Private vs. Secret

In bed with the flu this past week, I spent more time reading than I did writing, and had a chance to catch up on some blogs I'd been bookmarking. Among them is the blog many of you are likely familiar with, Breathing In, Breathing Out, which examines the role that Domestic Discipline (DD) can play in healing the after-effects of childhood abuse (sexual and otherwise).

I was particularly struck by the author's latest post, "Spanking vs. Abuse," in which she struggles to draw a distinction between "secret" and "private" with regard to her DD lifestyle, and to come to terms with how keeping the secret of DD fits in with the need to stop keeping the abusive secrets of her past.

I understand her dilemma. I also have a lot of history with secrets. They were the family speciality. Secrets about incest, abuse, affairs, alcoholism, financial scandals and white collar crime dot my family tree like sour apples rotting on the branches.

I learned how to keep secrets at a very early age -- about things that were happening to me and about things that were happening around me and everything in between.

As a child, I kept these secrets partly because I was told to and out of fear of the consequences if I didn't. But mostly, I kept them out of shame. If people found out who I "really" was, what kind of family I "really" came from, at the very least, they would stop liking me. And at worst, I'd be forcibly taken from my home and blamed by my parents for tearing the family apart and "making people think badly of us."

I've worked very hard during the last ten years to be divest myself of the role of family secret-keeper, and I've largely done it. And having worked so hard to be secret-free, the last thing I wanted to do was add a new one to my closet, or to create another significant emotional bond in which secrecy plays such a major part.

But of course, secrecy is inherent in a DD relationship. We all know far too well that it's not the kind of thing a woman can safely talk to friends, family, or for the most part, even a therapist about without risking some seriously negative reactions -- particularly in feminist/progressive circles.

The writer of the "Breathing In Breathing Out" blog suggests the answer lies in making the distinction between "private" and "secret." That perhaps DD is something that's private, but not secret.

I am struck by her way of thinking on this issue. Of course, as she herself acknowledges, it's not quite that simple.

The dictionary definitions of "private" and "secret" are virtually identical, but I would argue that "secret" often contains an element of shame that "private" does not. We may keep something private for all kinds of reasons, but most of the time, we keep something secret out of fear and shame of what others would think if they knew. To take that another step, then, one might say that we keep something private voluntarily, but we keep something secret due to social coercion -- the cost of telling is so high that it's virtually not a choice at all. Privacy is voluntary; secrecy is not.

At best, DD is a mix of privacy and secrecy. I say "at best" because for most women who practice DD (particularly feminists) the ever-present the fear of the reactions of our friends, colleagues and family makes our choice for us -- what would they think of us if they knew we submitted to spankings, corner time and other discipline by our partner for our misbehaviors?

To be clear, I don't have a need to spill the graphic details of my partner's and my DD lifestyle to our friends, family and colleagues (or for the matter, the world of cyberspace) any more than I want to gratuitously share the details of my sex or financial life or anything else that's traditionally kept "private." But I do have a problem living constantly on my guard that I might slip and say or do something that would reveal that I live this lifestyle at all and in any way.

So in spite of my best efforts, I find myself in a similar (but thankfully not identical) situation to my childhood. Keeping a secret not voluntarily, but out of fear and shame. And though without question the benefits of DD in my life are worth the price of secrecy, I still chafe at having to cover something up against my will. Again.

I write this on the day Hillary Clinton announced that she's forming an exploratory committee in preparation for a presidential bid. And I idly wonder, what if... just what if... she and Bill have a DD relationship? What she tolerates Bill's affairs primarily because the discipline she gets from being with him is what allows her to reach her goals and that's worth a little flexibility on the monogamy issue? (It likely would be to me, especially if it's Bill holding the paddle...)

What if our image of Hillary taking the oath of office were superimposed with an image of Hillary, business skirt pulled up, bottom bared and red, sobbing as she stands in the corner following a spanking from Bill for having spoken to him disrespectfully?

I'd like to think that if that (hypothetical) truth came out, we'd admire Hillary as much or perhaps more than we do already, because we'd see that she had the courage to acknowledge her deepest, most difficult-to-face needs and ask for them from her partner in the name of becoming a more complete human being.

But the truth is, of course, that virtually no one would see it that way. Her career would be over in less time that it would take to Fox News to report the story. An entire life's work, her dignity, self-respect and credibility erased with the spilling of one secret.

And so shame becomes bound up with the good, positive, life-affirming parts of DD and I find myself again in the position of childhood -- if people knew who I "really" was, what "really" went on behind the closed doors of my home, they wouldn't like me anymore. (Ironic, BTW, given that the very community that would condemn me the most is the progressive community, which prides itself on being tolerant of divergent lifestyles.)

As so often happens, I don't have a ready answer here. But I suspect the "private" vs "secret" distinction is the best solution so far -- to focus as much as possible on DD as a private matter between two consenting adults, and place less importance on the secret/shame aspect that's foisted on us by a culture that isn't broad-minded enough to recognize the benefits.