The danger behind ‘I’ve never told anyone this’: When oversharing in new friendships breeds control

It took me years to understand this: When someone tells you their entire life story within days of meeting, it doesn’t automatically mean the friendship is deep or intense—no matter how much you want to believe it is.

 You know that first rush, that inexplicable joy of being the person they ‘bare their soul’ to, is intoxicating. Maybe, I was just too ready to  ‘be there’ for someone, whatever that meant. Perhaps it felt calming to be someone’s confidante.

 But in every friendship and relationship that fizzled out within months, I eventually saw the pattern. Oversharing. Highly private details. Heavy stories about love, loss, grief. And with that, the subtle illusion that because such intimate information was exchanged, the bond is special and unique.

 It feels different.

 But often, it isn’t. It’s a fire that flares fast, burns bright—and leaves you singed when it goes out. It creates the illusion of closeness, leaving both sides vulnerable to disappointment, and sometimes, in an unhealthy co-dependent space.

 As Dr Saliha Afridi, clinical psychologist, founder and the director of Lighthouse Arabia explains: Oversharing, for starters is when you share more and faster than the trust that is built in the relationship at the time. There is no safety, reciprocity to warrant those kinds of disclosure. “And yes, some people desperately want to be seen, and want to feel close to the other so they offer more about themselves than the container of the relationship can hold,” she says.

 Dubai-based Samya Shariff recalls a curious position that she was once in. She became friends with a colleague. Within days, they had swapped life stories, which included parent's divorces, deaths that scarred them, estranged siblings and broken relationships. “It was very intense, and I normally wouldn’t have, but when he started, I felt like I needed to share with him too. The thought started entering my mind, if someone is confiding in me, shouldn’t I reciprocate?”

 Shariff admits that this anxiety stemmed from her own psychological makeup: The fear of being alone and without friends. And, the relief, that someone trusted her with something so delicate. “It was exhausting, and we just kept having these sage conversations that I believed was strengthening our friendship. But looking back, we didn’t even have a friendship.”  

This mirrors Dr Afridi’s sentiments: The more personal, raw, or exposed the feelings, the more visibility it receives. To be relatable, they engage in personal disclosures, which gives a sense of connection and approval.

Oversharing triggers neurochemical responses, tricking the person into believing that the connection feels real, even when there’s no history of reliability or boundaries, which are all needed for true intimacy. Instead, we cherish the exalted feeling of believing that our friendship is unusual and special, when in reality, the foundations are weak and fraying.

 Sometimes, that rush of emotional confession is simply a way to paper over what’s not working between two people.

As Ezgi Firat, a clinical psychologist based at the Hummingbird Clinic Dubai explains, the beginning of a relationship may evoke early anxieties. These feelings might be difficult to tolerate. “To ignore that discomfort, one might rush the relationship forward, hoping closeness will soothe the anxiety. When intimacy is rushed, the connection may feel as if it is strong but lacks the foundation to handle conflicts that a real enough relationship requires,” she says.

Misunderstandings occur. Disappointment builds, because expectations grow faster, because there is a lack of trust. The irony: This haste is to be a guard against rejection and uncertainty, but unfortunately, it easily results in the very outcome that was feared.

 And often, these ‘oversharing;’ relationships catch the lonely, insecure and battered. Abu Dhabi-based Shahana Rane (name changed on request), recalls how a colleague started building a close friendship with her, by praising her, noticing when she was upset---all in an office that had left her rather insecure and inadequate.

“I was just so lonely and grateful to be noticed that I fell into the friendship immediately,” she remembers. “The first month, he had already called me his close, special friend. No one else knew him like I did, he said. I knew all his life stories and I found myself sharing mine, the most personal details of my life. It felt so comforting in that moment, and yet so exhausting too.”

 The cracks began appearing, when he grew possessive. “Before I knew it, I was constantly explaining myself to him, apologising and soothing him. He was angry if I didn’t spend enough time with him at work, and I just kept explaining. His argument: We had built such a friendship of closeness that it deserved more respect.”

 It took her over a year, to finally break away, to stop sharing more details about her life and provide neutral responses if he did so. “The exhaustion lessened and when I finally had the courage, I cut off all contact.”

It becomes a little too burdensome to bear. Dr Ezgi Firat adds,  “As adults, we are often less aware of our inner world than we assume, and our emotions or behaviours may operate outside of our conscious awareness. In this state, someone may unknowingly expect the other person to hold or manage feelings they themselves cannot contain.”

 The relationship is imbalanced. It resembles the early developmental pattern, in which a caregiver carries a child’s fears and anxieties. “It can position the person who overshares in a dependent role. In such cases, excessive disclosure may pressure or manipulate the other person into taking responsibility for emotional needs that are not theirs to carry,” Dr Firat adds.

 Firat emphasises the importance of timing and context: “Healthy relationships respects context, power dynamics, and consent… it leaves space for choice—it allows the other person to stay present, set limits, or take time, without emotional pressure.”

 When we think about emotional openness, we often imagine sharing our feelings freely in hopes of being heard and understood. Yet genuine frankness cannot exist without boundaries around timing and vulnerability.  Meriam Atef, psychologist, weighs in:

“Sharing too much, too soon can overwhelm the listener and create the sense of having emotions ‘dumped’ onto them. When this happens early in a relationship, it can feel like ‘too much, too fast,’ prompting the other person to step back and reassess their capacity for closeness.”

  Learning when and how to share allows us to consider the relationship, the context, and the other person’s emotional availability. You build a relationship through the joy of little small talk that evolve into deeper conversations over time, spending time with each other, because you want to, not out of compulsion.

The risks of oversharing too soon

 It blurs boundaries. The sense of personal space evaporates, explains Sarkis Gudjelian, Clinical Psychologist.  It can blur boundaries, causing the relationship to lose a sense of personal space. When one person shares excessively, the other may feel overwhelmed, leading to a loss of autonomy and independence.

 Moreover, it creates a sense of clinginess, or insecure attachment. There’s an unhealthy dependence on the other person. There’s clinginess, as one person keeps disclosing intensely, while the other is responsible for managing and containing those emotions.

 Additionally,  oversharing can confuse emotional intensity with genuine intimacy. The person may assume that sharing a lot equals closeness, overlooking the fact that true intimacy develops gradually over time.

 As Dr Afridi explains:  We learn how to communicate in relationships, and oversharing is a learned response and an adaptation. For people who grew up with inconsistent attachment, relational trauma, or have spent long periods feeling lonely and feeling unseen, sharing deeply and quickly can feel like the fastest way to create connection and relieve the pain of being unseen.

 In the moment, it brings real emotional relief.

 But, it’s not.

 As psychologist Meriam Atef reminds us, intimacy isn’t something you fast-forward. True closeness grows in the quiet, ordinary moments—when someone shows up, listens without rushing, respects the quiet and stays steady through the highs and lows. These small, repeated experiences teach the nervous system that the relationship is a safe place. And it’s only in that safety that deeper confidences can unfold naturally.

When we stop relying on intense disclosures to manufacture connection, we make space for intimacy that’s grounded, mutual, and emotionally sustainable. The slow path isn’t just healthier—it’s the one that lasts.

By embracing slower, steadier ways of connecting, couples can nurture intimacy that feels safe, mutual, and genuinely close—without falling into the oversharing trap.

So, remember, what feels intense at first may not be intimacy at all—it may just be heat without warmth.