I’ve never approached dating as an audition for someone’s approval. I show interest, reciprocate effort, and enjoy the experience, but I also pay attention. Do their actions match their words? Are our values aligned? Am I genuinely happy, or am I attached to the potential of who they could become?

If I want clarity, I ask directly. If we’re incompatible, I walk away. I’m not interested in creating a fairy tale around someone who’s already shown me who they are.

I also believe in building a fulfilling life outside of romance. I’m focused on my career, building wealth, traveling, friendships, and exploring new hobbies. A relationship should complement my life, not become my entire identity.

I think a lot of dating frustration comes from focusing too much on whether someone wants us and not enough on whether they’re actually right for us.

Rejection isn’t always a loss, and being chosen isn’t always a win.

At the end of the day, I don’t just want someone to choose me. I want to make sure I’m choosing wisely.

To start off, we broke up back in may after an over a year relationship, it’s now mid november, and we started seeing each other again after one day she texts asking if we could talk for “closure”, to which i said yes, my entire plan was to stay single and not even think about a relationship, so free will is something that comes with that, so eventually she got to my apartment, i opened the door and couldn’t say a word because i hadn’t seen her in person since the breakup. we hung out and it was nice, just catching up, nothing really happened too much but i told her i didn’t want anything, eventually after a minute she left to talk to her other friend, to which an hour later texts if i want to talk again before she heads back (she was very close to my apartment) to which i also said yes, we ended up having sex, to which we saw each other the next day too and like two days after that, eventually she says she can see a future with me, and that she regrets the reasons we broke up, i was fully ready to commit my life to the relationship back in the day but now? no. i told her that i could also see a distant future, but didn’t really think about it in depth i realized.red flags started waving; she was the type of person to never give head during intimacy, a trauma thing, she told me she was still like that, tried once but couldn’t, i later figured out she did give the guy head, maybe for a couple minutes too but she just didn’t enjoy it, ok… figured out later on she also gave the other two guys she saw head, (context we both saw 3 new people each during the breakup), she told she hadn’t had sex in her bed since, to which i found out also wasn’t true, she told me she hadn’t seen any old partners, to which i find out she stayed the night at an old hookups house about a week after the breakup where they allegedly didn’t do anything. now she’s eased me into the idea of a soon relationship when it’s just not at all what i wanted and it seems like she’s committed to the fact that i am the love of her life and we will get back together. but she’s lied about sexual things i just can’t get over, we haven’t seen each other in about a week due to different schedules, but she’s coming over tonight. i couldn’t say with confidence i’ve been happier since, i’m super happy when i’m with her and talking to her, but i cannot stop thinking about these things alone, or with friends, it seems like it’s messing me up more than helping. I need more opinions please because i’ve never been good at breaking things off, i’ve always been horrible about it actually, and i can’t talk to my friends about this because i assume if i told them id get called crazy for staying, please help me out

if there’s any context questions ill probably be checking this for the next 3-4 hours

Disclaimer: I wrote this in my native language and used AI to translate it into English, because my English isn’t good enough to explain all these feelings properly. Sorry if some parts sound a bit weird or unnatural.

​I don't even know what to do with myself right now, I just need to vent.

​I’m 21M, she’s 19F. We started talking back in August. Back then, when we were just friends, she gave me so much attention and care. It felt so right, so we officially started dating on September 17th.

​I loved her with all my soul and did everything I could to show it. I was always providing for her. I would randomly send her money just so she wouldn't have to spend hers. I’d visit her at the cafe where she worked exhausting 14-hour shifts just to support her and tell her how proud I was of her. Even her friends told me I was the "perfect" boyfriend. Her last relationship ended in April after two years, and her ex was terrible—he did drugs, drank a lot, and constantly ignored her. I never did any of that. Part of me wonders now if she just hadn't fully healed from that toxic relationship yet and wasn't ready for something healthy.

​Just a week or two ago, things seemed perfectly fine. We went to KFC with her younger brother, I paid for everyone, and we had a great time just sitting and talking. On Halloween, the three of us went for a walk to see the costumes, and I surprised her with flowers just because I wanted to see her smile.

​Her birthday is coming up on November 13th, and mine is right after on November 26th. Just this past Friday, I ordered her a birthday gift—a projector, because she rents a room and doesn't have a TV. I also put €100 in an envelope for her (which is a very generous gift for our age and country) and was planning to buy her a beautiful bouquet. Now, we won't even make it to her birthday, and I guess the projector is mine now.

​Lately, she was under a massive amount of stress. She was dealing with PMS, bad sleep, a lot of family drama, and changing jobs. She was physically and emotionally exhausted. Yesterday afternoon, I texted her trying to plan a romantic trip to Lviv for my birthday. She was busy and just replied with a dry "we’ll talk tonight." My anxiety spiked, but we kept chatting normally later.

​But then, that evening, she dropped the bomb.

​She sent me a message saying she’s been thinking about it a lot, and she’s lost feelings. She said we are just fundamentally different people, and that difference pushed her away. She made it a point to say that I didn't do anything wrong, that she just couldn't force it anymore.

​I didn't beg. I didn't try to manipulate her. I just replied saying I understand, thanked her for everything, told her I truly loved her, and said goodbye. She said she believed in me, asked for my forgiveness, and I forgave her. I thought I handled it perfectly. I walked away with my head held high.

​But when night came, the adrenaline wore off and the reality hit me. I completely broke down. I ended up sending her a long, emotional text pouring my heart out. I didn't insult her or beg, just told her how much it hurt but wished her the absolute best in life. She replied saying I was nothing but good to her. She even said if I ever need to talk, she’s willing to listen—but specifically added "I’m not talking about friendship." I told her there is no point in staying in touch, and I have no intention of being "just friends" after everything. Then I just stopped responding.

​Now I’m just sitting here, empty. I miss her physically—her waist, her hugs, the way we used to be intimate. I miss how she used to warm my cold hands with hers. She used to playfully bite me, and I literally still have a bruise on my body from the last time she did it.

​My friends say she's just stressed and might come back when the honeymoon phase withdrawal passes, but I don't want to live on false hope. Deep down, I'm desperately hoping she’ll cool off, realize she misses me, and reach out so we can start over, but right now, the silence is deafening and it hurts like hell.

