Is it possible to not be anonymous and share complete honesty, even when it's ugly?
Yes. It's possible when you're aging rock star and your drug-induced, alcoholic, sex-filled past is testament to the fact that you are a rock 'n' roll legend. You're probably the producer of your autobiographical movie. Good for you.
No. It's not possible when you're an average woman living an un-rock 'n' roll life with supportive family and friends, and your biggest complaint is that you have eczema.
I know, I know(and you know), there are so many much worse things that could be wrong in life. I know I should just deal with it and count my blessings. Besides, it's on the inside that counts anyway.
But. Let's be honest for one, hot minute shall we? How many times has your public face acted like nothing was wrong? Meanwhile, your private face is paranoid that Bobby or Patsy is staring at your red scaly face (or whatever body part) and silently going, "EWWW. That better not be friggin' contagious cuz I do not want that!" No one wants to be ewww'ed right? And, you just keep on movin' through the day pretending to yourself that you're brave and not shallow enough to be worried about a stupid skin condition. Really??
No one, but me and this laptop, know what the real truth is. The real truth is there have been times when I stared at my naked image in the mirror and ewww'ed myself silently, but loudly in my head. But it's just eczema. There have been times when I have cried alone so hard. But it's just eczema.
There was a time I desperately wanted to back out of being my best friend, Lisa's bridesmaid, because I was so ashamed. But it's just eczema. How could she understand the shame I felt? The shame in seriously considering backing out and the shame of being ashamed? So what did I do? I put on my public face and sprinted as fast as one could possibly go during the wedding march, down the church aisle, in my hated strapless dress, pretending nothing was wrong and that no one was staring and wondering.
My public face is a big, fat liar. She's a lovely girl. After all, I was taught manners, tact, and selflessness. You know, do unto others and that whole thing.
My private, anonymous face is a bold, sometimes ugly, but completely honest. Her story (the entire truth about how I feel) needs to be vomited up, like getting rancid meat out of my system. As you know, vomit is not pretty to look at, nor does it smell to great. But, it does make you feel so much better after you get it out of your system.