Couple Stories - page 4

My boyfriend asked for a break recently, but its not the mutual type of breaks. He never listens and never puts in consideration MY own feelings. He hurts alot sometimes but I really love him and dont want to lose him. My lifes bullshit

I've been on this wild journey of self-discovery, and honestly, what a trip it’s been figuring out my damn sexuality. Like, one minute I’m crushing hard on this girl in my class, we vibe so well, and then the next, I’m drooling over some guy in a coffee shop, and I’m like, "what the actual heck is happening?" It’s like I’m a walking contradiction, and if anyone’s got a spare manual on this kinda stuff, hit me up! So, I’ve been trying labels on for size – bisexual, pansexual, queer – but nothing feels quite right; each label seems to fit like a shoe from the clearance rack at a thrift store, you know? One day I’m in the mood for a romantic comedy featuring a fierce female lead, the next, I’m binging on some brooding male anti-hero drama. Heck, I’ve even Googled “what is my sexuality?!” like a million times, coz surely the internet knows better than me, right? 😂 It feels like an episode of "Queer Eye" gone wrong, where they’re just yelling, “Love yourself, you’re fabulous!” while I’m over here like, “Thanks, but can I just get some clarity?” I remember this one time my best friend said, “You can love whoever the hell you want,” and I thought, wow, she’s onto something. Why do I even need a label? It’s like trudging through a minefield of expectations, assumptions, and stereotypes, and let’s face it, some people are so bent on shoving you into a specific box, it’s nauseating. We have “The Kinsey Scale,” which is cool and all, but I sometimes feel like saying, “Screw the scale, I’m just vibing.” I read somewhere that sexuality is fluid, and it makes total sense; I mean, one moment you’re in love with the idea of a picnic with a girl, and then suddenly you're all about a romantic evening with a dude and a bottle of wine. So, like, what am I? Do I really need to label it? Labels seem helpful, but they also seem restrictive. It’s a double-edged sword. And dating? Ugh, don’t even get me started. Trying to navigate that landscape feels like climbing Mount Everest without gear. Swipe left, swipe right, and the anxiety? It’s crippling. And the worst part is when someone asks, “So, what do you identify as?” and I’m like, “How about a hot mess?” You know that awkward moment when you’re honestly reflecting and you just want to scream “I’m just me?!” Sometimes I think, “Do I have to pick a side?” and the answer seems to be no. I mean, is it really that serious? Like, I read a quote that said, “Sexuality is like a rainbow: it’s made up of many colors,” and that resonates so much. I wanna play with all the colors! So anyway, I’m embracing whatever this is, because life’s too short to stress about it, right? I’ve had those nights where I just wanna melt into my blankets, binge-watch my favorite shows, and cry about confusing romance. It’s rough; I've asked myself if I'm overthinking it or if I’m just, I don’t know, bored with the binary? 😕 Some days I just want a partner who gets my latest obsession with true crime documentaries and how I think pineapple on pizza is a crime against humanity. Why are we so obsessed with labeling everything? Can’t it just be about feelings and vibes? I might still be in the thick of figuring this out, but I’m cool with that now; it’s part of the journey, and the journey is kinda beautiful in its chaos. Who’s with me on this? Anyone else feeling the weight of the world’s expectations, but also finding joy in the messiness of it all? Nobody should feel cornered or pressured to fit into a neat little label, I mean, “Sexuality is a spectrum, not a straitjacket,” right? Let’s enjoy the ride, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll discover that love comes in all shapes and sizes – and sometimes, it’s just about being open to whatever floats your boat;

I’m just sitting here, scrolling through photos of my husband, and honestly, it can get pretty lonely sometimes. Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m super proud of him; he’s out there serving and doing what he loves, but when I think about how my day-to-day looks compared to his, it feels like we’re living in separate worlds. I’m 27, and I just live in this small town, working my job, going to the gym, and hanging out with friends on weekends, but I always come home to an empty house. I mean, I’ve got my dog, and he’s a great buddy, but it's just not the same, you know? Plus, I miss all those little things we used to do together, like cooking dinner or binge-watching our favorite shows. Now, most nights, I just end up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, scrolling through Netflix, saying, “Wow, this would’ve been fun with him." 😔

