A guilty pleasure, according to Wiktionary, is “Something that brings pleasure but is considered taboo, unadvisable or lowbrow.”  It offers this as an example:  For the renowned sushi chef, eating fish sticks drowned in tartar sauce was a guilty pleasure.

As you can see, it’s nothing truly nefarious.  It isn’t even the thrill or the allure of the forbidden.  Just little things, if witnessed or confessed, that might cause other people to reconsider their esteem for you.  And esteem is a thing most of us crave, to the point of no longer being true to ourselves.

Of course, this sets me to pondering my own guilty pleasures and the reasons why I mightn’t want anyone else to know about them.  And then I wonder why the opinions of anyone else — regarding my personal preferences — should matter to me.