The Secret About Secrets: We All Have Them
And some are best left unsaid, but the trick is deciding which ones
I am preparing to go on an extended walk with a friend. We are in the dog days of summer, and the mood being what it is in July of 2024, I am thinking about topics that could be engaging and reasonably “light.”
Some topics I’ve tossed right away.
We will not discuss LeBron James and his son, Bronny, who just signed a 7.9-million-dollar contract. Was it nepotism or gratitude for the legendary dad who has given so much to the game and, more recently, to the Los Angeles Lakers? Who cares?
We will not discuss the state of academia, particularly as it relates to Ivy League institutions. Between campus riots, paid activists, and the breakdown of law, there is much to probe. It’s unclear whether universities have lost their shine for good, but the topic is dark, and I’m seeking upbeat.
Maybe due to recent politics or some news that I was recently privy to and told to keep on the “down low,” my mind has leaped to the topic of secrets.
If you’re drinking Coke while you’re reading this, you’re benefiting from one of the best-kept secrets of all time. Almost no one knows the recipe for this gazillion-dollar brand, which makes me wonder how they’ve managed to keep it under wraps.
It turns out that we all have secrets, and deciding which to reveal and which to keep undercover is a major decision that can have repercussions. On average, we carry 13 secrets at any given time, five of which we don’t share with anyone.
Studies suggest that the secrets we keep to ourselves are typically about emotional infidelity, extra-relational thoughts, romantic desires, violating trust, and outright lies. Then there are the secrets we share, which more frequently focus on finances, social discontent, ideology, mental health, and drug use.
Further research suggests that there are four categories of secrets that may be useful in evaluating whether to share or keep silent: sweet, essential, toxic, and dangerous secrets.
Sweet secrets tend to be fun surprises. Essential secrets help define boundaries, such as a family having their own private language. Toxic secrets are used to hide information that is shameful or a crime, such as having a forbidden relationship or addiction. A dangerous secret puts someone at risk, whether due to illegal activity or impaired judgment.
For obvious reasons, sweet and essential secrets are easier to share. Toxic and dangerous secrets contain risks and are challenging to manage.
Now, all this information about secrets is well and good, but how does a kept secret affect us? How might I make this suggested topic “pop” on our walk?
We begin with its universality. I’ve kept secrets, as has everyone.
Thirty-seven years ago, my husband and I got secretly engaged and didn’t tell anyone for three months. By then, we had picked out the venue, secured the date, and blocked potential interference when we shared our sweet news with our families. We knew they’d be happy, but we didn’t want to have to manage so many preferences or so long an engagement.
My closest friend in business school kept his secret that he was queer (I still prefer “gay” as a term but have been counseled by my queer nephews to use “queer” instead) for decades. This was a hard secret to keep, but times being what they were, it felt like the right decision for him until it was no longer.
Eight years ago, I wrote a book where I compiled stories in which contributors shared one important lesson from their mom. Now, secrets were not the focus at all, but in hindsight, it was inevitable that secrets would creep in when the topic was “mom.”
I learned I was naive about the nature of relationships. There were so many moments where tightly held secrets set trauma in motion and left children with a complicated legacy to work through.
One story still haunts me, which is as follows.
In 1929, a woman named Rosie married Israel, and they had two sons ten years apart. The couple was of very modest means. The younger son, Martin, who tells this story, shares how his father worked as a cutter of ladies’ clothing at the Triangle Shirtwaist Company.
Then, in 1945, his father became seriously ill. Martin remembers visits to the hospital where he would stand in the hallway and look into the ward. There, his dad would wave to him. Children were not allowed closer.
Martin’s next memory is of his mom telling him that his dad had to go to Florida for treatment. For over a period of two years, there were no letters and no calls to his dad.
Martin describes experiencing a low-level depression until he finally has the courage to ask his mom,
“Daddy is dead, isn’t he?”
Martin reveals how his mother, “in a moment of crisis,” had made two decisions that “took me at least forty years to partly undo and unlearn.” Now in his eighties, Martin has used Rosie’s lesson and its resulting pain to propel him forward.
The lesson of Rosie’s secret was not to acknowledge death and pain, thereby enabling her to do what was needed, which was to survive. From Martin’s evolving perspective, Rosie had to “get on with the business of life” and raise her two sons.
By putting on “emotional blinders,” Rosie could continue to work and support her family. Her work was tedious, hand sewing labels on men’s neckties for Macy’s, but it was enough to provide for her children. Martin still remembers running through Macy’s aisles with his mom to deliver her completed work.
While there is a dark part to the scars and legacy brought on by Rosie’s secret — depression, poor self-care, drifting into and through career, marriage, and fatherhood, as he describes it — Martin eventually finds peace and understanding.
Martin believes that Rosie taught him survival skills as he writes,
I believe Martin shared his deeply personal story so that he could officially be at peace with his mother’s secret and share it with his family. In the process, he shared it with us all.
Few secrets will have the layers and complexity of Rosie’s, but we all carry them, and we need to be conscious of what we choose to share and what we hide. Our secrets have the potential to impact future generations and are often of a nature that we can’t even admit to ourselves.
That thought takes me to George Orwell, who said of secrets in his book 1984,
“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”
Maybe “hiding” isn’t a good idea and will serve as a thought-provoking start for a good walk.
One of Coke's original ingredients is no longer part of the current formula (cocaine; hence COCA-cola). But they keep it under very tight wraps at their Atlanta headquarters. Likewise for the exact ingredients in Kentucky Fried Chicken (although Colonel Sanders obviously didn't take that secret to his grave...).