I am 33, with a degree in psychology. My experience, however, isn't limited to what I learned in school. I have been independently studying psychology & dreams since I was 13.

Though I AM NOT CURRENTLY A PRACTICING PSYCHOLOGIST, I wanted to do this blog because I believe that I have life experience that people can relate to and thought maybe it could help. So, please feel free to share your stories because secrets give our problems power
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Talking about marriage, along with compromise, honesty is by far one of the most important factors to a successful relationship. I've been thinking about honesty a lot lately in trying to analyze myself and what's important to me. Honesty has, in my adult life, been of the utmost importance to me. When I was a kid, I lied alot, but every night I would come and confess these lies along with whatever else I felt bad about to my mom.

I wondered for a long time why I did that because my family wasn't Catholic, not even religious really. Then, pretty recently, I was talking to my therapist about it and she linked it to my OCD by saying that confessing made me feel clean. I need to feel clean, that's big for me and so for her to link that together just made so much sense.

Now, I know what you're thinking, you hear clean and you think I feel dirty therefore I was probably sexually assaulted. This is not the case. If it were, I would admit to it. I might as well, I'm admitting to everything else. My OCD, in general, isn't something I share with a lot of people.

I don't know where this idea of dirty/clean came from and why it plays such a role in my life. I do, however, know that honesty was something my mom put a lot of value on. If you were dishonest she would be disappointed and I never wanted my parents to be disappointed in me. I think this was because they fought alot and I always, to this day, think I caused a lot of it. It's crazy to me that I still think that because I know better, but that kid inside me still doesn't.

To be disappointing, to be a problem, in our already chaotic life was something I tried so hard to avoid. I wanted to be good and I think I was a good kid, comparatively. Oddly enough the good kid never gets the attention, not with a troubled rebel as a sibling. I understand it, why my sister acted out, why my parents had to give her more attention, why the good kid gets pushed to the background, and yet it still sucks.

Life is so much about those realizations that life just isn't fair.

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