The Hidden You

Maybe you have fake arguments in your head that you absolutely win. talk out loud during a wild book scene, acting like there’s someone there to listen. Maybe you full-on reenact moments from movies, dance like you’re on tour, narrate your life like you’re in a documentary, or talk out loud during a wild book scene, acting like there’s someone there to listen. Some people sing like they’re on Broadway, others talk to their pets or even their plants. We all have secret behaviors that only make an appearance when no one else is around—those tiny, private versions of ourselves that feel too strange, too dramatic, or too unfiltered for the outside world. So I’m curious, what’s your secret “no one’s watching,” hidden-you behavior? 

This isn't another post about guilty pleasures, this is more like what is something only you can watch yourself doing? I feel like arguments in your head is a classic one. If anything, I would find it strange if you haven't ever done that. If that someone is you, I shall explain. This hidden-you behavior is when you might have just had an argument, or are practicing one, just in case, or reimagining one that happened years ago. You rehearse what you might say, or rework what was already said in order to win the argument. You mentally patch up all the parts where you felt small. I happen to think it has to do with everyone's inner-competitive-prideful nature. Where we, just as basic humans, tend to hold a lot of weight when we lose an argument that reimagining how it really went down, is how we cope with losing. Reimagining how it "should have" gone, is also the regretful reminder of all the things we could've said, and didn't—and what we did say that we shouldn't have. Another universal one is singing in the car or belting in the shower. Can it be called a guilty pleasure if it is only ever in those two places? Along with the occasion-specific karaoke bar after shots of courage. The formers are pretty much the only universal common area where you are alone, and the setting is closest to sound-proof—so you let loose. The latter karaoke bars are baby loopholes, they are one of the only social situations where performing badly is somehow the point. It's where the shower soprano and steering-wheel drummer versions of you get to exist out loud—vulnerability disguised as fun.

This is the baseline and all too common. Then there are some that are specific to us and sound strange the second we say them. For example, sometimes when I am reading, or watching something, and something happens that makes me think, or upsets me, or prompts me to predict what might happen, I will hit pause and put my book down and explain it aloud. To no one. A full-fledged lecture to my bedroom walls about the fictional situation and why it is the utmost of dire circumstances. I am not a doctor, so who can definitely say why it is I (or hopefully at least one of you) do this, but personally I think better when I say it aloud or write it down. Whenever I study, I have to prompt the questions aloud and answer out loud too, I used to do it at my previous job and my coworkers definitely hated it. I always passed though mwahaha. It might just be a mechanism I need in order to debunk and process a situation so that I can prepare my response. Do I need to do that for fictional scenarios? Probably not, but none of you are there when I do it so who cares?

Per usual a poll has been taken, and I have another friend who will sometimes try on potential going-out clothes and confirm they look amazing in reality just as they do in her head (they always do, she is gorgeous), and then changes right back to regular clothes. I had three friends who said they also do this exact thing and will also walk around in pretend conversations to get a glimpse of the fit from all angles. Maybe we are all schizophrenic. I digress, it isn't always lighthearted either. Another friend of mine tied his hidden-self into OCD ticks that have to be done in order to move on to another task. It is different from my fictional monologues or my friends outfit runways, but in an odd way, it lives in the same neighborhood. It's his mind trying to create order before stepping into what comes next, the same way I talk things out to make sense of the situation, or my friends testing their outfits to feel ready at a moments notice. And even though, the reasons behind each behavior vary—comfort, preparation, clarity, anxiety—they are all forms of grounding ourselves when we need a break.

Perhaps these hidden versions of you are just mini-rehearsals for the possible. You belting in the shower makes great practice for a karaoke outing. You reimagining past arguments with better comebacks is you prepping for the possibility of a rerun. The irony of it all is that we keep our hidden selves beneath the surface because we deem them too bizarre, embarrassing, or too unhinged to be spoken aloud, but the second you compare notes, you realize everyone is doing the exact same thing in their own flavor. You know that movie cliché "saying it out loud makes it real," but reality isn't always bad—it sounds like our way of merging the two. Practicing events that haven't happened, Rehearsing events that haven't happened, understanding fictional situations that have never happened, the hidden behavior grounds us for the possible. These little hidden behaviors aren't weird, they are just proof that there is a part of us constantly trying to understand, prepare, soothe, or just exist without pressure. And perhaps that is why we keep them private, not because they are shameful, but because they are tender. They belong to the softest version of ourselves, the one we only bring out when no one is watching.

P.S. Happy Easter!