(Trigger Warning – Sex, Lies, and Substance Abuse)

Originally Published June 14, 2023

“You’re Only As Sick As Your Secrets”

It’s April 2017, and I am visiting my family in Iron Mountain, Michigan. This is a special trip for me because I am introducing my serious boyfriend to all of my cousins and siblings. As usual, I am deeply in love and want to spend the rest of my life with this Vietnamese man.

As we are all sitting around the table having snacks and drinks, my giggly cousin asks my new guy questions. Next thing I know, she asks, “So, have you ever been married before?” He looks around the table and answers, “Actually, yes. I still am.” My jaw drops, and I storm outside. What the actual fuck… I light a cigarette and can’t believe I am again in this predicament.

I have a horrible track record of dating men who love to keep huge secrets from me. When I see red flags, I move closer, not away. During the past decade, they have lied to me about all sorts of things – Being married, having children, being engaged, cheating, drug and alcohol problems, and getting other women pregnant while we were dating.

My commitment issues came from me watching my parent’s dysfunctional marriage. I never saw them hug, kiss, or sleep in the same bed. The situation fucked me up in the head and caused me to be terrified of long-term relationships and marriage. I got addicted to the games and the rush of going for men I couldn’t have, whether it be because they were hardcore religious or already taken.

My mental instability also caused me to fall deeply in love hard and fast. It was always like, Surprise! I’m in love again. I had 15 serious relationships with men from all over the world. They spoke different languages and had fascinating cultures, unique gods, great food, and special secrets.

My high energy and willingness to do dangerous things intrigued these random men. They were never bored with my three alternating personalities – Manic, Depressed, and Sober Health Nut. When I was manic, I loved drinking, smoking cigarettes, having crazy sex, and being out in public.

Then, when I got depressed, I acted needy and desperate for men’s attention. I loved smoking pot, taking sedatives, stuffing my face with shitty food, and sleeping my life away.

Next came the sober fitness nut that refused to put anything bad in her body. During these moods, I was dogmatic, judgemental, and annoying online. It has definitely been confusing but never dull for my many lovers.

Men kept a lot of secrets from me, but I also kept secrets from them as well. During my junior year of college, I went to PCB for 5 days without my boyfriend for spring break. I got so blackout drunk that I barely remember the trip. I hooked up with at least 6 dudes and ran around the resort screaming, “Show me your tits!” I was the queen of taking things too far, especially on holidays and vacations.

When I got back from the trip, I had alcohol poisoning and had to break up with my sweet boyfriend. I never told him what I did. I just said I couldn’t be with him anymore. On the bus ride back from his house, I met a 20-year-old guy from Alabama. We only talked for 30 minutes when my manic ass invited him to move into my one-bedroom apartment. It went well for about 2 days, and then I had to make a plan to get rid of him. I was a drunk mess.

There were lots of other little secrets I kept from the world. In my early 20s, I went to country USA, and when I was fucked up on Adderall and alcohol, I got my right nipple pierced. My girlfriends and I flashed oncoming traffic with our new bling rings to get rides to the music festival. A year later, I had my friend’s boyfriend cut it off with wire cutters because it was crooked as hell.

There was also that time when I was 22 and went on a group camping trip to Wisconsin Dells. I was so smashed I got kicked out of the resort for fucking in a porta-potty. Then, at the age of 26, I made my innocent boyfriend get a matching soulmate tattoo with me; I said we would be together forever… Then dumped him.

When I was 23, I got drunk as fuck in Mexico and went paddle boarding and almost died when a colossal wave rocked the beach. 3 Mexicans had to rush into the water and pull me out. Muchas gracias!

The more I drank, the more sex I had, and the more secrets I kept. For most of my teenage and adult life, I tried to maintain this calm, carefree, slutty persona – But the truth is, I had my heart broken at 17 years old, and it majorly fucked me up in the head.

The breakup went like this. We had an excellent relationship, and I broke up with him because I had a crush on another guy. Three months after I dumped him, I regretted it and wanted to give it another chance. I thought it was going to work, but I was wrong. We started hooking up again, and he even threw me a birthday party on the lake. I was so wasted on his boat that I didn’t even remember him breaking it off with me. The following day, as he was driving me home, he yelled, “I know you don’t remember what happened last night, but I dumped you. You broke my heart, and I could never be with you or trust you again!”

I was beyond crushed. The next day at school, I looked at my best friend and said, “I never want to be in a serious relationship again. No more loving, only fucking from now on.” And that is precisely what I did from 17 to 32. I learned the hard way that heartbreak can be a significant catalyst for inner pain and self-destructive behavior.

During my life, I hooked up with all sorts of people – Addicts, bed wetters, circus performers, doctors, lawyers, athletes, foreign men that spoke zero English, singers, gay men, mothers, fathers, grandfathers, trans people, and gang members. I also took virginities and entertained men’s crazy fetishes. Some of the weirdest ones were – cumming in my eyeballs, dressing as a street hooker, jizzing on my feet, and being tied up in dungeons dressed in bondage. I even slept with guys I felt terrible for and gave out a few pity fucks a year. I felt like having sex with lonely men made the world a safer place.

