Over-Sharing: The Curse of Too Much Information

My ex-husband almost died, I've sustained a make-out related injury, and I am almost always constipated.

See. I've already said too much.

My name is Jennifer Brandt and I am an over sharer. I don't know when this habit started. Okay, well, I kind of do. I was an only child... sort of... Until I was six... My dad remarried and had kids... but I went there every other weekend, so it was mostly just me and my mom... in a one bedroom apartment. (Catching my drift here?) The point is, when you live with your mom (and you're a girl) chances are you have a very close relationship and chances are you tell her everything. In my case, I told her everything. These days, I'm learning to hold back... thanks to lots of therapy. (Oh, dear god, I cannot stop).

Is it nervousness? Is it honesty? Is it a total disregard for anything sacred or private? Should I be a reality TV star? What is it, because I can't stop sharing!

From getting divorced, to the details of the birth of my son, to the current balance in my checking account, I'll tell anyone just about anything. I have to say though, I think the curse of T.M.I. has been the gateway to connecting and making friendships everywhere I go. Quite frankly, I think it makes me relatable and real. I mean, isn't it nice to meet someone at a conference and discover that you both have the same I.U.D.? 

I don't know if it's age, a great sense of humor (if I do say so myself), or a missing filter/screw, but I wear my heart on my sleeve and tell people (in laws, bosses, preschool teachers, etc.) things (a history of bouncing checks, getting fired from two jobs, the frequency of my bikini waxes, etc.) that should probably be saved for my therapist (oops, did it again). 

Are you an over sharer? Tell me. Everything!