You can’t trust me.


Maybe you knew it already and didn’t want to think it. Or maybe it hasn’t been particularly relevant so you never thought about it at all.

If you want something private. Completely private then don’t tell me. You probably shouldn’t tell anyone in that scenario, but for sure don’t tell me.

I don’t do proprietary. I can try to, and lots of times I can succeed, but sometimes by accident or by plan your information will come out. And I will bear the consequences of that. The consequence of fewer confidences, and less intimate friendships.

It has been a long time since I uttered the phrase,” don’t tell her I told you”. If I tell you, I tell her I told you. And I will probably have less to tell you next time. Because she doesn’t tell me things anymore.

Which is probably better.

Because she can’t trust me.

As I type this I feel so sad, a small scale whistle blower. She thinks its rationalization and hubris that made me tell all. The hubris, yes. I think it is my business. Once I know it is my business. Thats why the bystander law was not written for me. Did I know I was putting our entire relationship at risk. Yes.  The rationalization, maybe. She offers me an escape valve. Can I promise not to do it again? No.

I can’t, it seems, even promise not to blog about it.

More specifically, if I were to go back in time I would still tell. Now that I have the benefit of seeing how things play out I would not stick myself in the center of the story, or even be the messenger, I would leave it to her to tell. And this sounds like pride, I can tell this sounds defensive and righteous and Im not hitting the right tone. But it is really something much closer to resignation.

If there is something that you don’t want anyone to know don’t tell me.

Because you can’t trust me.

Even though I wish you could.



Published by

Anna Palmer

Anna Rosenblum Palmer is a freelance writer based in Denver, CO. She writes about sex, parenting, cat pee, bi-polar disorder and the NFL; all things inextricably intertwined with her mental health. In her free time she teaches her boys creative swear words, seeks the last missing puzzle piece and thinks deeply about how she is not exercising. Her writing can be found on Babble,, Great Moments in Parenting, Ravishly, Good Men Project, Sammiches and Psych Meds, Playpen, Crazy Good Parent, and YourTango. She also does a fair amount of navel gazing on her own blog at

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