Life Stories and Everyday Drama

I don't know what to do.

I'm FTM and I don't think my parents fully understand what's going on or what could happen. They're great supporters, but most of the time when I'm around them (or any other people in my family for that matter) my dysphoria is at it's worst. They'll do things that very obviously show they still see me as a girl and it makes me feel terrible. I don't know if I should bring up how I want to get on puberty blockers because of how they've said binding will damage (even though I have brought up on many occasions I know how to do it safely) and I'm scared they might also say that for the blockers. I think they know how at risk trans people are for su!c!de but aren't willing to accept that I could possibly end up having those thoughts in the future. This type of stuff is called life saving for a reason, and just because I'm not having those thoughts now doesn't mean I won't in the future. I also think they might be completely oblivious to the fact I have dysphoria (and I have brought it up with my mom before).

Honestly I just get exhausted around them. Usually, when I'm having fun with them they'll randomly bring something up that reminds me of how they still view me. My dad still deadnames me a ton, even right after he corrects himself, and both my mom and dad just misgender me in general. My little sister is the only one in the house that kind of understands who I am and actually repsects that (she was the first one I came out to for a good reason). I don't know what to do, especially since serious sit-down talks mess with a lot of my emotions and I have no idea how to bring this stuff up.

so here's the thing, i'm 34 and just found out my partner cheated on me, which, as you can imagine, is kind of like being hit by a psychological freight train...

one moment you're cruising along, thinking your relationship's snug and secure, and the next, boom, everything you thought you knew is flipped on its head. now, i'm trying to figure out how to stop overthinking all of this. is that even possible? i mean, how do you shut off your brain when it's on a mental hamster wheel of betrayal and doubt? the byproducts of this whole ordeal are the constant reruns of past interactions, analyzing every look, word, and action, wondering if things were ever real or just some cruel joke. it sneaks into your thought patterns like malware, disrupting your everyday operations, making simple tasks feel like defusing a bomb. questions like, was it something i did? was there a sign i missed? keep me glued to this self-analysis, where i'm both the therapist and the patient. efficiently unpacking these instances seems rational, yet it feels emotionally exhausting. this brings me to strategies, like cognitive reframing or maybe just trying to distract myself with hobbies, but is that enough? maintaining emotional equilibrium feels like trying to balance on a tightrope with your eyes closed. it’s vital to test emotional boundaries, acknowledge the feelings, but decide not to let what transpired dominate every thought or decision. letting go is something people throw around like confetti, decorating conversations as if it's an easy step, but those who've been there know it's no picnic. trust is a delicate ecosystem and once disrupted, rebuilding feels daunting. but can this process of navigating post-betrayal emotions ultimately lead to personal growth? or does it just leave you with emotional scar tissue? strategizing how to restore or even redefine psychological self-reliance amidst this emotional upheaval is essential. sometimes i catch myself thinking if forgiveness happens naturally, or should it be a deliberate choice, like signing a mental peace treaty? this journey is a personal labyrinth, unique to each individual, yet relatable on a universal level. what's the protocol? allow some grief, sprinkle in a dash of self-care, and perhaps a generous dollop of patience, right? navigating through this emotional multi-layer shouldn’t be a solo expedition. it hit me that seeking seasoned guides like therapists can dissect complex post-cheating neurology into manageable parts. having a non-judgmental space to unload cognitive debris may not erase the past, but it might clarify the present. it's incredible how interconnected emotions and intertwined experiences are; yet there's hope in slowly disentangling them without making them the defining narrative. maybe resilience can sprout from this ordeal, or maybe not. what do you think? through it all, maintaining a nuanced view on relationships, understanding their imperfections, enterprises, and sometimes failures, might just be the grounding element needed in this intricate chaos. is there a shortfall in just living and letting each day unravel? 🍀

Okay I am new here... idk how this works..but still I am here.. So rn I wanna say that

why am I even born.. like god why.. do u see anything good me in ? No !

Uk now I'm tired of talking to new ppl online and then saying the same shit.. hi hello where are you from ? age ? and then the whole loop of stories starts again

like every time the same shit..

