The Toxic Secrets That Almost Destroyed My Family
We kept a lot of secrets in my family growing up.
Conflict was bad; quiet meant tranquil. So instead of confronting our issues face to face, we kept them hidden from ourselves, each other, and the outside world.
Arguments between mom and dad were saved for early morning whispers while us kids slept. My father’s alcoholism bled into every facet of our family turmoil, staining all of us with trauma that we will carry with us to our grave.
But even hidden, quiet, and buried within, the secrets ate us alive.
My dad would hide his liquor. My mom would hide money, candy, and bottles of alcohol we’d receive as gifts. I started binging and purging, finding places to hide my vomit in large McDonalds cups scattered around my room. Secrets felt safe, like a weighted blanket holding me steady. They felt like home.
It all came full circle 20 years later when I started hiding my booze in my own home – just like my dad did so many years ago.
And I realized… I am starting the same damn toxic family cycle.
I am my dad.
Like a picked scab, I was starting a fresh family wound for my husband and family to carry with them.
No more. No more secrets. No more quiet at the cost of our livelihood. I must learn to speak up and stand tall, not hide in the crevices where addiction and shame bottom-feed.
Tenzin Gyatso says “dialogue is the most effective way of resolving conflict,” not burying it inside of us. Because what we bury inside becomes resentment, trauma, and secrets. And I don’t want to live in a house of secrets anymore.