Hmm, I’m not sure I have anything witty/funny/amusing/non-baby related to say today, but I don’t want to leave my many, many loyal readers dangling with just one post this week. So today, I will make a confession. This blog is super-duper top secret. Only two people in my real life know about it, and neither of them is my husband.
Yes, I am one of those assholes who keeps secrets from her husband. I always thought that people who lied to their husbands, either directly or through omission, had crappy relationships and were kind of stupid. I still think women who shop more than they know their husbands would like then play shell games with the family finances or hide their purchases are annoying stereotypes. Plus living in fear of getting caught doing that shit is no way to live.
Of course, I can say that knowing that 1. I do not have a crazy expensive shopping habit and 2. Miguel has never shown much interest in my shopping sprees; in fact, he gets annoyed when I come home and regale him with my bargain shopping skillz. I think he thinks I’m trying to justify my purchases to him, which he doesn’t see as necessary…really I am just showing off and want some validation that I am indeed a super shopper.
There are some other lies and half truths in your relationships-what you’re doing when you’re apart, who you’re with, where you are going-that are all no-no’s as far as I’m concerned. Even if you know what you’re doing is completely innocent but your husband is just overprotective/jealous/possessive/what have you, that is a problem right there in your relationship that needs to be addressed. The golden rule applies here; if you wouldn’t like to find out your husband failed to mention he had lunch with an old girlfriend, then you shouldn’t be pulling it either. Even if you know that something is going to cause friction, you should either be able to come to an agreement about it, or respect the other’s feelings and compromise.
All that said, after 5 years of marriage, I have come to value the peace keeping that a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy can sometimes bring. Take the blog for instance. Miguel does not get personal journaling/blogs. He doesn’t read them, does not see the value in them to the reader or the blogger. What can I say? He is a man’s man, he doesn’t admit to having feelings when he can help it, he certainly doesn’t understand anyone else’s need to get their feelings out, share them, get feedback on them, etc.
At the same time, he’s also old-fashioned and highly image conscious professionally, and places a high amount of value on projecting the right persona for career-advancement. Airing one’s dirty laundry on the internets where anyone might see it is completely counter to this mission.
This old-fashioned attitude also extends to conducting personal business at work; at the office, one should never admit to having a personal life, let alone try to manage it during business hours. He is lucky that he has a personal assistant (me) who happily manages his shit for him from her work, because sometimes, you just have to make calls, send e-mails, and run errands during business hours. He is always making fun of me for doing things like checking the bank balance from work, etc., even though my company’s extremely liberal media use policy openly acknowledges that personal business may need to be conducted on work hours using the company’s phone, internet and e-mail. Basically all they ask is that it not be egregious to the point of interfering with work and obviously that it not be pornographic or otherwise inappropriate. Miguel would not visit a non-work related website from the office if you put a gun to his head.
All this to come to shameful admission number two in this post…I write most of my posts from work, another aspect of this whole blog business of which Miguel would whole-heartedly disapprove. If I didn’t, well, then I just wouldn’t have a blog. After spending nine hours a day at the computer (I rarely leave for lunch), it is at the bottom of my list to go sit in front of the computer some more after work hours. I have errands to run, a gym to get to (sporadically), dinner to be made, a dog to be walked, books to read, and a DVR crammed full of garbage TV to watch, etc.
And finally, the last reason to keep this blog a secret from Miguel, and in fact most of the people in my real life, is that I want to be able to write candidly without censoring. If I want to vent, I want to be able to do it without worrying that the object of the venting will read it and get his/her feelings hurt. If I want to share things that Miguel would deem too personal for public consumption, like our fertility struggles, then I want that freedom.
I’m not a complete idiot; I do make an effort to avoid any references that would make me identifiable or allow people to trace this blog back to the real life me. I don’t give my real name, or Miguel’s, I don’t even use my dog’s name! You will never see me make more than vague mention of where I work or live, or post any pictures of people. I do limit any references to my work or professional life in case this should happen to come to the attention of the powers that be; they will never have the option of saying I disparaged the company in any way through my blogging (unless bitching about the bathrooms counts!).
I don’t know, I’m not completely web-tech savvy, so I guess it’s possible that someone could out me if they really tried. I built this under my real e-mail address, though I don’t post it anywhere on the site, so maybe in secret code somewhere the two are linked. I’ve tried googling my e-mail address and don’t get any cross over, so I’m assuming I’m safe from basic-cross contamination.
So anyway, now that I’ve been doing this for close to a year (holy crap!) I’m kind of stuck. If I tell Miguel about it now, he will want to see it, and be pissed that I somehow never mentioned it in 10 months. If I do continue to keep it a secret, I will always have it in the back of my mind that he could find out some other way, and be even more pissed. See, this is why secrets in relationship are bad, m’kay.