Sharing Intimate Details Feels Like a Personal Attack

On myself.

Emily Ann Mark


Photo by Larm Rmah on Unsplash

Sharing life experiences on this platform cracks open the conversations with others. Others who have also had the same experience. Or can relate. Or sympathize. Or just simply acknowledge your existence.

My problems and dilemmas are not unique.

I am not the only one nor will ever be the only one that goes through them. The stubborn side of me doesn’t want to ask for help or admit that I could use a listening ear.

The stubborn side of me will pretend I’m ok when inside I’m crying a good cry.

We don’t know what someone is going through. And how our story can impact another person. I am in awe when I witness someone’s bravery by wearing their heart on their sleeve.

But when it comes to me; I don’t feel as brave as I’d like to be.

Sharing intimate details feels like a personal attack — on myself. I’m exposing and airing out my own dirty laundry.

But is it really that big of a deal?

There’s a group of people who really don’t care and will scroll away.

There’s a group of people who do care and support you.

Then there’s a group of people who will judge and criticize.

But out of those three groups, whose opinion matters the most?


In my first year of writing on this platform, I wore my heart on my sleeve proudly. It came easy and naturally. Own it. That was my mantra.

Own your story. Own your mistakes. Talk that talk and walk that walk.

But somewhere along the way, I lost my voice among intimidation, doubts, and fears. Concerned with what my readers, friends, and family would think as I pulled back the veil, I reverted into my little box.

And lost the spark I began with when I lit the match to burn the bridge. The bridge of no return.

Our messy experiences are valuable because it’s the human experience. I’m a little OCD and a hardcore perfectionist. But I’m also learning to…



Emily Ann Mark

My stories. My life. Some sad. Some happy. A mixture of in between. Divorce, love, failures, & success. Come join me.