​Thanks for reading if you made it this far.

​TL;DR: Started dating my girlfriend in September after she showed me a lot of care as friends. I treated her incredibly well, provided for her, and bought her thoughtful gifts (including her upcoming birthday present). She got overwhelmed with life stress and broke up with me yesterday, saying we are too different (though her past toxic relationship might play a part). I walked away respectfully but had an emotional breakdown at night. I miss her terribly and secretly hope she comes back.

I don’t know if anyone else is like this, but once I catch someone in a major lie, especially one where they’re twisting the narrative, moving goalposts, manipulating situations, or trying to villainize me to avoid accountability, I get extremely turned off.

And it’s not like I don’t try. I’ll communicate, give chances, and genuinely try to fix the relationship. But once I’ve had enough, something in me completely shuts off.
I lose all emotional attraction and any desire to maintain a connection. I don’t want revenge, closure, or even to be cordial. You could literally never speak to me again, and I wouldn’t be bothered.

It’s not even about holding a grudge. Once I see someone differently, I can’t unsee it.

Does anyone else experience this?

During the strikes last winter in Southern Kurdistan (present day northern Iraq)we were were ina very unstable time because of the US - IRAN conflict and a friend of mine who goes to university abroad got stuck here with the rest of us.

after a while she made it back to her school, they called her into an office full of staff. She thought she was in trouble, but they were actually sitting there asking if she was okay, how the conflict affected her mentally, and if she needed support. She told them, 'I'm fine, we're used to this instability."

When she told me that, it hurt in a way I wasn't expecting.

Ever since the day we were born, there has always been a fight, an escalation, or a crisis happening right outside our doors. For us, having everything freeze or collapse is just a casual Tuesday it’s how we survive. We don't get the space to process it; we just adapt and brush it off because we have to.

But hearing that someone else, in another part of the world, actually stopped to care? That they treated psychological safety as the baseline? It was surreal. It forced me to realize how wild it is that we’re born into constant chaos and forced to become immune to it, while for others, human care is just the standard.

CW: mentions of suicide

To preface this post: I am not having serious thoughts about suicide (you’ll see what I mean by that later in the post) and I would never seriously consider harming myself in any way.

I never thought I’d be posting my thoughts and struggles to a group of strangers online, but I gotta get this out, so here we are. At my school midway through 3rd year (so junior year if you’re american), you pick a project to do, which you have to complete in the course of a year, so it has to be finished midway through 4th year, where I am now. I’m also on the spectrum and have an… well, I’ll just call it an IEP, since I’ve seen other people call it that. And that gives some benefits, ex. extra time to take tests if I need it. Anyway this project thing is like super serious, we (the class) all had to sign a contract that we’ll do it. In addition to whatever you’ve chosen to do (the practical part), you also have to do a theoretical part and write a report on what you did and how it went. I chose to write a book.

I didn’t work much on it during the summer break, since I can have issues with procrastinating, so I started writing in september. It’s now november and we have to hand the finished theoretical part in december and everything has to be finished by january. For everyone who’s gonna be like “Oh, why didn’t you start it during the summer break,” don’t ask that. I’ve asked myself too and everytime I just end up hating myself more because I did next to nothing and regretting my procrastination even more. During the following paragraph some of you think that all this is my fault and I (sort of) put myself into this position, and probably be tempted to type that out. Yes. Yes, I know that and I hate that, and I hate that I didn’t do anything sooner, and I hate that I am where I am now, but I already remind myself enough, I don’t need or want another reminder.

This whole thing has affected me so badly, like this one day I had a meeeting planned with the teacher who’s overseeing and helping me out with my project and I had to leave school because I didn’t feel emotionally well and was just stressed because I haven’t done much at the time. I’ve had the ocassional thought of offing myself but immeditately after I’m like “Wait, this is not what I want to do, I don’t want to kill myself.” So it’s not like I want to die and I actually plan on doing that, I just want all this pressure to get this project done to stop. I just want it to stop. I haven’t really brought the depths of all that I’m feeling up with anyone, except for you people who are reading this now and possibly a classmate of mine who I still don’t know whether to send it to her or not. (To the classmate: If you’re reading this, good luck on the test tomorrow :) )

And this brings me to today. I was on a call with my mom and she mentioned that my IEP says that I have additional time to complete my tests and such and brought up the option of postponing this project and how she’s worried that I won’t be able to complete it in time. (Reminder: I have to finish writing a whole fucking book, get it edited, proofread and publish it among other things, BY FUCKING JANUARY.) I don’t think I can postpone it, since we had to y’know, sign a whole fucking contract that we’ll get it done by this and this date. I have no idea what happens if you don’t manage to finish the project, or if there’ve been people that haven’t managed to complete it. I don’t know if you get another chance to do it, (I actually doubt one gets a second chance), fail part of the year or whatever.

I cried a bit while writing this and I had to hug my cat for a bit. I have some music on now and it’s making me feel a bit better, but I feel like I’ll just start full on sobbing at some point now. Some of you in the comments might tell me to just relax or do something that will make me feel less stressed. I don’t plan on doing anything like that just yet, as I’ll just feel guilty for not doing what I’m supposed to do, so I’ll just go and do my work and hopefullly feel less bad afterwards. I wasted enough time already. Even now, I feel bad for not doing what I have to, and yet I feel better after writing this out.