I'm tired of me and my silly actions.

my future is in great danger bcoz of me..

I'm failing in neet since the last 5 years... I didn't gave the exam this year... so what ? u would have still failed.... cuz uk u had no preparation !

But damn u definitely know that u can do whatever you want in this world... then whytf are u so lazy ????

I really wanna kill myself... get better for ur own sake gurlllll

And this is not it...

Ur mood changes rapidly... like are u a maniac ? or what ?

one sec my playlist sounds so good and dreamy ... and then the other second u become Arijit Singh... like what the hell is going on... why aren't u stable gurlllll ?

U didn't even had any relationship !!!!

then wtf are these mood swings ?

And to make my life more hell...

day before yesterday

I met that British guy online

he's 6'2 niceee

and ur just 5

okay keep going

u like tall ppl

fine

u got one

fine

actually why don't you just marry a pole for the sake of your life ...

My gurlllll u fell for ppl so easily... like soooo easily !

Ik ur lonely , ur sad , u want love... ikkk gurlllll

but please don't fall for anyone...

that guy complimented u so much

even when he looks wayyyy much hotter

and ur just that potato

idk what did he saw in you

maybe he was saying that all just to use you

and ur an easy prey !

last night he tried to sext with you

I didn't wanted to

but he kept saying those words which u wanted to hear so much...

but not so soon

not just in a day

my gurlllll ikkk ur desperate to find ur ideal love but understand that there's nothing like ideal.. but one day u'll definitely meet that one guy.

don't get desperate

ur not that girl

uk it

u have kept ur sanity safe till so many days for someone special

ik ur alone.. depressed.. in anxiety.. ur young 21 yr girl.. ik ur hormones.. ik ur feelings

but bcoz of these stupid hormones which just get turned on unnecessarily seeing a hot guy..

U CAN'T DESTROY URSELF !

focus on ur career .. on ur studies.. on ur parents.. on urself

u'll achieve everything ik

just stop doing stupid things to find love.. I beg u

So a few months ago, my boyfriend found out about his younger brother’s cancer which was already at level four :(

He’s just depressed and trying to earn as much as possible for the surgery fees and he’s just different

He talked less and he touches grass less

How do u cheer him up? Even the doctors said that his beloved brother won’t make jt out alive unless he receives a heart donation

Six months. That's all it took for me to go from "I can't wait to start my career!" to "I don't want to go to work!!!" How did it come to this, you ask? Let's roll back time. At 23, fresh out of college, I was thrilled to start my first job. An office job, no less. The dream, right? Suited up, coffee in hand, feeling all grown-up. But hey, spoiler alert! Turns out, cubicles and fluorescent lights aren't the vibe I thought they'd be.

Day in, day out, the same routine. Wake up. Hustle to the office. Sit. Type. Sip coffee (repeat). Breathe stale air until I'm out the door again. But doesn't it make you wonder? How does anyone find joy stuck inside four walls, going through the motions like robots? Maybe you're one of those rare ones who absolutely love it. If so, hats off! But for me, it's draining—absolutely draining. I used to think anyone opposing the traditional office environment was just being dramatic. Now, I've joined their ranks. Surprising, huh?

To be clearer, the work itself isn't atrocious. It's the setting! The lack of fresh air, the monotonous view, the awkward water-cooler conversations about yesterday's game that frankly, I couldn't care less about. It's like being in a scene from "The Office" without the fun crew. Do you know that feeling when you're stuck in traffic, bumper to bumper, just wishing to teleport somewhere else? That's how office life feels to me. Every. Single. Day. Surely, there's more to life than this monotonous routine, right?

I'm starting to consider alternatives. Can I pivot my skills to something more dynamic? Perhaps a job that gets me outside, working with my hands or interacting with people in a more lively environment? Maybe I'll try my hand at being my own boss. People keep saying it's the age of the entrepreneur! And while the thought of veering off the beaten path is terrifying, it's also kind of thrilling. After all, didn't someone famous once say, "Life begins at the end of your comfort zone"?