I think one of the hardest parts is when I see everyone else enjoying their relationships. I mean, my friends will post those cute couple pics, and I’m really happy for them, but it hits different when you’re in a relationship but still feel alone. Every now and then, I catch myself staring at his empty side of the bed and wishing things were different. Just last week, I had a pretty rough day at work—I was all stressed out, and all I wanted was to talk to him. I picked up my phone, but then it hit me again that it was just going to be a short voice message. I mean, I’d pour my heart out, and he wouldn’t hear it until who knows when; it’s tough feeling so far away. But I try to focus on the good things, like keeping a journal where I write letters to him. It feels therapeutic, and maybe one day he’ll read them and just realize how much I miss him, you know?

For me, being a military spouse is a mixed bag; there are days when the loneliness just kind of creeps in, but I also find ways to stay connected. I set reminders for us to FaceTime at least once a week, and those little chats really make it worth it. I’ve started finding little hobbies too, like painting, which helps me work through feelings and express myself. It’s like a little escape right at home when I can’t be with him. Maybe you’ve found yourself feeling lonely in your relationship too? I hope to hold onto that hope that this phase will get better and that one day, we’ll have more time together. It’s all about the little moments we create, even from miles away; I just need to hang in there and keep looking forward to when we’ll finally be together again.

So, I'm currently in a long distance relationship since several years, and I'm also very happy with my partner. Aside from occasional small conflicts, which I imagine are part of any relationship, there aren't any things that make me unhappy. I love him and we have a very good chemistry, we talk transparently about any issue that comes up, and i can imagine staying with him in the long term. Overall I'd say I'm the happiest I have ever been in a relationship.

Although recently I got a message from my ex-girlfriend after 7 years of silence, which also happens to be my first partner ever, but our past is a bit more complicated. For context, we were an on-off couple, which honestly was because she broke up with me every time she found an issue in our relationship. And I absolutely see that those issues were caused on both sides. Both of us were immature at that time, since we were 17 and 19 when we got together, and with my knowledge from today this was probably her way of coping with problems, removing them from her life or running away instead of facing them. There also was family drama and mental health problems she was struggling with, which made it even harder to talk about issues with her. At some point we had a bigger argument and she blocked me and cut all ties for good, that's when the 7 year gap happened.

So much for the negatives, but we also had a lot of similarities in our personality and interests. I could talk with her like I could with no one else back then, and it often felt like the cliche of "having found a soulmate". I can't say if that was just the experience of being in love for the first time or not, and I certainly don't want to make comparisons with my new partner, since there has been too much time, changes of circumstances and personal development happening in between those two relationships.

So when she reached out to me I was very surprised at first, because I thought I would never hear from her again, and I also was fine with that. She basically said she wanted to find closure, apologized about her mistakes and behavior, and we had a bit of small-talk about our work and stuff. At first I thought "okay, I don't care about this person anymore, I'll accept her apology because I have good faith in everyone and I'm glad she reflected on her personality, so she deserves getting the closure she wants".

However I start to feel more and more unsure about my actual feelings. It's not that I feel in love, but there seems to be this kind of "fascination" (idk how else to put it) when seeing pictures of her, like seeing an old friend and wondering what they have been up to for the last 7 years, and you just want to hang out with them to hear all their stories. The things is that I had those same feelings of fascination when meeting her for the first time, and it's what later then turned into us being together.

This is on my mind all the time ever since we talked again, I'm having fantasies of meeting her again to catch up, and I can't tell if it's because I'm still processing it, or if it's because there might actually be feelings developing again. I'm also really happy for her to have made that step of reflecting on her mistakes, which is why just blocking her and moving on would kind of feel unfair towards her.

This is where things get a bit complicated. My current partner has insecurities when it comes to "being replaced", which I fully get and respect. He also knows we talked and didn't feel great about it, he says he respects my decisions but also made it clear that he feels uneasy with me talking to this person. For this reason I don't consider meeting up with her, or even continuing the conversation. I don't want to do anything that makes my partner feel bad or insecure.

However, I'm also a bit afraid that I might just have suppressed my feelings for her during the pause we had, and by her reaching out these feelings got unlocked again, and that's the reason I'm currently feeling those emotions I'm unsure about. It could also be that I simply feel memories of the feelings I had back then, and perhaps these memories will fade during the next weeks. My current partner doesn't know about these conflicted feelings I have, because I don't want to make him worried or even more insecure, but he knows that she reached out to me and we briefly talked.

