGAIN. It’s also a great reason for making up excuses to avoid having sex with them or see them EVER, i.e. working 70-80 hours a week and having a month-long period, until I’ve found the balls (by getting belligerently drunk) or have procured another less obvious excuse for throwing the weirdo to the curb.
Anyway, my advice would be to control your need to spill the beans until the time truly feels right. And that might be never!