I’m trying to stay optimistic, reminding myself that it's all a stepping stone, even the dreaded office stint. It has its perks, sure. And I still hold the hope that soon enough, I'll wake up, excited for the day instead of dragging my feet. So, to anyone who feels the same—I see you, I'm with you, and let's figure this out! Because who said we had to settle for mundane when the world offers a splash of vibrant chaos? Let's trade those office shoes for something more adventurous and make the daily grind a bit less... well, grim.

So me and this girl have been talking on and off for about a year, to be specific within this year the reasons we've ended things we're she was over stressed by school, she didn't want to ask me to change and she felt like we were to different and I mean it's my fault for having my standards so low to even take her back because every time we ended things it's because she wanted to but about two and a half months ago she wanted to start talking again but just as friends, which is totally fine but what I was aware of is the fact she would be talking with other guys while talking with me. The way I found out is bc we work together and that's how we met and so we were on shift together just having fun laughing and then one of my friends walk in and I walk up to him calling him by his name bc this is one of my closest friends and like after our shift together she requests to follow him on Instagram and my friend texts me and he's like "do u know who this is" and I'm like "oh that's the girl I'm talking with, she prob heard me call u by your name while at work" and yk I fully trusted this girl so I thought she just followed him bc he was my friend and no other reason but then I started telling her about it and when I told her about the part of me saying that's the girl I'm talking with she blows up in my face and is like "what right do you have to put labels on us, I followed him because she caught my eye and you have no right to interfere" but like I was under the impression that we were fully just trying to work things out between us and it's not like we've just been friends per say I mean litterally the day before she was talking about how jacked I am, and the day before how cute I am and then the day before saying she was shaking because I almost saw her without makeup and then like a week before that saying she was concerned that it seemed like I didn't like her anymore

and like what am I meant to do? I liked this girl so much but I can't just take that laying down right? and I mean I haven't talked to her since but I have to see her at work on Sunday

I just need some advice on the whole situation, maybe I'm being over dramatic and I'm wrong but I feel like I'm being an idiot.

I want to let go of him. I’ve found myself looking to others and gaining my spark back again. But I find myself thinking about him moving on from me, and it upsets me. He doesn’t seem to appreciate all I’ve done for him and my friendship. Always looking elsewhere. And yet I feel so attached still. How do you let go of smtg when your past self really doesn’t want to let go?

sometimes i just can’t take it all in. it’s like the lights are too bright, the music too loud, the people too many. the colors and sounds clash in my head until it feels like my brain’s about to fry. i try to breathe, but it’s not enough; i end up snapping at people or shutting down completely, just to get a bit of space. i hate being that person, the one who can’t handle a simple party or a shopping trip without losing my mind. is it really that hard for the world to slow down just a bit??? i get so frustrated with myself, but i can’t control it. it feels like my brain’s running on high-speed internet in a world where everyone else is on dial-up. i get overloaded and then crash like a stupid system error; it’s humiliating and exhausting.

when i try to explain this to anyone, they look at me like i’m some kind of freak. “just relax,” they say, as if i haven’t tried that a million times. but relaxing doesn’t stop the buzzing in my head or the way my skin crawls when there’s too much going on. it’s not about stress, it’s about everything being too much, all at once. crowds, bright lights, loud noises—they all blend together into this horrible mess that i can’t untangle from. i end up hiding in the bathroom, pretending to be busy on my phone, just so i don’t have to feel the sensory overload; it’s pathetic, i know, but it’s the only way i can keep from breaking down. have you ever felt like this?? like the world is attacking you for no reason??

still, i’m trying to stay positive. i tell myself that it’s not weakness to recognize my limits. i’m learning to plan my days better, to take breaks when i need them, and to speak up when things get too overwhelming. i’ve even started carrying earplugs in my bag for those moments when i can’t handle the noise. i know it’s not perfect, and yeah, i still have days when everything feels like too much and i want to scream. but i’m figuring it out, little by little. i’m not giving up on myself. i’ll find ways to make the world a little quieter, a little softer, so i can keep going without feeling like my head’s about to explode. i just wish it didn’t have to be so hard all the time; wouldn’t it be nice if we could all just chill for a minute??? 😤

Losing my husband unexpectedly was a heart-breaking experience that left me grappling with unbearable sorrow and navigating an uncertain future. Honestly, there were moments when I felt completely lost and alone, questioning how I could possibly move forward without him by my side. Amidst the overwhelming grief, my mum became an incredible pillar of strength for me. She offered a comforting presence during my darkest moments and helped me find a way out of the grief abyss. I had to ask myself, where would I be without her unwavering support and kind words during these trying times???