So I know the logical solution to this would be "forget her and move on, you're happy with your current partner" or "find out which one you want to be with", but at this point I simply can't tell what those emotions are I have towards her. Friendship? Memories? Suppressed love? I simply don't know what I'm feeling, or how I should react in this situation. How do I find out what I'm actually feeling, and depending on what the result of that is, what is the "right" way to carry on? Maybe some of you have experienced something similar, or you just have an advice for me? Any comment is appreciated :)

you ever feel like communication can be a bit of a minefield in couples? i'm 41 now, been there, done that with relationships, and it’s kinda wild how things change over the years. like, when you're young, you think love is all about the butterflies and passion, right? but then you hit your 40s and it's more about understanding what your partner really means when they say "I'm fine" 🤔. i mean, come on, we both know they’re usually not fine. it’s like this secret code, and you gotta crack it if you wanna survive. communication is key, they always say, but what happens when that key doesn't fit the lock, you feel? think about it, how many times have you had those awkward moments where you thought you knew what they wanted, but turns out you were totally off base? it’s like trying to read a book upside down. sometimes, it feels like we’re just talking in circles; have you experienced that? i remember this one time, me and my partner spent nearly an hour discussing where to order dinner. endless back and forth, and honestly, it felt ridiculous. it all came down to just burgers or sushi, but we both had different moods and preferences. at one point, i even joked, "why don't we just make it a burger sushi fusion?" but of course, that didn't help. i think every couple can relate to that, right? so then there’s the whole question of asking the right things. “how was your day” is a classic, but doesn’t really dig deep. have you ever tried asking, “what made you smile today?” or “what was the most annoying thing that happened to you?” those kinda questions open up a whole new world. you can really get to know your partner beyond the surface-level stuff. couple's questions can be a game changer, or they can backfire too; sometimes you might strike a nerve you didn’t mean to poke. you know that feeling when you’re just trying to connect, and you accidentally touch a sore spot? i used to think it was a disaster, but now i see it as an opportunity, right? after all, who doesn't want to deepen their bond? there’s this idea out there, “no pain, no gain,” and it feels kinda true when it comes to relationships. it’s like, if you don’t face the tough stuff, how can you expect to grow together? i find that even tricky conversations can ultimately strengthen your connection. and to be real, it’s not always easy. sometimes you just wanna avoid the hard talks and binge-watch a show instead, but skipping them doesn’t do anyone any favors in the long run. have you found a balance in that? like, when’s the best time to dive into those heavier topics? i guess there’s no one-size-fits-all answer. i’ve had mixed success; sometimes, a random Tuesday night feels right, and other times, the moment can totally kill the vibe, you know? but here’s a thought, maybe curiosity is the secret ingredient. if you approach conversations with a genuine interest in what your partner is feeling or thinking, it could really take the pressure off. think about asking them quirky questions too, like "if you could have dinner with anyone in the world, who would it be?" those can lead to some fun discussions. and let’s be honest, life is too short to always be serious. sometimes we just need to laugh and remember why we connected in the first place. it’s easy to get lost in the day-to-day grind, juggling work, kids, or whatever, and forget to take a moment to appreciate each other. have you found little ways to keep that spark alive? me and my partner started doing a monthly “date night” where we try new things together, from cooking classes to trying out different restaurants, or even just chilling at home with a movie marathon. it really helps break up the routine and keeps things fresh. the simple act of prioritizing fun together makes a massive difference, you know? we’ve had the cheesy heart-to-heart moments where we just sit and talk for hours about our dreams, fears, or even random stuff that pops into our heads. sometimes it's enlightening, sometimes hilarious, but it all comes back to connecting. i guess at the end of the day, it’s all about finding your rhythm as a couple, and embracing the ride with all its bumps; we might not have it all figured out, but as long as we are willing to ask questions and keep the conversation going, we’re on the right track, right? so here’s my question to you: what’s your go-to couples question?