The root of my hypersexuality was caused by bipolar disorder and odd experiences I had as a child. When I was around 7 years old, my parents had family and friends from out of town stay with us. On multiple occasions, their 10-year-old daughter would bring me into the basement and force me to play house. She would say that she was the dad and I was the mom. She would make me take off all of my clothes and kiss her with her tongue. She would then touch my chest and vagina.

On one of the visits, my mom had a weird feeling and snuck down into the basement. She listened, ran into the room, and screamed for us to stop. My lips were chapped, and I was very confused about the difference between right and wrong. My parents never allowed that girl to visit our house again.

By the time I was 11, I was eager to experiment with boys. I kissed them, showed them my body, touched them, and let them touch me. At 12, I had my first full-blown make-out with a boy in my class. I was with friends sitting in my dad’s hunting shack when we started French kissing. I didn’t know what to do or how to do it, but I knew I wasn’t very good at it.

The following week at school, the girls in the grade above me spread rumors that I was a dog kisser. I was already self-conscious about my body and my braces, so this was highly embarrassing. But instead of stopping the kissing and sexual activity, I made it my goal to hook up with as many boys as I could so I could become good at sex. Practice makes perfect.

If I had never drank alcohol, I would have only slept with around 30 dudes. Instead, I slept with 300. I faked everything and barely remember the hundreds of partners I fucked. I just had my first orgasm from intercourse last year! But in my mind, I would rather love than never love at all, even if it was just for a night, a week, or a month.

I always confused lust for love because, deep down, all I wanted was to be loved. I forced everything on everyone, and it never worked out in the long run. I realized that the secret to long-lasting relationships is that I needed to love myself fully before I could ever truly love someone else.

Most of my issues came from my lack of impulse control. That part of my brain has been turned off since childhood. I overdid everything. Exercise, drinking, fucking, smoking, texting, and medicating.

From a young age, it was clear that I had no boundary-setting abilities. I used to be so unconscious and impulsive that I didn’t realize how many things I was doing that damaged my body and brain.

For years, I drowned myself in alcohol, energy drinks, and diet soda. Then, I would swallow my antidepressants, mood stabilizers, antipsychotics, and benzos and eat ibuprofen like candy. I was ruining my mental health, organs, and stomach lining. Some nights, I didn’t even know if I would wake up in the morning. During my darkest times, I hoped that I wouldn’t.

I also had very unhealthy and toxic relationships with friends and family. I overloaded them with messages, calls, pictures, and emails because I desperately needed professional help. The more pills I took for bipolar disorder, the less aware and conscious I was of my behavior. I could barely drive, work, or even have clear conversations. I spent years overmedicating and wanting to disappear.

I hated being alone with my thoughts and couldn’t handle being sober and quiet. So I kept my life as loud as possible – The more drinking I did, the more drama there was. I jumped from guy to guy, then dumped one dude and fucked another one the same night. I slept with friend’s boyfriends, fucked married men, young dudes, old dudes, and hooked up with my bosses. Essentially, I was addicted to chaos because I couldn’t live with the person I was becoming. On the inside, I was empty as hell and slowly rotting away.

How I never got pregnant or a permanent STD blows my mind. But I did get chlamydia a couple of times. I will never forget having to text five guys on my bedazzled flip phone at 17 years old. I was sweating as I used T9 to type out, “You need to go get tested. I have chlamydia.” But it takes two to tango, and condoms are always a smart and sexy choice!

During my hookups, men confessed their deepest secrets to me. I have a way of making people feel comfortable, and they in turn share things with me. This also happened during the ten thousand Lyft and Uber rides I gave. Oftentimes, I felt like a priest at church during confession. So, not only was I holding all my own secrets, but I was also holding hundreds of other people’s secrets. It slowly started to make me sick.

For years, I tried to fit myself into a box so I could get specific jobs, go to exclusive parties, and date shallow men. I lied to bosses, teachers, classmates, and coworkers. I lied on resumes, dating apps, and job applications. After college, I got addicted to starting over and began running around the country like I was on drugs. But really, I was just scared, hurt, and going through bipolar swings. I continued to be thrown into deep depression because of all the lying and destructive habits I had. The more secrets I kept, the more sick I got.

Finally, I got tired of keeping secrets and started telling the truth. Slowly, I stopped lying to my doctors about how much I was drinking and smoking. I stopped lying to my friends about how dangerous my lifestyle was. And I stopped lying to my family about my mental instability and substance abuse.

I realized that living a lie kills you. It kills your confidence, mental health, and internal compass. Healing starts by telling the truth. I am no longer forcing; I am finally flowing. It feels so good to be living an honest life now. The more I tell the truth, the more peaceful I feel. Being radically honest saved my life.

The biggest thing I learned from all these experiences is that there is no quick fix or easy way to transform your life. It takes difficult realizations, many little steps, and a ton of time to develop a life you are satisfied with. The most powerful mantra for me is, “I forgive myself.” I say it over and over. “I forgive myself. I forgive myself. I forgive myself!” Forgiveness heals you and allows you to move forward with your life.

Are you ready to get radically honest?

It’s time to forgive yourself and move forward. You deserve a great life!!

Love You