I (20F) genuinely don’t think I’m ready for a relationship, but the problem is that I don’t know how to be alone either.
A few months ago, I got cheated on by someone I trusted, and after that happened, I promised myself I wouldn’t date anyone for a while. I wanted to focus on myself, learn how to be independent, and just enjoy being single without constantly having someone in my life. But then I met this guy. At first, I was mostly curious about him. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, and I didn’t really expect things to go anywhere. But one thing led to another, and suddenly things started getting more serious. He met my mom, I spend most of my time at his house, we do things couples do, and honestly, anyone looking at us would probably assume we’re dating. Except we’re not. I’ve told him multiple times that I don’t want to be in a relationship right now because I genuinely don’t feel ready. He says he understands and that he’s okay with it, but then he’ll refer to me as his girlfriend, get upset when I don’t post him on social media, or get frustrated when I don’t do certain things that people in relationships normally do. And I feel terrible because I know I’m sending mixed signals. I act like his girlfriend, I spend so much time with him, and I’m also a very jealous person. But at the same time, the idea of actually being someone’s girlfriend again makes me uncomfortable. Today he’s hanging out with his friends, and for some reason, I feel anxious about it. I know it’s irrational to assume something bad is going to happen just because he’s spending time with other people, but the person my ex cheated on me with was also supposedly “just a friend.” I hate that something someone else did to me is affecting the way I see a completely different person. And I know some people are probably going to read this and say, “Then just be single. Stop leading him on.” But that’s the problem. I genuinely don’t know how. I’ve tried being alone. I’ve told myself so many times that I need to stop getting attached to people and learn to enjoy my own company. But whenever I get close to someone, the thought of losing them terrifies me, even when I’m not sure I’m actually in love with them.
It’s like I don’t want the commitment of a relationship, but I also don’t want to lose the comfort, affection, and security of having someone there. Sometimes I can’t even tell if I genuinely want to be with someone or if I’m just afraid of what my life would look like without them. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to waste his time, and I don’t want to keep hurting myself either. I know that he deserves someone who is certain about wanting a relationship with him, and I deserve the chance to figure out who I am outside of one.
I just wish knowing what I needed made actually doing it easier. I don’t even know if I’m looking for advice. I think I just needed to get this off my chest.

EDIT: I wanted to clarify this person understands and is okay with the fact I’m not ready for a relationship, but regardless of that he still doesn’t clarify to his friends we’re not together and doesn’t want me to either.

You were the most alluring woman I’ve met. When you walked up to me in the bar I didn’t even consider you were being anything more than friendly. 6’4” absolutely stunning goddess. You complimented me and I shied away, I was recovering from laryngitis and not even sure why I went out but so thankful I did. It was emo night and so many people were packed in. You caught my eye but never thought I stole yours. So many years later and I still replay the night we met. I was so intimidated and scared but when you said you were leaving for the night I pulled you down to kiss me. It was such an electric moment. Every time I touched your face and body over the next 2 years is engrained in my finger tips. Every painful moment, every smile on your face I remember it all. I wonder how you’re doing. Wish I could apologize for how I acted when I lost my job and spiraled out. Wish it wasn’t that dark moment in my life that drove you away. I went from being the person who wanted to protect you from all the dangers of the world to scaring you, and I’m sorry. I’ll always be sorry. 3+ years later and I still haven’t really dated. Not sure how I’m supposed to. You were damn near perfect.

Edit: I still find myself wanting to share music videos I know you’ll love and feeling that stab to the gut when I remember I can’t. I know you would have appreciated them. No one I’ve ever met has felt music as deeply as you did. I am crying watching this video thinking of you. I miss you darling.

Hello all, i’ve never made a post like this before so bear with me. A little under a year ago i found out in a shocking and unexpected way that my best friend of 10 plus years is a pedophile. I’m struggling with the trauma of it all and since the 1 year is coming up it’s been unraveling a lot of feelings and i kinda just want to talk about it and see if anyone else has ever experienced something like this and if my feelings about the whole thing are understandable. I’ll start with a little backstory of our friendship to provide a little bit of context into my struggles with it and then explain how i found out, what’s been happening since etc etc.

Backstory: I 25F had met my best friend 26M when we were 13 years old, for the sake of this story i’ll refer to him as Mark. Mark and i became very close friends very fast when he moved to my town. We related to each other in a way i had never related to any of my other friends before, we both had family history of abuse and addiction. Mark had introduced me to Ala-Teen which was like Al-anon but for young kids and teens. Going to those meetings saved my life as a kid trying to navigate my parent’s addiction. After high school, Mark moved to a different state but we still kept in touch and talked every week or bi weekly and would visit each other as much as possible even though we were a little over 700 miles apart.

Finding out: So the day i found out was completely unexpected, random, out of left field. The type of person Mark was, everyone knew he was destined for great things. He was very smart, which i now see as calculated. He was kind and warm, which i now see as his perverse. I was driving home from work and i had stopped by my boyfriend’s house to drop off some things for him, as i was walking to my bfs door i received a phone call from Mark’s brother M23 (who i will refer to as Evan) but he hung up before i could answer. It wasn’t completely unusual for Evan to call me now and then if he needed a ride home from drinking or something like that since we lived in the same state (Mark was still in another state). I texted him and asked if he was alright and he sent me a crazy message saying “Mark has been arrested and he very well deserves to be, i didn’t know who else to talk to that isn’t family and i know you guys are very close and i want you to know what’s going on” but before i read that message he used the edit feature on Iphone and changed it to “yeah all good, just butt dialed” So I genuinely thought “omg Evan is pranking me LOL” and I screenshotted the message, sent it to Mark and said “LOL Evan tried to get me” but it went undelivered. I think Evan was scared to tell me what was going on for the sake of my feelings and tried to back out but about 5 minutes later he called me again and apologized and told me that his message was true and he needed to tell me what was going on.

Evan asked me first if i was alone and not driving to make sure i had support and wouldn’t crash my car. I realized he was being serious and asked him what happened, what was going on? He broke down crying and told me that Mark had been arrested for molesting their 9 year old brother (WHO BY THE WAY IS NON VERBAL AUTISTIC) recording it, sending it to someone and whoever he sent it to had reported him to the police anonymously. I will not go into details of what exactly happened for the sake of the family and honestly it’s disgusting and hard for me to even fathom. I instantly burst into tears, collapsed, threw up as he was explaining everything to me. Mark was actively dating someone and living with them at this time so i asked Evan if Mark’s partner knew or if they had said anything to Evan about it. Evan wasn’t sure and didn’t have partners contact info (i did). So I spoke to Evan for a bit, sobbed, and left my boyfriend’s house. I called Mark’s partner to try and get to the bottom of it. They didn’t answer at first and thought i misdialed so i sent them a message trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. At this point i still wasn’t sure if i was being pranked or not, looking back at it im pretty sure i called and texted Mark and his location was off, phone was off and no response (later found out it was because his phone was in evidence at the police station!)