I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be packing my bags with an overwhelming sense of relief. You see, I recently discovered that my wife had been unfaithful. At first, it hit me like a punch in the gut—I was blindsided. Society often romanticizes the concept of forgiveness, but after countless sleepless nights and heart-wrenching conversations, I realized that this wasn’t a situation I wanted to mend. Sure, she feels guilty now. She cries and pleads for another chance as if our once-happy marriage could magically return to its former glory. But honestly, I don’t care if she cries. Years of my life spent trying to make it work only to have it crumble because she couldn't stay faithful? That’s on her now. Frankly, it feels liberating to embrace the idea of moving on. 😌

I’m 39, and I’ve spent much of my life trying to please others, always prioritizing their needs over my own. It’s exhausting, to say the least. I've learned that sometimes, to protect your own well-being, you must prioritize your happiness. I remember a quote from Rumi, “The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” I think I’ve been wounded enough. I’ve been nurturing the hope of a clean slate for quite some time now—because life is too short to wallow in despair. I deserve more—compassion, excitement, and a partner who genuinely values what we built together. No more pity parties or playing the eternal victim in a sad love story. This chapter of my life is closing, and I can almost hear the pages turning.

The thing is, life goes on. I have finally come to understand that personal freedom is far more valuable than a toxic relationship. Understanding my worth has turned a vital corner in my journey of self-discovery. If you’ve ever been in a situation like mine, let me ask you, does the weight of someone else's guilt really matter if you've already made the decision to move forward? Sure, it’s emotional and painful—no one wants to look back and see all the wistful moments being tainted. However, it's crucial to remember that we are not the mistakes we've made or the company we keep. Learning to let go and find solace in solitude has opened up a new perspective on life. I am optimistic about my future, and there's a beautiful world outside waiting for me to explore. Here’s to new beginnings! 🎉

My bf has had some troubles since he was very young when it come to sexual pleasure and to self pleasure as well.

We've been together 5 years now and 4 of them were very long distance. It was a bit of a problem even then since his sex drive on long distance was very high while mine not. We have moved now together and we've been living with eachother for almost a year. Our sex life hasn't been very intense but thats bc we both work a lot and fitness-wise we aren't that active. That, we dont mind, we've talked about it and it's enough for both.

But last holidays he went online and started sexting with an other girl including pictures. She was a stranger and he hasnt talked to her (from what i knwo) again. Last week it happened again and it was a different stranger. I know him well enough to know that he truly isnt the type to go and cheat but that self pleasure and sexual urge is very strong sometimes and he doesnt think about it clearly in the moment.

We have of course discussed it and he was the one to let me know later that evening bc he couldn't leep it anymore. It wasnt even that I or he didnt want to have intercourse but I was on my period and we dont do anything in the time of the month.

What hurts more ig is that this time instead of being at work while he did that i was in our office playing online with others and he was in the living room. Somehow that makes it worse? I cant explain it but it hasn't bothered me like this before. Last time i completely brushed it off and even forgot about it bc I understand him.

Idk what to think and how to handle this and i dont have anyone else to talk about it except for him bc he is my best friend as well.

I really love him and its not black and white. I just want to find a way to handle this.

so, like, my ex keeps trying to contact me and it’s super annoying!!! I thought we were done when we broke up a few months ago, but he just won’t take a hint. I even blocked him on all social media platforms but somehow he still finds a way to message me??? like, how? I mean, is it really that hard for him to understand that I don’t want to talk to him anymore? I’m 22 and just trying to live my life; I don’t need this drama!!! 😩

the worst part is, he sometimes sends me these really inappropriate texts and, honestly, it makes me feel so uncomfortable. who does that? like, hello, I don’t want to receive those kinds of messages. it’s like he has no respect for me or my boundaries at all!!! I tried responding nicely the first few times, hoping he would get it. I was like, “hey, please stop texting me, I’m not interested,” but he just brushes it off and tries again. it’s exhausting!!! 😒

I even thought about changing my number, but then I realized that wouldn’t solve the problem because if he finds me on Instagram or any other platform, it just repeats itself. I really don’t want to keep playing this game of cat and mouse! I don’t want to have those awkward confrontations where I have to explain why I don’t want to talk to him... it just feels so unnecessary and, to be honest, a little embarrassing. isn’t it sad that it’s reached this point? 😳 I’m trying to think of a way to cut him off for good; I'm considering reporting and blocking but that feels like a whole thing;

