“Never trust a man with horns on his hat.”
(Granny Weatherwax)
Yes, it's true: I did meet Old Hornie in the woods at the age of 16.
And no, I'm not going to tell you about it.
I'm not going to tell you about my most intimate sexual experiences, either.
No: those stories, and that story, is, and are, mine to me, not for other ears. This much I will tell you, though: what happened then changed me forever.
You can always tell a newbie by her eagerness to recount—usually at length—her Expeeeeriences. After you've been around for a while, you learn that everybody has had their own. You also learn that you can distinguish the real ones because they're the ones that people don't talk about.
Now there's a fine paradox for you.
Here's the irony: you don't talk because you don't have to. You've been there, you know it was real, and those In the Know can see the changes that it wrought. The eyes will tell you the truth of it. The changes are the story.
When I send my students off to the woods, I always tell them: I'll be interested to hear about what happens.
When they don't tell, they've passed the final test.