I'm a Joiner But I Don't Think I Have a Secret Life

I'm late, I know, but last night (thanks to my friend Sean's diligent recording) I became a "Desperate Housewives" devotee. I am not sure how I managed to not see the show for so many weeks. Maybe it was because my birthday launched me into weeks of watching Angel DVDs instead of current TV? Who knows. In any case, I was such a fool not to be tuning in. This show is the perfect combination of trash and class and I can't get enough. Thank goodness there's good TV to provide an escape from everyday life.

Today, I read an article in the New York Times about how people are predisposed to having secret lives. I think you're more likely to have a secret life if you are plagued by mental anguish, but it's fairly normal. Not everyone has a secret life of drug addiction and prostitution, some just have secret credit card bills or take secret ballet lessons, but still, this secret life stuff is a little disturbing to me. Should I have one of these secret lives? Why are humans so compelled to keep things from each other? Is this a statement about marriage since most of these secrets really affect the spouse of the person more than anyone else?

The following quote is also interesting to me: "In a very deep sense, you don't have a self unless you have a secret, and we all have moments throughout our lives when we feel we're losing ourselves in our social group, or work or marriage, and it feels good to grab for a secret, or some subterfuge, to reassert our identity as somebody apart," said Dr. Daniel M. Wegner, a professor of psychology at Harvard.

OK. I am all for reasserting identity as somebody apart. That's why Neil and I don't do absolutely everything together. We do our own things, have our own lives, but not SECRET lives. I don't know if I like Dr. Wegner. What's up with him saying that unless I am keeping some secret from my loved ones, I don't have a self? Or am I keeping secrets? Is it possible that I have secrets that I don't even realize are secrets?

The characters on Desperate Housewives fit the secret life mold. I don't think there is one who is not concealing something. In that sense, I suppose we all keep certain things from certain people, but I am not yet convinced that we need secrets to define us, to make us feel whole, to give us a sense of self.

Note to self: Stop reading psychology articles in the New York Times.