Not a new question. But wondering today, why do many of us have the urge to tell our story?
The hucksters and liars and deranged aside, those who are just in it for the attention, or hopes of making money (oh make me laugh so funny!) why tell others of our weird experiences?
We see something weird. Unusual. Even at times, profound. Baffling, at best. Maybe missing time, an uncomfortable nagging feeling of something not right. That deer, that owl? Was it really?
Some of us of course never tell anyone. Or, tell a stranger, but not our spouses, siblings, parents, best friends. Because they will think we're crazy. So we don't tell them, but will share with an outsider who promises not to laugh and assures that they will be discreet.
But the rest of us, we feel compelled. Why? For me, it's not for money (again, I laugh. Laugh I say!) but ... well, because I believe we need to be reminded that there is more Out There than we suspect. That, I am NOT crazy. I work with you. I live with you. I am your friend. Your neighbor. You didn't think me nuts before. So why do you think that now?
Also I don't like being called al liar. No, I'm no pure as the driven snow dame, but I am not liar. I just don't make up shit for its own sake.
And I don't like hypocrites. It's okay to accept someone's belief in a religion, Christianity say, on its literal terms, but my seeing a white light around a Bigfoot is somehow... nutty? Lies? Psychotic?
Nah. I started calling out people on their responses to my stories a long time ago. Love their reactions. Lots of backtracking going on there.
Is this need to tell our stories based on the thing witnessed? Some aftermath? Or is it more just our the individual -- some of us are stubborn and blatant while others are prone to being more private? (Even so, they do need to tell, just not share with those close to them.)