I guess my question is, what should I even do next? has anyone been in a similar situation? I just want peace but this keeps dragging on and it’s getting super old! sometimes it feels like he thinks we’re still together or something and it’s confusing!!! I know I need to stand my ground but all this back and forth is just too much. ugh, I wish I could just turn back time and avoid all of this drama! anyone have advice? please help!!! 🙏

I find myself in a unique position that I can't quite put my finger on. At 23, I feel like I should have a better grasp on what my relationships are supposed to look like, yet here I am, questioning whether I’m in a queerplatonic relationship or something that defies categorization altogether. It’s complicated when the emotional bonds of friendship start feeling very much like partnership, yet the labels we’ve been given don’t seem to fit. You know that feeling when you have a deep connection with someone, where the lines between friendship and romance are so blurred that you’re left wondering if you should just throw caution to the wind and embrace whatever this is or if you need to examine it more critically?

I mean, we spend nearly all of our time together—cooking dinners, binge-watching shows, even having those deep midnight conversations that last for hours. There's a comfort level that’s reminiscent of a long-term romantic relationship, but we never actually call ourselves a couple. We’ve both made it clear that we don’t want to label our relationship in typical terms, but the nature of our bond seems to challenge the boundary between friendship and a queerplatonic relationship. At times, it feels like we’re almost like partners in crime; the way we support each other emotionally feels heavy with significance. But when I look for definitions to cling to, I often question if what we have is actually queerplatonic. Does it have to fit into a convenient box, or can it simply exist outside of labels?

When we’re navigating the world together, I notice how we interact with other people. Friends often ask if we’re a couple because we do share physical affection, like holding hands or hugging, which typically imply romance. They exchange glances that seem to suggest I should either embrace this label or clarify my feelings. In these moments, I can’t help but feel a bit anxious. Are we doing something wrong by not defining ourselves as a couple? Or is there a possibility that this unusual connection is valid just on its own, and it doesn’t need to conform to societal expectations? There's so much unexpected joy in our relationship that questions whether I should just lean into the ambiguity; I often vacillate between wanting to clarify and remaining in this emotionally rich, undefined space.

Navigating these waters becomes even murkier when it comes to communicating about our feelings. We touch upon it sometimes, but genuine discussions about what we’re feeling and whether we want to label our relationship always seem to get sidestepped. I’m left wondering if it’s fear that holds us back, perhaps a fear of disrupting the beautiful rhythm we have established. Or maybe it's the excitement of being in something unique that keeps us from placing a set name on it, feeling that labeling it could somehow dilute what’s special. So, I ask you: when it comes to relationships that are this complicated—where do you draw the line? Are we too hesitant to discuss the nature of our bond, or is there wisdom in letting it float in this undefined space where love, affection, and friendship coexist harmoniously? I’m truly curious to hear what others think about my situation;

i don't really know why i’m here, but i guess i needed somewhere to unload this without getting torn apart in real life. i cheated on my girlfriend. yes. it happened. once. i wish i could wrap it up in excuses or pretend it meant nothing but that'd be lying again. and i think i’m already full on that. we’ve been together for almost a year, she’s been nothing but decent to me. i met the other girl during a weekend party, things escalated; it wasn’t premeditated. there’s no passion behind it, not even lust really, just a dumb impulsive choice from someone who clearly doesn’t think ahead. i’ve read enough relationship psychology to know that what i did is textbook self-sabotage, yet here i am, acting shocked at the result. i haven’t told her. i don’t think i will. is that selfish? maybe. probably. but if the guilt eats me alive, isn’t that punishment too? am i supposed to hand her pain just because i created it?

my biggest problem is trying to calculate consequences like i’m doing damage control in a lab experiment. i think in probabilities, scenarios, long-term psychological impact, but none of that helps when you look at her and she’s smiling like the world makes sense. i can’t even enjoy time with her now. everything feels off, fake, like i’m in some kind of simulation running on bad code. maybe that’s dramatic but it's the only comparison that fits. she keeps talking about our summer plans, about little things we’ll do together, and i’m nodding along like an actor trapped in a scene i never auditioned for. some people say if you regret it, you’ve learned something. but does it count if you still hide it? if you still protect yourself first? people talk about closure and confession but what if i’m just scared of watching someone i care about fall apart because of me. maybe i already broke this relationship the second it happened and i’m just delaying the expiration date;

