It's hazardous to relate any stories about my birth seeing as putting my town of birth and the exact date online gives you two of the three facts you need to steal my identity
I've been reading some books about a detective who is also a wizard, and he trades knowledge of fragments of his name (he has several middle names) with a demon, who gives him data in return. Once the demon has his entire name, it can control him with its demonic magic.
Every time I tell personal stories online, I give away one of a scarce number of facts. Once that process is complete, I flip inside-out, inverted, and the answer to the question "who is Matt Webb" will be found in the world and not in my body. I won't be in control any longer.
But holding onto facts - metering them out, being cautious - is as bad as trying to save the planet by flying a little less, or avoiding heartache by the refusing of falling in love. Let's make more facts, so many, as many as we can, and be profligate with the ones we already have!
It's my birthday today; this is an image of a photograph of a younger me.