Early in recovery, I learned the critical importance of exposing my secrets.
My first attempt at sobriety as a teenager didn’t result in long-term recovery.
The reason why: I kept a secret about myself, which created a deep sense of loneliness, and I never learned the power of rigorous honesty.
The result: I relapsed and drank for another 7 years before finding sobriety again.
These were not secrets that others had asked me to keep or government secrets I was tasked with holding. The kind of secrets I’m talking about were things about myself I’d just never told anyone. Things I was embarrassed about or ashamed of. Really, if anything, I was afraid for someone else to find out about me. And the reason I was afraid was because I thought you might not like or respect me if you knew these things.
But as part of working through the 12 steps, I learned to shine a light on all these secrets despite my fear of being abandoned. Lo and behold, I was not left all alone. As a matter of fact, the fear lost its grip on me. I was no longer ashamed or embarrassed. There was no secret anymore.
While this lesson first showed up in my recovery and is an extreme example, I’ve since realized it applies to nearly everyone—especially those in leadership.
These days, I work with a lot of founders and CEOs, and one of the more common things I hear from them is that it’s a lonely position. And having been in that role myself, I can attest to this. Regardless of how hard you try to make your employees and team members your “friends,” it usually never feels totally safe to share everything. And our significant others don’t always want to hear our work stuff, which can leave us with no one to talk to - so we get used to keeping everything to ourselves, which is why many of us seek a coaching relationship.
But look, we all come by this fear honestly. It’s an incredibly natural part of the human experience.
Fear of abandonment is a common emotional experience. In the tribal context we all originate from, it is the primal fear of being left alone or excluded from the group, which in ancestral times could have meant a significantly reduced chance of survival, as humans are naturally social creatures who rely on the community for protection and support.
Our lives literally depended on being accepted by the tribe, so it's no wonder we still tend to want to keep our cards close to the chest.
Getting honest about something you’re ashamed or embarrassed about can feel incredibly difficult. You feel like your whole world would come apart if anyone knew how you really felt. But the reality is that your secret is almost certainly not unique. Millions of other humans have had the same secret and the same fear.
The practice of confession has been around for thousands of years, not because it ensures your admission into heaven but because to hold on to all your secrets in this life can be a kind of hell. Like many religious practices, you can see where this one started off as a good idea and was turned into just another rule to follow, which denied us the wholesome benefit of being heard in a safe space.
Time and time again, I’ll admit something I’m afraid to admit, and the other person listening to me will say, “Oh yeah man, me too. I’ve felt that way plenty of times.”
The relief of being heard in a safe place and having someone relate to your experience or feelings is possibly one of the most healing experiences we have available to us. It is the foundation of all therapy, 12-step programs, and the entire coaching industry, not to mention friendships, marriages, and other close relationships.
Learning to let others know us, not the version we want to portray in public, but the real version, is scary, cathartic, and ultimately freeing in a way that nothing else is.
Fear is a boogeyman. The moment you let someone truly see you, it vanishes—leaving behind a relief and peace you didn’t know you needed.
If you realize you’re afraid to let anyone truly know you, it’s time to practice getting real. Start with someone you trust—a partner, best friend, or parent—or, if that doesn’t feel safe, hire a pro—a therapist, coach, dharma teacher, or priest.
The important part is to start.