My mum's wisdom and compassion were nothing short of lifesavers. Every morning she called, ensuring I knew she was there and that I wasn't facing this new reality alone. An unplanned bonus to her supportive presence was her uncanny knack for knowing when I just needed someone to listen, without uttering a single word in return. We joked quite a bit, which was a much-needed breather from the suffocating heaviness of grief. She had the extraordinary ability to bring back a little sunshine into my life. Can you imagine what a gift that is?? Her thoughtful hugs and cups of tea were small gestures that went a long way to settling my scattered mind. Mum wasn’t afraid to take the reins and help me with daily tasks that suddenly felt monumental. 💪 Household chores, meal preps, even a few Netflix nights that started to fill up the void ever-so-slightly. It’s funny how parents continue to surprise us even when we’re adults, isn't it?? Her invaluable guidance taught me to honor my emotions, yet remain hopeful about the future and acknowledge that it’s okay to ask for help. My healing journey would be incomplete without recognizing her selfless love and encouragement that equipped me with the strength to move forward each day. 🧡

i started my onlyfans account like a year ago, just for some extra cash, but i didn’t expect how quickly it’d take over my life. i’m 21, i thought i could handle it, just treat it like a job, you know? but it’s like this thing where the lines between work and life get real blurry. i’m on my phone all the time, messaging with clients, keeping up that sexy, flirty energy that makes them feel special. it’s addictive, not just the money, but the attention too. i catch myself checking messages during lunch, replying when i should be chilling, constantly waiting for the next notification. it’s not like i even know these guys, but their messages give me that little rush, like someone’s thinking about me, wanting me. sometimes it feels empowering, other times it’s just draining. does that sound messed up?

i’ve had friends say, “girl, you need to set boundaries,” but it’s not as easy as it sounds. when your income depends on how responsive and available you are, it’s tough to step back. i’ll tell myself, just this one time, just a few messages, and suddenly an hour’s gone. the worst part? i’ve started sexting outside of work hours, not because i want to, but because it feels like the only way to stay relevant in the game. even when i’m not on the clock, i’ll catch myself drafting flirty texts in my head, thinking about angles, what i’d say to hook them in. it’s like my brain’s wired for it now, constantly on edge, thinking, “how can i keep them coming back?” it’s not healthy, right? but how do you just stop when you’ve made it your normal?

sometimes i look at my phone and think, “what am i doing?” i used to be so social, going out, hanging with friends, but now my social life is basically these online chats. i know it’s my choice, i know i’m the one who opened the account and started down this path, but i didn’t expect it to get this deep. it’s weird because i’m not even in a relationship, but i feel like i’m constantly ‘with’ someone through these texts. like my real life’s on hold while i live in this virtual flirty bubble. maybe i need to find a better balance, or maybe it’s just part of the hustle. i don’t know. ever been in a situation where the thing you thought you could control just takes over your whole mindset?