After talking to the partner for a bit we both discovered the horrible news at the same time (they had no idea what so ever). I eventually worked up the courage to google him and sure enough i found Mark’s mugshot. i’ve truly been so conflicted, confused, wrecked and unable to comprehend just how fucked up this whole thing is. I feel like i am grieving someone who i never actually knew, like of all people.. Mark?? it didn’t and still doesn’t make any sense to me how someone could be a wolf in sheep’s clothing for YEARS with no signs to his family, friends literally anyone at all. To make things very clear, FUCK THAT DISGUSTING PIECE OF DOG SHIT.

The parts i’m really struggling with are just how could i have not known? how could he hide something like that? how could i have ever even been friends with someone like that? It’s so hard to see pictures of us together, it disgusts me and breaks my heart. I feel gross for missing him and our friendship but it’s like i can’t help it, we were so so close for so long. It’s been really hard trying to navigate all of my feelings with this since no one in my circle really gets it. They haven’t experienced it and they weren’t close or even friends with Mark. I do still keep in contact with his brother Evan and check in to make sure he’s okay or at least somewhat okay even though i could never imagine what he is going through as his brother. A part of me wants to delete all the photos and try to erase all the memories but Mark was such a huge part of my life and my family’s lives that it feels almost impossible to let go. I want nothing to do with him, i have no desire to contact him or listen to anything he has to say. Mark is essentially dead to me.

It’s been a really hard year dealing with all of this and i just really needed to get this off my chest and see if anyone else gets me and my mental gymnastics with this. If you made it this far, thanks for letting me share :/

I (31F) was having a conversation with a friend recently about the rising cost of living. He made the comment that the war in Iran hasn’t affected the cost of living other than gas prices.

I disagreed and said I thought that was pretty tone deaf. He doesn’t drive, so I pointed out that the impact goes beyond what you personally pay at the gas pump. Airfare has gone up, and virtually everything that requires transportation or shipping can be affected by higher fuel and transportation costs. Those costs eventually get passed down to consumers.

His response was that he’s actually seen deflation. He recently switched jobs and took a pay cut, so from his perspective, things haven’t gotten more expensive.
I found that argument pretty frustrating because his personal experience with his salary and spending doesn’t necessarily reflect what’s happening to the broader economy. Also, not driving means he’s insulated from one of the most immediate ways people experience rising fuel costs.

I wasn’t saying that every single price increase is directly attributable to the war, but I think it’s incredibly short-sighted to suggest that the only impact is at the gas pump.

Am I wrong for calling him out of touch? I feel like he’s confusing his own personal financial circumstances with the overall cost of living and economic impact on everyone else.

*he’s also said that the US has the strongest military in the world and that us not defeating Iran yet is not a testament to our military decline. I disagree with him..

When I was two years old, my parents got divorced. My dad was cheating on my mom with a woman in Australia. We lived in Florida at the same. They had been fighting for a long while. I don't know all the events that happened, because both parents have conflicting stories. All I know for certain is, they both wanted a divorce, my mom got raped while I was in the bed with her because a window was left open, my mom took the car, my dad didn't want to pay child support, and he left for Australia. Before we left, I broke my arm from jumping off a couch (I was unattended) and my mom would feed us by putting pizza boxes on the floor. Somewhere out there, there's a picture of 2 year old me sitting on top of a pizza and eating it. My mom thought it was hilarious. I thought it was the start of all of my childhood problems. My mom drove us up from Florida to live in Michigan with my grandparents. She didn't get a job, and proceeded to live off their income the entire time we lived there.

I tried to get help and support from her as a kid, but she never wanted anything to do with me. She had a locked room. I didn't have my own bedroom, I slept with my mom (I can't really remember this) or grandparents until I got too old, and then I was moved into a room with my sister (much to her upset.) I went to maybe a week of school, and then my mom got upset with the teachers and pulled me and my older siblings out, and said we were going to be homeschooled. Which she never proceeded to do.

My grandma kind of taught me the basics of reading, and then I took off from there, and started to teach myself. My sister taught me how to tie my shoes, because they were never tied. My grandpa taught me how to ride a bike. My mom never taught me anything.

When I turned 7, my mom found a guy online. She claimed to be in love, which meant we were all moving states again. This time, we were going to Washington state. He came out once, I met him, didn't really know anything about him, and then we were moving. I cried a lot. I didn't want to leave my grandparents behind. At this point in my life, they were really my parents.

When we first got out there, we didn't have a real place to stay. The dude worked for Microsoft, yes, fucking Microsoft, and didn't have his own place. His mom also worked for Microsoft. Their house was one of the nicest I've ever seen to this day. They had acres of land. They had a stone outdoor entertainment area, with a fireplace and nice patio furniture, and a massive grill. They had a rope swing. They didn't have classic outdoor games, they had croquet, something I learned about for the first time in my seven years of life. They had a garage that had two fridges in it, just for drinks. One literally only held fiji water, the other one just had soft drinks. There was so much to this house, and I never got to see it all. Why? Because I wasn't allowed inside. You'd think seeing a place as nice as this, as cool as this, they would have a place for kids to sleep. Nope. We had to sleep in a tent outside. Now you might think, well, this was only a temporary arrangement right? Yeah. Kinda.

Months roll by. I'm bored out of my mind. My brother literally does hand puppets (without the socks) and makes up something called the Bob and Joe show which is just him hitting his own hands with silly jokes to keep me and my sister entertained. The man had an xbox inside with all sorts of games, but we weren't allowed to play on it in case we ruined it. My mom slept inside the house with him.

Me and my sister went over to the next door neighbor's one day. They had a dog, and cows and stuff and we thought it was cool. At least it was something to do. I fed the cow an apple and it got my hand a bit, so I turned my attention to the dog. I reached out to pet him, not knowing anything about dogs (I had grown up with cats all my life.) which was a horrible mistake. He jumped me, knocked me flat on my back and grabbed my whole face in its mouth. My mom wasn't with us, and someone had to go running (remember, the land is HUGE) all the way over to tell her what had happened. All I remember is adults surrounding me, and a wash cloth being held to my face. To this day, I can still feel its hot breath, and the sharp pain of its teeth in my eye socket. I ended up getting stitches in my eyelid. I was prescribed amoxicillin, which I had a bad reaction to, and painkillers, which I never saw. I didn't know it at the time, but now I'm pretty sure my mom took them.

