The Mistake I Keep Making (And Maybe You Do Too) I used to think my biggest problem was saying too much. I’m Carissa. I’m bad at keeping secrets — literally, it’s the name of my podcast — and for a long time I low-key believed that my tendency to overshare was something I needed to fix. Like if I could just learn to hold back a little more, I’d seem more polished. More put-together. More professional. Case in point: when my mother-in-law first met me, she told my husband Josh that she was surprised he liked me because I talked too much. Too much. And honestly? She wasn’t wrong. I’ve spent a lot of my life believing that my openness was the problem. Then I sat down with Leslie John, a Harvard professor who has spent years researching self-disclosure, and she completely flipped the script on me. Turns out, the thing most of us should actually be worried about isn’t sharing too much. It’s sharing too little. Leslie calls it TLI — Too Little Information — and it’s everywhere. It’s the “I’m fine” when you’re not. It’s swallowing the hard conversation because you don’t want to make things weird. It’s never saying “I love you” first because what if they don’t say it back. It’s editing yourself so carefully, for so long, that the people closest to you don’t actually know you. And here’s what hit me hardest: Leslie told me that undersharing is actually one of the biggest problems in long-term relationships. Ding ding ding. I’m not going to lie — I needed to hear that one right now. Like, personally. Like she was talking directly to me. I think about how many times I’ve censored myself in relationships, in friendships, even in my own marriage — convinced I was being smart or safe — when really I was just quietly building walls and calling it boundaries. We kick off the conversation with a question I think so many of us have wrestled with: is it a good idea to tell someone you love them first? The answer might surprise you — but you’re going to have to listen to find out. Leslie’s book, Revealing: The Underrated Power of Oversharing, isn’t a permission slip to trauma dump on your coworkers. It’s something way more nuanced and honestly more important than that. It’s about learning to read the room, understanding when to be transparent versus vulnerable, and recognizing that being truly known by the people around you isn’t a liability — it’s the whole point. If you want the full run down on the how and the why of knowing when to share, grab her book. It’s the kind of read that makes you want to call someone you love immediately after. So whether you’re an oversharer who just wants to feel good about it, or someone who holds everything close and is tired of feeling invisible — this episode is for you. And when you’re done listening? Tell someone you love them. First. Without waiting. Without knowing if they’ll say it back. Because Leslie’s research shows that most of the time, they will. And even when it’s scary, even when your voice shakes a little — that moment of being truly seen is worth every second of vulnerability it took to get there. I spent a long time thinking my openness was too much. Turns out, it was never enough. Don’t make the same mistake. Listen, subscribe, and go tell someone how you feel. We’ll be here when you get back. Love, Carissa PS Who doesn’t like a good quiz? Check out Leslie’s to find out more of what kind of oversharer you are. PPS If you liked this and want to support us, subscribe:) Or get something for someone you love from People I’ve Loved. Like a mug for your mom (this was the OG mug we made for my mom for mother’s day 2020…) PPPS Bad At Keeping Secrets is a podcast by Carissa Potter (me). The music was produced by Officially Quigley, and the sound editing was done by Mark McDonald. Mark helps people start podcasts, and I highly recommend him if you have been thinking about starting one. You can sign up for a free meeting with him here. BAD AT KEEPING SECRETS is a reader-supported publication. We are so happy you are here! Get full access to BAD AT KEEPING SECRETS at peopleiveloved.substack.com/subscribe