When you tell your story, when you open up and share your innermost feelings, you are putting yourself on display. You are letting the real you be known. You have picked the scab off the ugly stuff under it. You are out there, vulnerable, for all to see and judge. You are supposed to do this in creative nonfiction. You are supposed to admit what you did wrong, confess faulty philosophy, share your raw emotions and feelings, share your idiosyncrasies. You are an open wound.
Often, others don’t know how to treat that wound. They don’t like who you are.
And so, you try to sink back down into the new pink flesh and pull the dried blood over you and you vow to stay under the scab, hidden away, and never, ever again share yourself.
Only you can’t. Because you’ve already done it.
Kathy Rhodes 
Ok – You’re a realist and in the minority
Beautifully said!