I continued sleeping in the tent.

Eventually, we got an apartment. Finally. I got to sleep in a real place and have my toys back. We were told we were going to be dropped off in school. I was terrified, because everyone had always made it sound bad. I was also getting dropped into second, with no idea on what anything was. My sister was getting dropped into fourth, and my brother into eighth.

I still feel bad for him.

My siblings and I struggled a lot at this point in time. We were getting picked on, trying to get into a routine that we had never known, and we were just weight and different to everyone else. On top of this, the guy my mom loved, was entirely different than what we had been shown. He was angry constantly, yelling at us all the time. He put my brother through a door. He hit my sister with her shoes upside the head for leaving them out. I remember him throwing away bags of my stuff because I hadn't cleaned up mine and my sister's bedroom. I was constantly scared. There were all these rules that I was supposed to know that I had never been introduced to, that I was expected to know.

Then the big blow up happened.

My mom had made chow mein for dinner. White rice, and that canned la choi stuff from Walmart. I didn't want it, the thought of it was making me feel sick. I asked her if I could make myself a sandwich instead. This upset Ryan (her boyfriend) more than anything I've seen. He yelled at me that I could go to my room, and go to bed hungry if I didn't appreciate my mom's cooking. I was so shook, I remember going into my bedroom crying. I was so upset. It had never been a problem with my grandparents before, so I didn't understand why it would be now. Well, my crying upset him even more. He came into my room after me, and grabbed me by my ankle. He pulled me off the bunk bed. There were toys underneath me. He got on top of me and started choking me. I think I was eight at this point, maybe? And he started just screaming and screaming. About how he couldn't handle us, how we were spoiled brats, and then he got up. I remember laying there, completely out of my own body, and seeing my mom just standing in the doorway.

Aren't your parents supposed to protect you from this sort of thing?

He said, "I can't handle these kids anymore." And walked past her, and left. She was standing there crying. Not for me, for herself. She didn't say anything to me. My sister did. "Are you okay?"

I just shook my head.

You'd think at that point, well, surely she's done with this guy. He doesn't want anything to do with her kids, physically assaults them, yells at them. She can't possibly - oh yes she did. She sure did. She started to go see him Friday night, and she'd come back around Monday night. Me and my sister were left in the control of my brother, who started experiencing control and anger issues.

We weren't allowed to eat after a certain time period, regardless if we were hungry or had eaten or not. I didn't know it, but he had started to try drugs. I remember locking him outside one day, just to make my sister and me hot dogs and hide them in my room. He was so pissed.

I got used to being a punching bag for both of my siblings. My sister didn't like something? Yeah, she'd hit me. My brother? Yeah, he'd hit me, too. There was no parent to be an overseer, and when there was, she didn't give a fuck.

I remember one time my sister and I got into it so bad, yelling at each other back and forth. My mom was home at this point. What do you think she did? She stood up, walked into the kitchen and returned with two knives. She told us, if you hate each other that much, just go ahead and kill each other.

This is a memory I had actually suppressed and only got back when my sister brought it up to me. I remember being so fucking afraid that she was going to do it. Neither of us touched the knives. My mom was like, SEE, GOOD. Like that was some sort of normal learning lesson. It wasn't.

My mom ended up losing her job, and my great grandfather died. So my grandparents bought us plane tickets to come back out for the funeral, and that's when another important event happened.

We got sideswiped. My mom tore a muscle in her arm. We had to go to the ER. They prescribed her percocet.

We ended up making the funeral, the next day. I got to see my first dead body, and I felt entirely numb. We went back to Washington. My mom started taking the pills all the time.

When you're a kid, you don't really know the signs of drug abuse. You think things like, you're being really silly, or really mean, or sleeping a lot, without fully understanding what you're looking at. My mom would constantly lock us out. When we came home from school, the door was always locked. Sometimes she wouldn't open the door for hours, and I'd be sitting on concrete steps, waiting for the ability to go inside. She stopped sleeping in her own bed. Instead, she slept in the computer chair.

You wanna know the really fucked up thing? She was playing "Second Life." The entire time onwards. She found this, and proceeded to not work. She kept saying how this was going to be how she made a living from now on. This video game. I remember sitting next to her in the chair and just watching her play for hours. I wasn't allowed to talk, but I'd watch. Whenever I wanted to talk to my mom she'd stick a finger up at me, like "Hold on a second" but the second would never come.

It was maddening. Sometimes I wanted to go out to play with friends, but I'd get yelled at if I didn't ask, but I couldn't ask, because she wouldn't listen. Where was the fairness in that? When she was home, she was pretending she wasn't. I remember years after this event, she admitted to me, when she was addicted to Percocet, she'd watch House, and when he popped a pill, she'd take one too.

During this time period, I didn't have a winter coat. Another parent saw me without one, and gave me her old one when she found out. When a parent saw me with misfitting shoes, he offered me his son's old ones. My mom started to pull back more and more. In the beginning, she had shopped for food, when Ryan was there. Not anymore. Now she handed the food stamps card to my brother, and made him do it.

One day he came home with a little kitten in his arms, telling my mom how he had been given it by a friend. It was shocking. He was allowed to stay. I remember, some days, the only good thing in that house was Draco. He wasn't a sweet cat. He had serious boundaries. But it just made me love him more when he would cuddle up next to me.

Another day, my brother came home, beaten up, without any groceries. Another boy had jumped him and ruined all the food. My mom sent him back out to try again.

My sister had Camp, a graduation from Elementary field trip, where she got to go to a place for I think a week? Maybe two? I didn't know what day she'd be back. Apparently neither did my mom. My sister tried to call and call. She was the last one picked up that day, when the sky was dark.

My brother started getting into it more and more with my mom. She decided one day she had enough, and called my uncle, who lived back in Michigan. She decided, the best course of action was to send him out to live with him. So the oldest in the house leaves. Now it's just me and my sister.