i don’t know what kind of man this makes me. i never saw myself as “that guy.” now i wonder if that’s exactly who i’ve always been and just never had the opportunity to find out. character isn’t tested when everything’s fine — it’s tested when you can get away with something and still choose not to. and i failed that test. miserably. if you’re reading this and you’ve ever thought about doing what i did, ask yourself: what do you think happens after? you think you’ll feel better? stronger? validated? because it’s none of that. it’s quiet. heavy. stupid. and it just sits with you. maybe i’ll come clean. maybe i won’t. either way, i don’t think i deserve her anymore, but i also don’t know if she deserves the truth in this way. how do you weigh truth against peace? and if the truth only serves to fracture someone else's sense of safety, is it even moral to reveal it? i’m not looking for sympathy. just had to let it out somewhere. thanks if you read.

it seems that every time I search for help with my marriage, I’m bombarded with ads from love coaches promising to save my relationship for a mere small fortune, and honestly, it’s starting to drive me crazy. I mean, why does every piece of advice about marriage and relationships have to come with a price tag? I’m a 41-year-old guy who’s been married for over fifteen years, and things have not been easy lately. I thought turning to the internet would give me some insights from people who have been there, done that, you know? But every click leads me down a rabbit hole of expensive eBooks, online courses, and consultations that seem more about lining someone's pockets than actually providing real help. Is it just me, or do other people feel that the romantic advice industry is a total scam? I started searching for free resources—blogs, forums, whatever I could find—hoping to stumble across someone who genuinely wants to share their experiences instead of trying to market something. Now, don’t get me wrong, I get that everyone has to make a living, but sometimes it feels like the pursuit of love has turned into a business opportunity for a lot of folks out there. Honestly, I find it disheartening and slightly disingenuous. A lot of the free advice I managed to find was stuff like: "just communicate better" or "try to understand your partner's love language." Really? That’s it? It's like tossing around generic platitudes without any real substance behind them. Don't we deserve more than that when we're trying to navigate the complex waters of a long-term relationship? One of the biggest issues in my marriage right now is that my wife feels neglected, and I completely understand why, but expressing that to her is so much harder than it seems. It feels like there’s this invisible distance growing, and no matter how many times I read “quality time is key,” it doesn’t change the fact that there are genuine hurdles in connecting with her amid life’s overwhelming chaos. Do any of you know what it’s like to feel like you're tiptoeing on eggshells in your own home, afraid that saying the wrong thing could cause another argument? It’s exhausting. So, I started thinking, wouldn’t it be helpful if people shared real stories of overcoming relational pitfalls instead of charging for ‘insider secrets’? I mean, we all deal with different struggles—financial stress, work-life balance, parenting pressures—but where’s the collection of lived experiences that could actually provide comfort or insight? (Also, I wonder about the role of vulnerability in these discussions.) Maybe I’m idealistic, but genuine human connection shouldn’t have a price tag, right? And isn’t it odd how some people claim they can fix your relationship without even knowing you or your partner? What gives them that right? Aren’t relationships as unique as the people in them? While I was trying to find answers, I began jotting down my thoughts and the problems I face, and I can’t help but wonder if there’s value in that for others too. Is there something cathartic in sharing our struggles, in being real about our shortcomings without a sales pitch? I think there is. So, dear reader, have you ever found yourself in a similar spot? Perhaps you’ve tried seeking advice only to find it buried under a mountain of advertisements? In a way, I’m feelin’ like my own therapist here, as I write this down. The other day, I stumbled upon a forum where people shared their relationship stories for free, and it felt so refreshing. Some were heartbreaking, some were filled with laughter, and some provided actionable steps that didn’t cost an arm and a leg. It was like a breath of fresh air, and I left feeling encouraged rather than frustrated. Yet, it's a shame that these platforms are not mainstream. Why is it so hard to find genuine support without a catch? Is it possible that people are really more concerned about money than about truly helping others? Maybe I should just put my experiences out there and see if they resonate with anyone, no strings attached. If anyone feels like sharing their experiences, it could be therapeutic, right? Aren’t we all looking for that sense of community and support during our tough times? Just asking these questions makes me believe that we can find common ground in our struggles, whether it’s overcoming miscommunication or learning how to prioritize each other amid the stressors of daily life. So, what do you think? Can we create a space where we uplift each other without diving into that money pit of love coaching?

