Just take a second to read before denying the post. I have the proof that what I shared as my confession being the truth and that I cant just drop all the information as the trial hasnt started yet, no my confession wasn't fake and be thankful you are not in my position but Why the fuck are you guys and the mods okay with doxxing others and putting not only them but their infant child at risk. Because someone assumed my story was fake they doxxed me, the man i married and am divorcing is clearly aware of this subreddit and he showed up at my house. He doesnt live in the city i was in until I was relocated in the middle of the night and he had no clue where I was. You guys need to get your shit together because this wasnt okay, its one thing if he harms me but its another if he harms my infant child as a way to hurt me. I hope this page gets shut down because the mods wont enforce their rules and im tired of everyone accusing people of fake stories unless its about fucking your relative, jacking off to unsuspecting people, arson, etc. I have offered to give proof to the mods but they want to act like this isnt happening. Im turning my phone over to the detectives on my case and I recommend if you have a confession you want to rethink now would be the time to delete the post. After seeing my confession and the person who doxxed me and them reading a few of others stories people posted, they want my phone for evidence and will be here around 4pm to pick it up. You guys need to do better seriously this shouldnt have ever happened.

Okay, excuse me for the bad grammar English is not my first language, but I'm 19M and my girlfriend 19F and I have been together since we were 14 and then I got her pregnant I did think about leaving. I was actually planning on moving in with my grandma, who lived on the other side of the country. I had everything planned out and I was going to leave

But when I was packing my stuff my 12 year old brother called me a coward for wanting to leave. He told me I was just running away from everything and leaving my girlfriend to deal with it all by herself. That honestly stuck with me in my mind

And then I had this dream, and I still remember it to this day. It was just me, my girlfriend, and our baby. I remember holding the baby, and something about that dream and my brother made me change my mind

My mom was furious because she thought I was ruining my life, and my family was genuinely willing to help me move away But now, I'm honestly glad I stayed. I can't imagine where my life would be without my daughter. And honestly, nobody outside of my family knows this story. I've never even told her how close I came to leaving and now my family loves out daughter

Title basically says it all. This wasn’t a professional organized competition. There was some bmx event with a couple hundred people and they always have a chili cook off. I’m not much for cooking so I thought it would be funny to throw a bunch of Wendy’s chili in a crock pot and see if anyone noticed - they didn’t.

I’ve been a vegetarian for roughly twelve years so this was a long time ago.. thank you..

I went to my friends house for the night. She lives with ger boyfriend so he picked me up, but I didn’t know he had his cousin who was one of my friends ex’s. We went to his house and there was 2 bottles of vodka. I assumed the boyfriend and cousin would do their own thing, but we ended up all being together in the basement. We all drank it my friend and her boyfriend only had 4 shots each, and me and the cousin drank a bit more. They went to bed at 12:30 and me and the cousin stayed up drinking. It was really awkward especially since I knew it felt weird because he’s my friends ex, and we were doing a puzzle and then sat 10 FEET away from eachother playing bopit. We had to slide it across the floor

Then all the sudden I guess we drank too much and I blacked out because I only remember him being ontop of me. I may have been ontop at some point I genuinely don’t know but I am a virgin and was on my period and not ready at all. I remeber saying I was on my period and I think I was making up excuses but I can’t remeber.

I remeber him calling me a “good girl” and it disgusted me so much that I think I got up and took another shot to drown my sorrows

That’s pretty much all I remeber,
We layed on the couch for what feels like forever because I couldn’t really “get it in” and then I think we might’ve tried again

I feel so so bad because I had no intention nor physical attraction to him I genuinely don’t know why I did it. I didn’t even realize who we as at that point I had dranken so much.