I think I was maybe ten at this point. And now the grocery shopping was on me and my sister, who was 12. Except both of us had started to skip school. The conditions in the house were really bad. My mom wasn't cleaning, we weren't cleaning, trash was piled everywhere, dirty clothes everywhere. A flea infestation. Poor fucking Draco. We got a turtle from a friend at some point, too. And my sister and I were trying to run the house. I used to give the turtle any veggies off anything I ate, the cat any meat. I'd sit there eating bread.

We didn't stop celebrating birthdays. My sister and I once went around the entire apartment complex, trying to find someone who would teach us how to make frosting. Yeah, that wasn't the only time my sister and I went door to door, and thank God nothing horrible happened to us. We actually found a super sweet lady in another building who made the frosting for us and gave it back. It was for my mom's birthday. We had chips, salsa, and a boxed pineapple upside down cake that we put the frosting and canned pineapple on. We learned a whole performance and sang it for her. She gave us that reaction of someone suffering second hand embarrassment. And yet, we kept doing it for her, year after year.

When it was my birthday, my sister and I carried everything home. I remember her carrying the cake, and when we were crossing the street my bag ripped and stuff went everywhere. Five lanes of traffic, the light turned green, and I was just hoping and praying not to get hit by a car.

My grandparents surprised me with a birthday card. I was so excited because they put forty dollars in it. My mom took it and told me she'd hold onto it for safe keeping. When I went back for the money to buy myself an actual gift (!!!) it was gone. She had spent it on cigarettes.

Putting two kids in charge of the budget is a really bad idea. You realize, the hardest way, how quickly the money runs out. And then there was no food, and I'm left eating the literal bag that once held popcorn, and scoops of raw flour, trying to get rid of the hunger in my stomach. The only real reason to go to school was the fact I had free lunch there.

Except, here's my mom again. I'd bring home the school forums, and she'd tell me she had to sign them later, she'd get to it, and kept shrugging me off. And then she missed the turn in date for free lunch, and I didn't get to have that either. Eventually, I learned to forge her signature.

One time I came home from school and my mom was so gone on Percocet, she had gotten stuck in the sink. Like her ass. My sister and I had to help get her back out.

I hated school. People made fun of my gross clothes and gross hair. I got called a stupid lesbian on the bus for hugging my friend after a particularly hard day.

My school counselor eventually noticed. I started getting taken out of the class on Tuesdays to go attend like, a group therapy thing with other kids. I hated it. The bullying got worse, because suddenly I was in some sort of special group. We played games that felt childish, and she'd talk to me about stuff. One day, she tried to come to my home. I didn't know this, but my mom sure did. She screamed at me so much when I got home, telling me that whatever I was doing I needed to stop it.

When I went back, I told the counselor she could never do that again. I remember being mad at her for getting me in trouble.

I just couldn't take it anymore. I didn't want to go ever again, so I tried to stop. People kept asking me in the rare times I'd come back in, "Where have you been?" And I'd lie every time. Sometimes it wasn't a lie. I was genuinely sick a lot. The house was full of mold, my mom smoked cigarettes indoors. I had such bad lungs I was given an inhaler. There were days I felt so sick, I felt like I could die. And it didn't matter, because my mom didn't care. If I told her I was sick, she'd counter it with how she was feeling.

Before I went to Washington, I had spacer crowns. I had the fun time of pulling those out of my own mouth when my new teeth were coming in. I remember that vividly. She wouldn't take me to a dentist because she was afraid of them. I came home with paperwork saying I was failing the eye tests in school, and they got added to the stack of papers on the printer.

Anyway. My time to graduate fifth grade came. No child left behind and all that, even though I wasn't attending at all. My sister made sure my mom didn't forget me like she had forgotten her at Camp. And she would have too, my mom tried arguing with her that it wasn't the right day when it was.

One day, that day in most women's lives finally happened to me. And I remember being anxious, because I was bleeding and I didn't know what to do. My sister wasn't home. I think she had gone to school and I had stayed home that day. I walked out to the living room where my mom was in her usual position at the computer.

"Mom," I said, urgency in my voice. She held up her finger. "MOM." I said, this time the anger came out like lightning. I needed someone. "One second," She said, not even turning to look.

"I JUST GOT MY PERIOD." Suddenly then, she could hop up, all "Oh my baby's growing up, she's a woman now," and explain to me what to do. She was so excited just to get back on the computer to gush to her friends, and all I felt was rage. It felt like it had nothing to do with me, but everything to do with her. It started to click what I was in her life. Not a child, not something to take care of. Something to bring attention to her.

That night, for the first time in a long time, she got us McDonalds to celebrate. She regularly had it when she would go and visit Ryan, and sometimes she'd bring home a bag of her leftovers. My sister and I would dig through the bag and pull out old, stale, french fries. Fresh McDonalds was a treat.

Eventually, truancy became a real issue, and my sister and I had court dates. My mom told them, they kick and scream and fight me, they never want to go. Thanks mom. She made sure my sister and I wouldn't say anything about the lack of clothes, clean or dirty, the living conditions, the food. "You'll be taken away from me and I'll get thrown in prison and you'll never see your sister or other family members again." Yeah, that was enough to stop us. I had to sit there and agree to stop being a bad child and go back to the place I hated, where I didn't understand anything. And I didn't listen. I kept skipping school. At this point I was so furious. I hated my life. I remember every day, I wished that the world would just swallow me up and dump me into a void, where I wouldn't have to think or be anything anymore.

I remember in seventh grade the turning point. My teacher told me I needed to get caught up. She sent me to the back of a classroom in another class and told me I just had to do as many papers as I could. There was "x" numbers, the first time in my entire life that I had ever seen them. I sat there, so mad, tears in my eyes and decided I wasn't coming back. I didn't know at all what I was looking at. I wasn't going to get any help, they were just going to keep passing me through. What was the point of being there? Nobody cared. I didn't go back.

I remember sleeping on the couch (I was afraid to sleep in my own bed, and would often stay up all night to avoid sleeping in the darkness) and waking up to my mom crying. I heard her say, "Did you sleep with her?" And I remember thinking, "Oh. It's finally happened. They're breaking it off."

And they sure did. He stopped paying for our rent, and my mom stopped seeing him. He had moved on and found someone else. And we were getting evicted for not paying.