So, I’ve been in a relationship with my boyfriend for a little over six months now, and I absolutely adore him. He’s sweet, funny, and we have a solid connection most of the time. The only small issue that keeps creeping up is our conversations. I feel like we sometimes run out of things to talk about, and it gets kind of awkward, you know? 😂 Am I alone in this? I can’t be the only one who sometimes stares at their boyfriend, waiting for some sort of magical topic to pop into my head.

I think part of the issue might be that we both tend to be a bit shy, or maybe we just don't know how to dive deeper into certain subjects. Like, we can chat about our favorite movies or what we did over the weekend, but when it comes to more meaningful conversation, it feels like we kind of hit a wall. Does anyone else feel like they struggle with this? I mean, I want to get to know him better, but sometimes I just don't know what to ask. Should I be throwing random questions at him, or would that feel too forced? There are only so many times you can ask someone, “What’s your favorite color?” before it feels like a game of 20 Questions for kids.

The other day, I decided to try something new. While we were chilling on the couch, I brought up some topics from a random "get to know you" list I found online. I started with something easy, like “What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?” He laughed and shared this hilarious story from his childhood that involved him tripping over his shoelaces in front of his crush. It was such a genuine moment, and it made me realize how important it is to ask the right questions. Why is it so easy to default to small talk when there’s so much more to discover about each other?

After that conversation, I wanted to keep building on it. I started asking him about his goals and dreams, his thoughts on relationships, what makes him feel secure, and where he sees himself in the next five years. It got surprisingly deep really fast, and I felt like we were connecting in a way we hadn’t before. However, I also wondered if I was pushing too hard or if it’s just good to be open about these things? Do you all think there’s a balance between playful banter and serious talk, or am I overthinking it?

At the end of the day, I’m really eager to make our conversations more meaningful but also keep the lighthearted vibe we both enjoy. I’m also curious to know if anyone has any tips on topics that work well for their relationships? That would seriously help me out. I think it’s just a bit of a learning curve, and I’m willing to put in the effort to deepen our connection, but I genuinely wonder if other people have similar struggles too. So please, share your stories; are there certain questions you’ve found helpful or fun when talking with your partner? I’m all ears!

In a relationship that seems perfect from the outside, it's funny how there can be an undercurrent of secrets just beneath the surface. My boyfriend, Jake, is everything I thought I'd ever wanted: charming, funny, and incredibly attentive. He knows how to make me laugh, how to listen when I need to vent, and he seems to genuinely care about my feelings. But there’s a layer of my life that he knows nothing about, and I question whether I should ever reveal it to him. Have you ever felt trapped by your own secrets, teetering on the edge of wanting to share but terrified of the fallout?

For the past year, I’ve been living with a burden that’s becoming increasingly heavy. Before I met Jake, I had a different life filled with reckless choices and a wild side that is almost entirely hidden from him. When I think about those times, I can't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment. I was carefree but also naïve, often putting myself in precarious situations that could have gone horribly wrong. It was the kind of life that seemed exciting at the time but ultimately lacked substance. As I delve into this side of myself, I realize how juxtaposed it is with the woman I’ve become since being with him. Would he still love me if he discovered what I had done, or would he see me in a completely different light, one that I can’t control?

The catalysts for my decision to hide this side of me were many. My past includes nights out that ended in chaos, relationships that were toxic, and moments where I put myself at risk, all in the name of fun and adventure. But I want to be seen as a responsible adult, someone who has their life on track. I carefully crafted a narrative to present to Jake; one where I’m a woman who’s made some mistakes but has learned from them, rather than a wild child who danced on the edge of danger. I often wonder if I'm betraying his trust by not being transparent about my history. Is holding back information simply an act of self-preservation, or is it a deceitful act in itself?

Moreover, I often find myself questioning the future we might have together. Will this secret haunt me, or at some point, will I feel compelled to share the truth? When we talk about our dreams and plans for the future, I can see us building a life together filled with happiness and love. But will I always carry the fear of him finding out on my shoulders? Would his perspective on ‘us’ change if he knew the entirety of my past? I can't help but to think: how would you respond if you found out your partner had a side they kept hidden? Would you view them through a lens of judgment or understanding, or would it make you question their integrity?

