This was a really tricky challenge for me today, as I feel I’m so open on my blog that I don’t really have any secrets from you lot! Apart from the obvious, like Little M’s name, but that is something that I have consciously decided to keep private.
Not because it’s a big secret, but for her. I doubt many people actually read my blog but who knows; on the off-chance that I become an internet sensation I don’t want someone who is a stranger to her, calling her by her name. Firstly because it would be weird for her, and secondly because, as a teacher, I am acutely aware that it is a safeguarding issue. It might make my blog less warm and fuzzy and approachable, but Little M is my priority. What a shame that that’s the world we live in, hey?
So, as I was wracking my brains over a secret I could share, I thought about things I feel guilty about. There are a lot of things I feel guilty about, mainly because I have a ridiculous guilt complex and often think if someone is behaving like a total arse towards me, then it must be something I’ve done. I have to repeatedly remind myself that that person is just, in fact, an arse. I generally try to be nice so if I do upset someone it is generally unintentional. And I still apologise. Why do I do that? Why do I apologise to people when they are clearly the ones in the wrong??
Anyway, I digress… as I was pondering my ridiculous guilt complex, I thought back to a prime example from my childhood. I was at playgroup (this is the single incident I remember from this playgroup; it was clearly traumatic for me!) so must have been around three years old. We were sitting around a table eating biscuits and having a cup of milk (as you do). There were leftover biscuits on the plate, so naturally I reached for a second one. This was my crime! The playgroup leader told me off and said that I needed to ask if I wanted a second biscuit.
Now, for most children, I’m sure this would be water of a duck’s back. Not so for me. I had recurring nightmares about this incident for years afterwards. I mean years. Probably until I was about 12. I’d wake up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming sense of guilt. See what I mean about ridiculous? Crazy!
Do you have a guilty secret you’d like to share? Tell me in the comments below. Hopefully it will help me to feel less guilty…