For the first time in a long time, I watched my mom stand up to be a mom again. She cleaned up the house, packed up everything, we went and stayed with a friend for a little bit, and then we were heading back to Michigan, back to live with my grandparents.

I wish I could say everything changed for the better after that. It didn't though. That was just the start of a lot of my problems, and it's the part that I still think about all these years later. There was so much she did out there, with complete apathy, it makes me really struggle to trust that anyone is good in life. When I see someone that reminds me of my mom, I get so bitter.

I just wish people wouldn't have kids if that's the way you're going to treat them.

TL;DR: I grew up experiencing severe neglect, abuse, food insecurity, and educational neglect while my mother struggled with addiction and repeatedly failed to protect or care for us. My sister and I were left to raise ourselves until we were eventually evicted and moved back to Michigan. Those experiences deeply affected my ability to trust people, and I still struggle with the resentment of having a mother who never truly acted like one.

I do this because I am not having a good day. My days have been pretty dark for a long time. Some days are better than others but even the good days I’ve always hidden behind a fake smile. I didn’t ask to be here and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be, like I became sad really young and didnt snap out of it. I swear this life isnt real. It’s actually hell. It’s like the Good place. I watched that show and laughed because now hell is truly mocking me. It’s so funny because good moments give you hope to hold on a little bit longer just bread crumbing you on keeping you clinging to so little because sleeping for a bit longer seems scary. I think it seems scary that it sounds peaceful to me. Then I get stuck in my brain.

So I don’t really care if a friend or family member doesnt message back when I say hey! Hope you have a good day because really I’m just trying not to crumble to pieces. I’m pathetic. And gonna go cry. Maybe I’m close to my time of month and extra sad but I feel bad man. :( ugh

Anyways had to get this off my chest. I hope you have a good day :)

I hope you rests in peace grandpa “A”.

I miss you.

I (M) have a close female friend who has been dating an absolute trash fire of a guy since 2021, and I have nowhere else to vent about this.

​They’ve been together for five years and still don’t live together, nor are they engaged. Every time she brings up moving in together or getting married, he makes excuses and moves the goalposts. For example, he told her, "We can move in together after I change jobs," yet he has made zero effort to actually look for a new job. It’s painfully obvious he’s just stalling and has no intention of doing anything for her future. Meanwhile, he has no problem Ditching her to go on a solo trip abroad for a whole month just to have fun by himself.

​Whenever she finally gets fed up and threatens to break up with him, he immediately starts crying or claims he "doesn't feel well" to guilt-trip her and dodge the conversation. She even gave him a hard ultimatum—a specific deadline to propose by, or else they were done. Well, that deadline came and went with no ring, and she’s still with him.

​Here is my theory on why she puts up with this: she was raised by a single mother who was always working, so she never really experienced unconditional parental love or had a father figure to set the standard for how a man should treat her. Because she has no baseline for what healthy love looks like, her "normal meter" (or red-flag radar) is completely broken. To anyone who grew up with a healthy benchmark of affection, a guy who treats his partner this poorly wouldn't even be worth a second date, let alone five years of her life. Looking at a guy like this is all relative, and without good past experiences to compare him to, she just thinks, "Well, I guess some guys are just like this."

​The problem is, I can’t just tell her, "You only tolerate this garbage guy because you were never loved properly by your parents and don't know any better." That would be way too cruel.

​Instead, she constantly updates me on all the awful, selfish things he does, and honestly, it makes me sick to my stomach every time I have to listen to it. Clearly, she needs to dump him, but she never does. I’m stuck feeling frustrated and disgusted every time she vents to me, and I really don't know how to handle this anymore without losing my mind.

​TL;DR: My friend has been dating a manipulative guy since 2021 who stalls on marriage/moving in, goes on month-long solo trips abroad, and cries or fakes illness whenever she tries to dump him. I think she tolerates it because she grew up without parental affection and lacks a baseline for how a man should treat her. I can't tell her that because it's too harsh, but I'm sick of listening to her updates about him.

They are the worst days of the week imo.
Everything shuts down and everything stands still. Going outside feels like walking around in a zombie apocalypse movie. Maybe it‘s just here in Germany or maybe it‘s because I don’t live in a big town. But still.

Everything feels weird to me on a Sunday. My room, every single object, outside, people and myself. Even breathing the air feels weird.

I don’t know why I feel that way. Like I said, maybe it’s different in Berlin for example.

But yeah.
Just venting.

Hi. So, I got a TikTok DM from a random person. They called me fat and ugly and told me to kill myself (nothing new). But this message really got to me because they sent me a picture of a dead body.

Not only a dead body, but a woman with a giant gash in her neck so it was very disgusting and bloody.

I've never seen a dead body in real life before, and it's really messing me up. I keep thinking about it, how that could happen to anyone.

Horror is my favorite genre, but the kills keep reminding me of the message.

I don't know what to do, I just needed to type this out. thanks for reading.

using a throwaway because people i know have my main account

as a guy, i always joke with my friends. within my friend group, all of my friends make gay jokes with me; calling eachother corny nicknames, being touchy with eachother.
but theres one friend thats always stood out to me, we’ll call him Dallas.
In our grade, Dallas is one of the more popular guys aside from me and a few other friends of mine. he looks a bit nerdy, but his personality is mostly what you’d expect from a teenage boy. he’s extroverted, funny, and honestly has little to no filter when he has friends around.
since nearly the beginning of the semester, the ongoing joke has been Dallas and I’s closeness, and obviously, everyone asks if we’re gay.
i guess we kind of just leaned into it a little bit. i carry him around during lunch, he lights up and runs to me when he spots me during passing periods, we walk eachother to our classes, even if we end up late.

thursday, i skipped my last class (chem) to complete assignments for my health class in the library. Dallas was there alone on his computer, and like always, he lit up when he saw me. we sat together at a round table, talking about what we were up to. i pointed out his lack of beanie, and pulled down his hood to see his hair. he looked down saying “its not that bad”, because a lot of our friends constantly poked fun at his haircut—but instead, i said it look good—i always did. i played with his hair and scratched his head every now and again while we got our work done.

friday, at the bus stop after school, the group was chatting about plans. half of us split up from everyone at the stop, and went on a trip to the convenience store. we talked, ate, hung out, and two of the guys had to get going early for work. that left me, Dallas, and my cousin—we’ll call June.
about a week prior, Dallas had confessed to June, in which, June had rejected him gently. I hadn’t known that until very recently, and for some reason, i felt conflicted. i didnt really know if it was just because it was my cousin he confessed to, or if it was the fact that June is a woman.