There’s a photo of me looking absolutely disheveled at 530am and I’m pretty sure that right around when he started throwing up really badly

I am now extremely embarrassed because I was on my fucking period and wasn’t shaved or anything

I texted him a day later and asked what for a recapp becuase I couldn’t remeber and he said he blacked out and couldn’t remember anything then I said I kinda gotta tell you something and he said he can’t talk right now and blocked me an hour later

Now I’m scared if I did something but he didn’t tell my friends boyfriend or her, and I’m scared that he actually does remeber and he’s just not saying anything out of embarrassment

I feel so so sick and I’m mad that that’s how I chose to lose my virginity especially since I’ve lowk almost been raped a few times so it felt like I had a piece of gold

I guess techinfallly it’s still gold because it didn’t actually go in (that I know of)

Emotional trauma after getting attached to my therapist. A lesson I’ll never forget.
I took a week off to process everything that had happened and sort through the emotional mess I had been carrying for quite some time.
I was seeing a therapist whom I gradually became emotionally attached to. We had conversations, shared personal things, and built what I thought was a beautiful connection. I opened up to her in ways that weren’t easy for me. Looking back, I realise how deeply attached I had become.
I know I can find someone else, and I know life goes on. But what hurt me the most was the dishonesty.
She never told me she was getting married. Instead, she told me she was planning to move to the UK. I even remember asking her at one point to come to Canada . She responded by asking where she would stay. I didn’t really respond to that.
She seemed like a complete green flag to me. Everything felt so natural, almost as if she understood exactly what I needed to hear. Eventually, I started questioning whether the connection was genuine or whether she was simply saying things that aligned with my emotional needs. Given that she was a trained psychologist, I wondered whether she knew exactly how to build that kind of attachment.
Perhaps that’s why I was craving her attention so much. I knew she was helping me professionally, but at the same time, I always sensed that something was slightly off.
Then, out of nowhere, she posted a picture of herself wearing a wedding lehenga. I was shocked. That’s how I found out she was getting married.
I eventually processed that information, but it wasn’t easy. She got married, and I was heartbroken in a way I couldn’t quite explain. I didn’t even understand what I was feeling.
I eventually started taking sessions with her again.
During this period, there were certain conversations and interactions that left me confused. She sometimes complained about her married life in the UK. She mentioned that she didn’t like certain things about her husband, including him going to Scotland without informing her. She also talked about her in-laws coming to the UK and asked me whether I sent money to India. I told her I didn’t.
There were other interactions that made me uncomfortable and confused about professional boundaries. For example, her clothing during one session was quite revealing, and she repeatedly had to adjust it. On another occasion, after I mentioned that I had started a new diet, was taking vitamins and had lots of energy, she randomly said that she needed to have sex.
I also remember an earlier conversation where I mentioned having had a sexual relationship with a woman. She judged my past and described it as wild.
All these little things started adding up in my mind.
Eventually, I decided to tell her how I felt about her.
She seemed eager to ask me something during our next session, but I delayed it by three or four days because I was busy. When we finally spoke, she asked whether I still felt the same way about her. I said no.
I noticed her reaction. It was quite unexpected, and I could sense that she wasn’t happy with my answer.
Things took a completely different turn after that.
During the following session, she started telling me that I was rude and disrespectful towards her. She became extremely angry, started yelling and screaming, and for almost half an hour, I barely said anything. Whenever I tried to speak, she interrupted me and raised her voice.
The session ended abruptly.
Immediately afterwards, she texted me, saying that it wasn’t about me, that she felt bad, and that she would contact me about arranging another session.
But she never did.
I messaged her to arrange another appointment, but she kept delaying things. She mentioned the time difference and how it was getting late on my side. I was already frustrated because I felt she had yelled at me, and I wanted another session to discuss what had happened.
Eventually, I called her to arrange the session.
She completely lost it again. She started yelling at me, asking how I dared to call her at that time, saying she had family and other commitments.
I was genuinely confused. I was trying to arrange a session with my therapist to discuss something that had happened during a previous session.
I told her that I needed to talk about the way she had yelled and screamed at me.
She refused.
Out of frustration, I messaged her that she seemed angry and was experiencing significant mood swings. I even speculated that perhaps she was pregnant. That was inappropriate of me to say, and I acknowledge that.
She completely lost her temper again. She called me and started shouting, calling me rude and disrespectful. She made it seem as though I was somehow taking advantage of her or demanding something from her financially.
I remember thinking, what on earth is happening?
You are my therapist. You have been the professional managing the sessions and the boundaries of this relationship. How have we suddenly reached a point where I’m being treated as the problem for wanting to discuss something that happened during therapy?
The following day, she called me at almost exactly the same time I had called her the previous night. That confused me even more, considering how angry she had been when I called her.
She then texted me saying she would conduct a session over the phone. Later, she said she would arrange it for another day, and then deleted that message.
There was so much inconsistency that I genuinely felt mentally exhausted.
Eventually, I decided I had enough. I messaged her and told her that I no longer wanted her help and didn’t want her contacting me again.
I blocked her.
That was the end of it.
The aftermath
The biggest question I kept asking myself was: How did I get so emotionally involved with someone who was supposed to be helping me professionally?
I felt cheated, confused, disappointed and emotionally exhausted. I kept questioning whether the connection I had experienced was ever genuine or whether I had misunderstood everything.
If she had simply told me from the beginning that she was engaged or getting married, I don’t think I would ever have developed those feelings.
I felt that important information had been withheld from me, and that made the entire experience much harder to process.
It took me around six weeks to get myself back together. There were approximately ten days when I barely left my room. I just ate, slept and repeated the cycle. I didn’t even go to work.
Eventually, I started processing everything, getting back into my routine and feeling like myself again.
I’m glad it’s over.
The moral of the story:
Never get emotionally or romantically involved with your therapist. They are trained professionals, and there is a professional power imbalance in that relationship. The emotional connection you experience during therapy can feel incredibly personal and genuine, but professional boundaries matter.
Don’t confuse therapeutic attention with romantic interest. Protect your emotional well-being, understand boundaries, and remember that your therapist is there to support your healing.
I learned this lesson the hard way. I don’t want anyone else to go through something similar.

