Skeletons

Skeletons.  We all have them.  Some more than others.  Many worse than others.  The thing is, do you really want to talk about them?  Worse, do you want to talk to a total stranger about them?

That’s the situation I found myself in today.  I’m in the process of working on my financial situation and part of that is getting life insurance.  Of course, the insurance company wants to know every single aspect of every single second of my life.

Question is, do I want to give up that information?  Not that I’ve been some horrible degenerate, in and out of prison, and a giant drug addict.  Hardly.  However, there are things I don’t really want to discuss with a medical professional, let alone my financial adviser.

So, the dilemma is, do I cough up the skeletons or do I chicken out and risk possible future security for my daughter?  Granted, the adviser is a professional, but I’m still embarrassed and fear being judged.  I know what the right answer is, but can I “woman up” and do the right thing?