i've always been told i'm too skinny; like, what does that even mean? i mean, can a person ever be too skinny? it's not like i'm starving myself or anything. i'm just seventeen. so let me set the scene: i stare into my closet and think about all the clothes that look weird because they hang off my frame like i'm some sort of hanger; everything meant to fit snug and cute, instead, it looks like a cheap mannequin display. i'm a girl who loves fashion magazines, but every article about the size zero models makes me feel inadequate and yet too adequate at the same time. it's crazy, isn't it? instead of being happy with my body, i'm constantly criticized by strangers, "eat a cheeseburger" they say with a laugh that tastes as sour as unwarranted judgment. i roll my eyes at those ignorant remarks, but deep down, it leaves a mark, like a permanent tattoo of self-doubt. even my doctor, who's supposed to be reassuring, goes on about my body mass index, like "girl, i know it's below average, but i eat". it's not like i want to be this way, trust me if i could add a few pounds in a blink, i totally would. have you seen how people treat those with curves? like they’ve discovered the holy grail of acceptance; what a world we live in. in gym class, i'm that girl who avoids the scales and cringes at the sight of a tape measure. the reaction from others is usually a mix of concern and envy, both equally unsettling. ever tried sitting at a dinner table with someone who scrutinizes your plate? "is that all you're eating?" – gosh, yes Karen, that’s all i’m eating today, move on! i can't help but feel like "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" where nothing is just right. why is it acceptable to comment on someone being thin but taboo to mention excess weight? what sort of double standard is this society serving us? casually people assume my life is perfect, just because i'm a size that can squeeze into whatever's on the sale rack. my friends talk about thigh gaps and diet fads, but i’d kill just to fill out a pair of jeans properly. dude, ever heard of "skinny shaming"? it's real, and it sucks. the body positivity movement is powerful, and i believe in it, but hey, it’s selective sometimes. everyone rallies for "all shapes and sizes", until it’s a shape and size they think doesn't fit into their narrative. i get it though – i'm not complaining about my health or anything, i know i'm lucky, but can we talk about how i feel for a moment? once, during a biology lecture about metabolism rates, i flinched at the professor’s words, imagining the class thinking i’m some anomaly. when did this competitive, comparative analysis become our new norm? no one seems to grasp that metabolism isn't just another word for magic tricks, it's basic biology, yet i feel judged by my own cellular processes. how insane is that? magazine covers might say "thin is in," but try being seventeen and "in" feels like living under a microscope where every move is critiqued, not celebrated. everyone wants me to meet their subjective ideal instead of accepting the fluctuating, unpredictable human form i house. sometimes i wonder if it’ll ever change, or if i’ll just become more desensitized to the pokes and jabs over time. maybe i've been quoting too much Sartre, who knows, i’m just trying to navigate this minefield called adolescence with a sense of humor and a thick skin thinner than i’d like it to be. at least i know i’m not alone in this, the internet forums prove that – lots of underweight teens encouraging and sharing tips and stories to empower one another. we need more of that solidarity, don't you think? so, what's the verdict, internet stranger? any revolutionary tips for a girl who's frustrated, tired of being quantified by caloric intake and body fat percentage when really, she just wants enough room to be herself? after all, life’s complicated enough without having to wage a war with the scale every morning. 🥺

i’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to cut off contact with your own parents. it’s not a decision you make lightly, it’s not something you wake up one morning and decide “oh, i’m done with them now,” and it’s definitely not a thing you can explain to people without sounding like the villain. but the truth is, it wasn’t just one big fight, or a betrayal that led me here. it was more like a million little paper cuts that eventually made me bleed out. each conversation, each snide comment, each cold shoulder... they stacked up like bricks around my chest until breathing became a chore. and now, i’m at a point where silence feels safer than words ever did.

there’s this misconception that going no contact is an impulsive act, a dramatic outburst, but let me tell you – it’s calculated, it’s weighed, and it’s born from years of exhaustion. for me, it wasn’t about punishing them; it was about protecting myself. there’s a sort of peace in not waiting for a call that won’t come, in not bracing for the disappointment that hits you when you realize the people who were supposed to love you unconditionally... just didn’t know how. i still remember the last time i tried to explain my feelings to them, how i said, “i just need space,” and they responded with guilt-tripping and accusations like i was betraying the family code. maybe you’ve felt that too, the subtle manipulation, the expectation that no matter what, you’ll bend because “they’re your parents” – but at what cost?

cutting ties isn’t about hate, it’s about survival. sometimes you’ve got to ask yourself, “how much more of myself do i have to lose before i finally put up a boundary?” i used to sit in my room after those long, draining phone calls, wondering if i was being too sensitive, too dramatic, too harsh. but with time, i realized i was just human, and there’s only so much hurt you can endure before you have to step away for your own sanity. and yes, the guilt still gnaws at me, especially on holidays or when i hear from relatives asking why i’ve become so distant. but i remind myself that self-preservation isn’t selfishness; it’s necessary.

