Updated: April 1, 2020
Originally Published: March 28, 2016
I am the quintessential TMI enthusiast. I have been known to strike up lengthy discussions about parenting with strangers in grocery store lines and reveal personal anecdotes far too soon in budding friendships.
Unsurprisingly, this trait hasn’t always worked in my favor. There have been moments when light social interactions turned awkward, and times when I confided in people I thought were friends, only to realize they weren’t deserving of my trust. Let’s just say my partner isn’t overly thrilled about it either. Recently, at an event for our kids, someone approached him and said, “I hear you have a lot of mismatched socks.”
“What do you tell people, Jessica?” he asked me later. “It’s like you’re literally airing our dirty laundry!”
The most significant fallout, however, is what I like to call a “vulnerability hangover.” This term, coined by author and researcher Brené Brown, perfectly encapsulates the shame and discomfort that can follow an episode of oversharing. Just like a real hangover, they’re quite unpleasant.
After an instance of TMI leaves me feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck, I promise to change my behavior. Next time, I vow to hold back on sharing how I accidentally gave my son a tiny bruise while teaching him to ride a bike. I swear I will!
But then I come to a realization. As painful as these vulnerability hangovers can be, I regret the things I haven’t said even more. I regret not telling my sister how much I admire her during a family gathering. Tragically, she passed away a few months later.
I also wish I had expressed to my former students how they impacted my life, teaching me invaluable lessons that I could never repay. I often wonder where they all are now. And especially now that my child is transitioning into middle school, I regret not defending the kid who was bullied in seventh grade.
So, maybe the next time I chat with someone in the beauty aisle at Target, I won’t hold back about how challenging it is to keep my hair looking decent or how tough it is to chase my dreams.
Or maybe I will. Perhaps that stranger will give me an odd look and quickly move on in search of shampoo. Or maybe they will smile, and later tell someone, “I met a woman today who understands what I’m going through. It’s reassuring to know I’m not alone.”
Because sometimes, those little hangovers are worth it. If you’re curious about more on this topic, check out this blog post for more insights. Additionally, if you’re looking into ways to conceive at home, an excellent resource is here, where you can find comprehensive information about artificial insemination.
Summary
Jessica shares her experiences as an oversharer, reflecting on the vulnerability that comes with revealing too much too soon. Despite the discomfort that follows, she finds value in connections formed through openness. She emphasizes the importance of speaking up and cherishing relationships, even in casual encounters.