If you don’t want it public, don’t put it on the internet.

Remember when people used to say that? People stopped believing it, but it never stopped being true. People said it before the dandruff of the internet became its hottest commodity.

Companies learned how to spin data into gold and give us a cut. All they needed was more data. First they learned how to track everything we do online. Then they gave us more to do.

They stored our photos and videos. They gave us games. They gave us discounts. They gave us reason to click, share, like, tweet, blog post, download, integrate, and check in.

Most importantly, they reached across geography to connect us to each other. And all in exchange for information we couldn’t do anything with otherwise.

Advertisers were delighted to go from shoving their wares in the face of everyone who turned on the evening news to 15–28 year olds who are fully employed and love Manga. Advertisers are why you can share a video of your daughter’s first steps with her grandparents immediately and for free.

But that data is not “safe.”

If someone wants your data from these companies, they’ll get it. See: Target, Sony, and now Ashley Madison.

Anyone can be doxxed. Any service can be hacked. Any information can be free.

Ashley Madison was never going to delete your data. It’s valuable. You’re powerless.

There’s a saying in Alcoholics Anonymous: You’re only as sick as your secrets.

A desire for privacy is born of fear and shame. It has no benefit other than coddling you into feeling protected from other people knowing the truth about you. But the truth will set you free.

Did Ashley Madison users really think privacy was possible? There’s another saying applicable here: It all comes out in the wash. Some of these people are afraid. But they’ve already endured the worst fate imaginable: To preclude being loved for who you are because you refuse to live authentically.

They bought a lie so they could live another one.

To love someone is to know them and accept them for who they are. Perfection isn’t required, but honesty is.

Not that it’s even an option, but even if we could have privacy, the cost would be love itself. We can never be loved as long as we live in private. Brands funded platforms we could use to share ourselves with interested people. We can bond over Beyonce memes and struggles with anxiety immediately and for free. Besides being a chimera, privacy shits on the greatest promise of the greatest innovation known to man.

Privacy is a farce. That’s a good thing.

The only way to live in private is to do nothing, say nothing, be nothing.

The only solution to a public world is to live so publicly that there’s nothing to be afraid or ashamed of, only things to connect over.

Every moment you spend trying to cover the shit you’re ashamed of is time you’re not spending actually getting better. Every moment you spend trying to cover the shit you’re afraid of people finding out is time you’re not spending telling people to fuck off with their judgment.

Fuck fear and shame. Do you, out loud. Get better, in public. People don’t connect with perfect images, they connect with real people. We’re on this Earth to love and be loved. We can’t do that if we’re too ashamed and afraid to even show people who we are.

You only think you have privacy because no one gives enough of a fuck about you to look for your data. Your stupid little secrets are the proverbial needle in the haystack. The best way to hide a needle in a haystack? Turn it into hay.