so, i sit here now, scrolling through old photos, thinking about what could have been if they had just tried a little harder, listened a little closer, or loved a little better. but i can’t change them, and i can’t keep sacrificing my peace to maintain a relationship that only drains me. i’m learning to accept that some doors are meant to stay closed, that not every story gets a happy ending, and that’s okay. sure, there’s a lingering sadness, an ache for what i wish i had, but there’s also relief in knowing i’ve chosen myself, finally. and maybe that’s the real takeaway here – that sometimes the healthiest love is the one you give yourself, even when it means walking away from those who were supposed to give it to you first.

does it ever get easier? i don’t know. maybe it’s just one of those things you learn to live with, like a scar that reminds you of a wound that’s healed but still aches when it rains. and when people ask me if i’ll ever reconnect, i just shrug and say, “maybe one day,” because who really knows? but for now, i’m okay with the quiet, with the space i’ve carved out for myself, and with the understanding that no contact doesn’t mean no love – it just means love from a distance. and maybe that’s enough; maybe that’s all i can give.

It’s not even like I woke up one morning and thought that... but yeah, I don't really know who I am anymore right now... It was a slow, agonizing realization, one that gnawed at the edges of my mind every damn day, like a relentless parasite. I’ve given up so much of myself for this relationship. My personality, my interests, my humor, my own fucking preferences. I remember how I used to laugh at stupid things, how I loved blasting heavy metal in the car and feeling the bass rumble through my chest. Now, I sit there in silence, pretending to enjoy his godawful indie playlists because, apparently, that's what "we" do. Do you see the irony? I don’t even know who I am because I’ve been eroded, worn down like some fucking rock in a stream. One little compromise at a time, I traded myself for this empty façade of “us.” But what about me?

I don’t even recognize my face in the mirror anymore. I used to wear bold makeup, vivid colors that made me feel fierce and powerful. Now, it’s all muted tones, subtle pinks, and nudes. Why? Because he said it was more “natural.” Natural? Who gives a shit? I used to stand up for myself, used to call people out on their bullshit, but now I find myself swallowing my anger like it’s some bitter pill I have to take just to keep the peace. I hate myself for it. I hate that I’ve become this quiet, compliant version of myself, a woman I’d probably roll my eyes at if I met her. And the worst part? He probably thinks I’m “happy” like this. Well, fuck that. I’m not happy. I’m trapped in a persona I created to survive this relationship, and I’m suffocating in it. How the hell did I get here?

I tried to claw my way back to who I was. I picked up my guitar again, the one I used to play every day before this relationship turned my world into a grayscale. But the strings felt foreign under my fingers. I couldn’t even remember the chords to my favorite song. It was like trying to speak a language I used to be fluent in but had completely forgotten. Do you have any idea how terrifying that is? To lose not just your interests but the muscle memory of who you used to be? It’s like my brain was reprogrammed, overwritten by his preferences, his needs, his fucking whims. And the scary thing is, I let it happen. Bit by bit, I chipped away at myself until there was nothing left but a hollow echo of the woman I used to be. And he didn’t even notice, or worse, he noticed and liked it.

Sometimes, I lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering what the fuck I’m doing. Who am I? Am I even a person anymore, or just some prop in his perfectly curated life? I fantasize about walking out the door, slamming it behind me, and reclaiming my fucking soul. But then I think about the logistics—where would I go, what would I do, how would I even start over? I feel like a ghost, haunting a life I never agreed to live, and I don’t know how to escape. I don’t want your sympathy. I don’t even want advice. I just want to scream into the void: I don’t know who I am anymore. And maybe, just maybe, if I scream loud enough, the real me might hear it and claw her way back. Or maybe she’s already gone. Who knows? 🖕