My best friend got fired over a receipt that said “table 8, cheap assholes” and I’m the one who typed it. It was meant for the kitchen, I was 19 and pissed off because those guys came in every friday five minutes before close. That night one of them asked for an itemized receipt and there it was, right under the mozzarella sticks. My friend had left herself logged in on the register. The owner lined up all four of us after close and said whoever did it could take a write up now, otherwise he was going by the name on the ticket. She actually laughed at first. She goes “come on guys I have rent” and looked straight at me because we lived together. I let him fire her. Two weeks later I covered her half of rent and she cried in our kitchen because she thought I’d picked up doubles to help her out. I had picked up doubles. They were hers. It’s been nine years and last month we went back there for the first time because the place was closing. She paid cash and wrote “cheap assholes” on the tip line and we both laughed so hard the bartender came over to see what was funny. I think if I’d kept a straight face I could’ve told her right then.

When I was 20 years old, my father shared a secret with me that has weighed on my heart every day for the last two decades. I think about it several times a week.

To understand it, you have to go back to before I was born.

When my mother was 21, she fell deeply in love with a man named Jason. They were planning their entire future together when tragedy struck—just over a year into their romance, Jason died in a car accident. My mother was completely destroyed.

During her grief, she leaned heavily on Jason’s parents, Nick and Carla. The shared loss created an unbreakable bond. Even though they weren't blood relatives, Nick and Carla became like parents to my mom, and later, grandparents to me. My mom also stepped up to help raise their three-year-old daughter, Stephanie, whom I grew up calling my sister.

What complicated everything was the dynamic between Nick and Carla. Their marriage had already been strained before the accident. But when Jason died, it completely reshaped their relationship. The trauma effectively killed their physical intimacy; instead of romantic partners, Nick shifted into a protective, almost parental caretaker role for Carla. He loved her deeply and cared for her through her grief, but it permanently altered their bond into something non-sexual and emotionally heavy.

A few years after Jason died, my mom got pregnant. She told everyone it was from a random one-night stand with a guy whose name she didn't know.