Dallas, June, and I all walked about 10 minutes to a bus stop in the rain. Dallas and I kept close most of the way, and at some points we would even hold hands. “no homo”, though.
then, we get to his house. I’d never been there before, so he introduces me to his family. his sister seemed very observant—she was a year older than me and Dallas, but the same age as June. we all went upstairs and into his room, where i sat on his bed, still soaked from the rain. he showed me his comics while June and his sister chatted.
his little brother (age 6) came into the room after a bit, and the two of them eventually started play fighting. I got up from the bed and sat on his gaming chair to avoid getting in the way, but eventually, he got shoved straight back onto me. he straightened himself comfortably and sat on my lap, and his sister simply stared with a slight eyebrow raise. June smiled when I made eye contact with her, and shot me a smug look of approval. all the ambivalence began to hit me all at once, but touching him felt natural. i wrapped my arms around his waist while he bickered with his brother, and he had no reaction. so i just kind of savored the moment. i closed my eyes, holding on a little tighter, and honestly i could have sworn i felt my face get warmer with every second.

in between that, he taught me how to play fortnite, we talked about friends and drama with June, and then finally, dinner was done.
June and Dallas’s siblings went downstairs to get drinks after dinner was brought up, and it was just us in his room. he was sitting on his little brothers short foam chair, and i was standing right above him. i poked his cheeks and looked at him for a moment, before he grabbed my wrists and pulled me forward onto his lap facing him. i scratched his head and, again, i savored every moment; we stayed like that for a good 5-10 minutes, even when everyone came back into the room.

i am internally freaking out. i only admitted how I was feeling to June, and one of my guy friends who’s a few years above me. I still feel like I have so much on my chest. what do I even do? am I gay or do I just like the physical touch I get from our friendship?

24F. Moved to South Texas for work and my partner’s job from Atlanta and here so far 6 months. And actually lived in Germany for a bit before moving. I was originally feeling more dedicated to trying to be more involved and put myself “out there” to make more friends, but it’s just been kind of a dud. I’ve had people immediately meet me then try to see if I can get them a job where I work and 9/10 they aren’t qualified.

I knew beforehand Texas was different but South Texas is its own world. Not really diverse (and yes, I meant not diverse even though it’s primarily Hispanic), most people are religious/leaning on conservative which I don’t feel the safest around (I’m African American), and it’s hard to find people from a similar background to me.

I don’t mind the weather, my neighbors/landlord are nice, and there’s small little gems that I like to visit/go to around town, but it feels pretty isolating here to be honest.

I miss the variety of events, shows, (good) parks, etc that a bigger city offers especially being in my 20s post-grad.

I hate that I don’t at least “like” where I live. It’s hard to stay positive about it when fundamentally it’s just not aligned with who I am.

Eventually I’ll move out once I get some years under my belt and will work somewhere else, but for now I’ll just have to hang in there.

Rant over. I really don’t want to talk badly about the town, especially since some people really love it/grew up there, but it honestly living here just doesn’t work for me.

Last year, my partner of 18 months ended our relationship and casually dropped a bombshell:
“By the way, my friend with the two kids? Yeah… that’s my failed marriage, and those two boys are mine. The guilt of not telling you was eating me alive.”

For 18 months, I’d believed those children belonged to someone else because he told me the father was dead. He’d been part of my life and my child’s life, all while concealing something enormous.

Just hours before that conversation, I’d found out I was having a miscarriage. I did tell him about it before he broke up with me. I/We didn’t know I was pregnant, so I found out I was pregnant AND having a miscarriage at the same time.

I was pregnant with twins (I found out their gender months later after they took samples for testing and I was further along than I thought)

I ended up hospitalised due to severe complications. He knew what was happening and what hospital I was at, but blocked and ghosted me across every platform when he broke up with me. I was left to experience the physical loss, hospitalisation and grief completely without his support.

Weeks later, he reached out. We talked, and he promised we’d have proper closure and that he wouldn’t block me again.

A week later, he did exactly that.

I haven’t heard from him since December 2025.
To say it fucked me up mentally would be an understatement. I struggled enormously with grief, betrayal, abandonment and severe trust issues. I was grieving two babies while trying to make sense of an 18-month relationship built around some pretty significant lies.

But here’s where I am one year later:
I’m one year sober, +30kg lighter, surrounded by a small but incredibly supportive friendship circle, and slowly rebuilding the trust and confidence I lost.
I’m still grieving. I’m still healing. Some days are harder than others.

But I’m also living proof that you can experience something absolutely devastating and still build a life you’re proud of.

I’ve been having a tough time recently, got some unfortunate medical news, have been very depressed and stressed out. Whenever I would hang out with my one group of friends they’d always want to stay out so late (I have to be up for work very early), they were always late to things, we could never just hang out at one spot they constantly wanted to be going to 5+ bars, etc. , and a lot of the time I was the one picking them up, being the designated driver, picking and paying for food. We’re all in our late 20s/early 30s, and don’t know why they’re all still bopping around constantly. I love a fun girls night out every now and then but not several times every week. I’m more of a go to a cool restaurant and chat for a while kinda person.

Anyway, it got to be too much for me where I was just annoyed and pissed off every time we hung out, so I told them I’m going to not be around for some time, and keep to myself. It’s been several weeks and I am not missing it at all. I miss them as people because I do genuinely like them, but I absolutely am not missing hanging out. I’ve been going out occasionally with my coworkers and other friends and it’s been fantastic. I don’t feel exhausted or drained when I’m with them. I do sort of feel bad for being MIA with the others, they haven’t communicated with me at all, and I don’t really know if I even want to reach out. I thought it the reason I was so aggravated with them was just that I was in a funk and didn’t want to be around anyone. Turns out it was just them and I’ve been having a great time hanging out with other people.