i'm aware that there's a high possibility that most of this is my fault for not like expressing myself or whatever, so i am wondering if i'm 'crazy' - if i'm being reasonable. my friends aren't the most supportive people to me, but that can be explained by me not being a very open person myself. a lot of them have relatively big problems in their own lives and they come to others in the group to vent or cope, but i don't have those types of big problems, at least not anymore. but when i did (when a family member had cancer) i went through it basically alone as i, successfully somehow, trudged through other areas of my life like academics. it was never something that i would let get myself down. but the thing is my friends didnt really try to reach out? i know they knew i told them or my parents told their parents who told them. maybe they knew i wouldnt be so receptive, because i really would not have, but its the fact that it feels like they didnt even try. theres this sense of building resentment as it becomes easier and easier for me to notice their flaws, especially when they interact with each other, weirdly enough. i never point it out because the recipients never seem to have a problem with it but sometimes it drives me mad. one of my friends, she doesn't even notice it, but she turns almost every conversation to herself to talk about her problems. once, another friend was talking about her problems, very serious ones, and somehow she managed to turn the conversation completely around to her problems. but this other friend didn't seem to have a problem with it. but it really fucking pissed me off, even though i didn't say anything. it feels like i am seeing something that isn't there and i have to stay quiet because it looks like no one else notices or cares. am i crazy? do i have self centered friends? am i the self centered one? idfk but i feel isolated from this group and im wondering how much of it is my fault. oh also, they all forgot my birthday last year and i give them some benefit of the doubt because i didnt mention any plans or that it was coming but i have known them for several years, whereas several from my high school who ive known for like two at that point wished me happy birthday. honestly im waiting to see if they remember this year since its coming up. i think i might be ridiculous.

Growing up, I was used to being praised by my relatives. My aunts and uncles, and most importantly, my mother and father. I was the younger sibling, have an older and only sister, I was praised because I achieved far more greater things than my sibling had, as they've said really. I grew up having those expectations normalised towards me because I never had trouble keeping up with them. I also won those competitions because my mom wants me to and has me practice hard. With honours, first placer in poster making, the class and even the schools representative when competing with other schools in the district, once in the division level..

I was never the smart kid though, just enough, by fourth grade I entered every single poster and any art related contests and won the gold medal most of the time. I never connected it to the fact that those added points must've been what pulled my grades high.

My older sibling always had lesser grades than me, always berated and compared to my higher grades. I always preened on the compliments yet maybe I should’ve felt bad instead that my sibling was being judged and ridiculed for barely passing. I didn't know then what it felt like.

I never thought I’d experience those things, yet I did. Entering highschool, I never placed high expectations on myself. Why would I when big grades always came naturally to me even without the tiring studying back at elementary?

Yet now, lesson after lesson I fail to comprehend them, I barely understood the materials and repeatedly got less than good scores in activities and tests. I excel in project making yet pretty designs will never get me far. Now I barely hang on to my honour streak.

Then that day came.

Our advisor posted the list of who made it to the honours list in our class gc. And for the first time I didn’t see my name. At most half of us didn't make it to the honour list so I rationalized that Im not an odd one out. I didn’t feel much, I didn’t let myself feel much, not while I was in school in front of my friends. I felt disappointed, sure but I let it go because I knew I couldn’t do anything about it anymore.

Then when I got home, I suddenly felt myself being nervous around my mother, she kept asking me and I relented and told her I failed for the very first time to be in the honour list.

What hurt more was that she didn’t scream at me. She usually does on smaller matters (she'd curse a lot) but now she simply sounded disappointed, berated me and told me how I would tell my hardworking father. What’s worse was that I was now the one being compared to my older sibling who was passing her classes.

I didn't cry, I didn’t feel like needing to cry even by then, I was ashamed but I didn’t cry, I felt numb that I didn’t cry, I kept quiet and took in all her words. She told me she expected better and that honest to god hurts most.

When dinner came around my mother told my father about my failed grades, he sounded disappointed and angry too. I didn’t cry. I expected and deserved it.

Yet. when I was alone, feeding the dog (she's tied outside by the shop where my dad fixes cars, he's a self employed mechanic) I felt my eyes water and tears started falling down, my chest tightened and I wanted to stop yet I couldn't. I hid behind our car that was nearby, ashamed to be seen crying over my failed grades. Now hunched over in the shadows, trying desperately to wipe the onslaught of tears, I took and shaky breaths and composed myself as best as I could. Finishing up with my chore and going to my room as if I hadn't been crying my eyes out.