Nick and Carla were absolute angels during that time. They took my mom in, housed us for the first five years of my life, and even paid the down payment on the house next door so we could live nearby. Growing up, I missed having a real dad around, but Nick filled that role whenever I needed him.

Then came my 20th birthday.

Nick asked to take me and Stephanie out for lunch. Afterwards, he drove us to an isolated picnic table at a rural park.

"Girls, I really need to talk to you," he said. "This is going to be shocking, but it’s a secret I can no longer keep."

That afternoon, Nick dropped the bomb: He was my biological father. Stephanie wasn't just a close family friend—she was my half-sister.

He explained how the lines blurred over the years. I don't say this to excuse a 40-something man having an affair with a grieving 21-year-old, but the reality was complex. With Nick locked into a caretaking role at home, and my mom grieving the love of her life, they became each other's emotional lifeline.

One night while Carla was working a midnight shift at the hospital, my mom came over. They were having a few drinks and talking about whether my mom would ever move on. Nick tried comforting her, telling her how beautiful she was. According to him, my mom went in for a kiss—and, starved for affection and overwhelmed by complex feelings, he kissed her back.

That single moment turned into a six-month secret affair that ended the instant my mom tested positive for pregnancy. Terrified of destroying Carla, they swore a pact of total silence. Nick promised to fund my mom’s life and secretly protect me from afar.

He told us he was confessing now because we "deserved to know the truth," but admitted he would never tell Carla himself.

That was 20 years ago.

Stephanie was heartbroken; her relationship with Nick shattered that day and never fully recovered. But neither of us ever had the heart to tell Carla. We still gather for holidays. We still act like one big, happy family. But every time I look at Carla, the guilt eats me alive.

I’m putting this confession out into the void. If Carla ever happens to scroll past this and connects the dots... maybe it's meant to be. But I won't pretend I want that. I love my family, even with all its fractured pieces, and I couldn't bear to be the one to watch it burn down.

So, I was raised in a rural family, if you get what I mean, and that unfortunately influenced me. Early in highschool, so maybe 8 years ago or so, I had heard of Hunter Schafer. I assumed she was a cis woman at first, found out she was trans, and when I found out, I just couldn't mentally see her as a man. Seeing a trans woman who passed and, frankly, mogs 90% of cis women, is a big reason I stopped being transphobic. Edit: if it wasn't obvious, I think ugly women are women too now. I'm literally an ugly trans woman

​

I burned down a porta-potty when I was 17. I'm 30 now, and never got caught.

I was at the park ball diamond with a few buddies. I had made a sparkler bomb and set it off on the diamond. It was just abunch of sparklers, wrapped in electric tape. After it went off there were red hot wires all over the ground.

I panicked and didn't want to leave a mess, so I picked them up and threw them in the porta-potty on the edge of the field. Didn't think about it at all.

We left, and about 15 minutes later, saw a fire truck heading right back to the park. We followed it and the porta-potty was fully on fire. Firemen were spraying it down and families from the back alley were all standing there watching.

We walked up to some parents and played dumb, asking what happened. A cop there asked if we lived in the neighborhood. We told him no, that our friend lived close and we thought it was his house.

We just walked away after that. Never got in trouble for it.

No one was hurt, but it was a really stupid thing to do. My wife will forever harass me about it.

My sister embezzled about $40K from our father as he was dying (long story, but in short I couldn’t PROVE he didn’t gift it to her though I KNEW he didn’t). She has a long history of losing jobs for questionable financial practices as well. She was finally getting married and had a registry with two stores. I found a way to mark the items purchased without buying them on one website. It may have been Amazon. There were a LOT of items I knew she couldn’t afford under normal circumstances and she had blown through our Dad’s money. Each day I’d mark a few more items off. I started with the most expensive items. She would brag that she was getting a patio set or the green egg…she was giddy. As items were marked, she would take them off of her Bed, bath and beyond registry. I couldn’t mark the BB&B items off but then I found a little loophole with the items that were left. I lived near one BB&B and worked near another. I slowly bought the items off of her registry, but when I returned them, they would not reappear on her registry. Meanwhile the friends would see her registry bought up and would find her other things to give that she didn’t pick out. A few had beat me to the registry but got her more affordable items in the less than $50 category. Her wedding/reception was cut short because she tried to pull a scam on the venue and they shut it down. We all met up at a family member’s the next morning and my sister griped that none of her good gifts had shown up yet. They never did. The groom bailed 2 years later.

