During an Outlander episode, Jamie described a place within each of us that holds all that can be known about us. He called it the fortress that protects us from ourselves and others. Things reside there that some people know and things people don’t need to know, things that only matter, or mean something, to me. There are things I keep in the dungeon until I’m able to deal with them. Things reside there that I’ve never told anyone, and that’s OK; I don’t have to be a totally open book. I can only guess what it would be like if I was. To be fully known to someone else would expose my vulnerability, my very essence, which consists of all I hold most special and my deepest imperfections; both very much worth protecting. Unlike a door, a drawbridge can’t be partially opened; so I can’t just let anyone in. I’ve allowed a few in who I know will love and accept me no matter what they find inside, but even they don’t know everything. I don’t consider the things I hold back as secrets, but rather the only true possessions I own that makes me, me, and not you.