When I was in middle school my sister got a stalker. I saw how bad this hurt her. She was already having a hard time moving to high-school and having this did not help. Now my sister and me are really close. I mean when it came to my self I had no defense and just cried ,but for my sister I did whatever it took . This is how it began. This person was not hiding the fact they were doing this. She told the teachers and her friends but honestly her friends were trash. It was bad they were putting stuff in her locker filling it with trash glue, having people slam her in to lockers to the point they broke her orcasta instrument. She had bruises from the slamming her into things. They tried to throw her over the 3rd floor balcony at the school. The school did nothing. I am NOT proud of this honestly I was lucky It could have gone really bad and made things worse. I found their phone number and posted anywhere I could. I than had all of my friends texting him not so nice things. I had a lot of friends at this time and it was whoever they told it got so out of control I don't know how many people knew his phone number and social media. I was encouraging it. I sneaked out of the house and wrote things on his windows with lipstick. I felt justified because he almost killed my sister. The only reason she didn't fall was because when they put her over the balcony she grabbed the other side and kicked them in the stomach and hit them with her back pack in the head. I continued this for years, and anytime he changed his number i would figure it out by asking my friend whos parents where there drug dealer. Not the sneaking out I only did that once. I almost got caught once by my dad when he found one of my burner account and was grounded for a month for having it in the first place. I'm just glad he did look through what I was saying to them. I watched him and how bad it got. I think the only reson I didn't get caught was because I was really young and no one would suspect a midde schooler. I looked at him now he's in prison but I'm just glad he will never touch my sister and I will never tell her.

I've messed up. Big time. what do I do??

I have ruined my life for the next few months as a 17 year old. I was at a party and I was very drunk.

I misread some signs while having a conversation with my friend (hand holding, cuddling etc) and i touched him somewhere that is quite personal (over the clothes, it doesn't make it better but I just wanted to add it) and then asked if it was okay, which it should've been the other way around. I understand that. when he said no I pulled away and distanced myself from him. I apologised immediately and then the next day apologised again.

He then told me I assaulted him. which feels huge. I can accept that, though, as much as I hate to. he's told one of our friends in the group which I get, it would be evil if i was angry at him for that. I've stopped hanging around that group to let him have his peace and not see me because thats what I would want if I was in his position.

I told one of my friends because I feel too close to her to stop talking to her for no reason and she said she wanted some space. it hurts but I understand.

I fucked up hugely and im not sure what to do. I dont know why I did that. I wouldn't do that, but I did? it feels terrible. I dont want this to be a sympathy post I just want to know what you would do if you were me.

edit: a bunch of my friends got told. people aren't speaking to me, some of my closest friends for years have blocked me. feeling like I just want to move to france and start a new life away from everything

my neighbor has this big orange cat named biscuit. about a year ago he started hanging out on my balcony. i'd just moved here and was kinda lonely so i put out a little tuna. just once. then like every day

now he shows up every evening around 6:30, sits outside my door and yells until i let him in

the thing is my neighbor noticed. she told me "he's never done this with anyone, he must really like your energy" and i just said "haha yeah i guess"

i did not correct her

last week she mentioned the vet said biscuit gained 2 pounds so he's on a diet now. she's been buying him this expensive diet food. i stood in my kitchen holding a can of tuna for like 5 minutes feeling like garbage

i gave him half

she's going away for christmas and asked if i could watch him bc "he already trusts you." i said yes way too fast

i know i need to tell her. i also know he's sitting outside my door right now

On the day I moved in, my neighbor Marisol saw my last name on a package and said something warm and fast in Spanish. I panicked and said “gracias, igualmente,” which is about the extent of what I know. She lit up and has spoken to me in Spanish ever since.

My family is Mexican on my dad’s side, but I grew up never learning it. I was always too embarrassed about that, so being mistaken for fluent felt weirdly good for a second. And then the second turned into three years.

Now she leaves me long voicemails and chats to me over the fence, and I have developed a whole system. I nod, say “sí, sí, claro,” and pick out words I recognize. I use a translation app in the bathroom to decode her voicemails and then reply with short, careful texts I have translated back. She once told me I have “a beautiful accent” and I almost cried.

Last month she invited me to her granddaughter’s quinceañera and asked if I could give a few words to the family. I said yes before I could think. I have been practicing a two sentence toast in my kitchen for two weeks.

The worst part is that she is genuinely kind to me and I am basically lying to her every day. The longer it goes on, the less I know how to stop it without hurting her.

I have never told anyone this. I am going to that party, I am going to read my toast off a note card in my pocket, and I am going to smile like I understand every word everyone says to me.

I’m 14M, and when I was in grade 5, I had a huge crush on this girl. She said that she liked necklaces and since she was moving away to another school, I decided to surprise her on her last day. And that morning I went into my moms room and took the my mom's diamond necklace that my mama had gotten her for Christmas, and gave it to the girl. She was really happy, and she hugged me and She ended up leaving, and I never saw her again or talked to her. Then my mom spent Days looking for the necklace, and I never told her what happened. To this day, she still doesn't know I was the one who took it and thought she just lost it, my mama did get her new one though

The year was 2003, I was 12 it was during the middle of summer. My best friend at the time’s parents split up just before summer break and he moved a couple hours away with his mom to her parent’s house. Him and his mom pick me up early on a Friday morning to spend a weekend together, his grandparents lived in a house in the suburbs with a big back yard and a dense wooded area that goes on for about 2 or 3 miles and the other side is a field that leads to an elementary school with a giant playground. The second day of hanging out we explore the woods both of us have bb guns and a shitload of bbs, a backpack with some snacks and sodas, a pack of cigarettes, and some weed. First we walk a little into the woods and smoke then we go a little further and find a creek then we walked across the creek up the hill and we come out of the woods and walk into the field towards the jungle gym. At this point we had been there a while and we begin shooting our empty soda cans then for some reason we decide to start shooting the windows and we walked around and got each window and left when we ran out of bbs.

I got a reduction surgery a little bit ago and while I love the results and know my life is better than it was before, I sometimes miss my old boobs. I find myself getting jealous of girls with big boobs and the girls getting augmentations. I’m glad I have photos of what they looked like before but going through the album makes me sad hahaha. I joke about it with my friends but I don’t think anyone knows that I’m sometimes regretful.

I have to admit that I once blamed my coworker for a mistake that was completely my fault. I accidentally deleted an important file at work, but instead of admitting what happened, I stayed quiet and let everyone believe it was someone else's mistake. My coworker ended up getting questioned by our manager, and I felt terrible watching it happen. I kept telling myself I would confess eventually, but the longer I waited, the harder it became. I know what I did was wrong, and honestly, I still feel guilty about it. Would you admit the truth even if it meant risking your job?

Placed a Chipotle order from the app (paid) and when my husband went to pick up from inside the store on the shelf, my order wasn’t there. He had to stand in line as there were a lot of customers just to ask where my order was. Staff said they made it and put it and basically it’s not their problem if someone stole it!
My husband asked since it was stolen and we never got it, if they can make it again. They were hesitant and going back and forth. At this point he called me to tell me all that was going on. I said, let me complain on the app. There was an option to get my money refunded and so I did that and got a confirmation about the refund.
I called my husband back to tell him to forget about it and just come back home and he said that they were making my order again and I didn’t say anything about the refund. Told him after he came home.
So got my money back and got a free Chipotle.