The thing is, I love Jake and appreciate the stability he brings to my life, but the shadows of my past loom over me, whispering that I am not the person he thinks I am. There’s a nagging sense of hypocrisy in presenting myself as someone who’s grown past that old life when parts of me still feel that urge for freedom and recklessness. Still, I choose to remain silent, at least for now. The thought of losing him terrifies me more than my own memories. Yet I am left wondering: is it fair to keep this piece of myself hidden, or is a relationship built on half-truths worth having at all?

I’m 32, been married to Jake for eight years now, and I gotta say, things ain’t what they used to be, especially when it comes to sex with my husband. Back when we were dating, and even the first couple years of marriage, it was like we couldn’t keep our hands off each other—stolen kisses in the kitchen, sneaking off during family gatherings, the whole deal. But lately, it’s like I’m invisible to him. I catch myself staring in the mirror, poking at the extra softness around my belly, the stretch marks from carrying our two kids, the way my boobs don’t sit as perky as they did at 24. I feel like I’m not as attractive as I was, and it’s eating me up inside. Jake’s still handsome as ever—those broad shoulders, that easy smile—but he barely looks at me that way anymore. We’re lucky if we have sex once a month, and even then, it feels like he’s just going through the motions, like it’s a chore or something. I try to spice things up, you know? I bought this lacy red lingerie set last month, spent way too much on it, and when I slipped it on and walked into the bedroom, he barely glanced up from his phone. “You look nice,” he mumbled, then went right back to scrolling. Nice? Nice is what you say about a new throw pillow, not your wife trying to seduce you. I felt so stupid standing there, like some desperate teenager. I don’t know if it’s me, if I’ve let myself go too much, or if he’s just not into me anymore. I mean, I’m not the same size 6 I was when we met, but I’m not a slob either—I work out when I can, chase our kids around all day, keep the house together. Still, I can’t shake this feeling that he’s comparing me to who I used to be, or worse, to other women. I’ve seen the way he lingers on Instagram models or those stupid ads that pop up, all flawless skin and tiny waists. It’s not like he’s cheating, at least I don’t think so, but it’s like he’s checked out. I’ve tried talking to him, dropping hints, even straight-up asking what’s wrong, but he just shrugs and says he’s tired or stressed from work. And yeah, I get it, his job’s demanding, and we’re both exhausted with a 5-year-old and a 2-year-old running us ragged, but shouldn’t we still want each other? I miss that spark, that heat we used to have, when he’d look at me like I was the only thing that mattered. Now, when we do have sex, it’s so… mechanical. No foreplay, no passion, just quick and done. I’m left lying there, staring at the ceiling, wondering what happened to us. I’ve read articles, listened to podcasts, even bought one of those “rekindle your marriage” books, but it’s hard to fix something when only one of you seems to care. I’ve tried initiating, but getting rejected—or worse, that pitying “okay, fine” vibe—hurts worse than not trying at all. I wonder if he’s bored, or if he’s got some secret resentment he’s not telling me about. Maybe it’s not even about me—maybe he’s struggling with something he won’t share. I know men can have their own issues, like low testosterone or stress, but he won’t talk about it, won’t see a doctor, nothing. I’m scared to push too hard and make it worse, but I’m also scared of what happens if we keep drifting like this. I love Jake, I really do. He’s a great dad, a good provider, but I need more than a roommate. I need to feel wanted, desired, like I’m still his girl, you know? I keep thinking maybe I need to do more—lose the baby weight, get a makeover, be sexier somehow—but deep down, I know it’s not just about how I look. It’s about us, about whatever’s broken between us. I’ve been thinking about suggesting counseling, but I’m terrified he’ll think I’m overreacting or that it’ll make things awkward. What if he says no? What if he doesn’t care enough to try? I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t want to keep feeling like this either—like I’m begging for scraps of affection. I just want my husband back, the one who couldn’t wait to rip my clothes off, who made me feel like I was enough. I don’t know how to get there, but I’m not ready to give up yet. Maybe I’ll try talking to him again, really lay it all out, typos and all, just like this messy, aching heart of mine.

My mom recently told me to “save myself” and get out of my relationship — essentially, to run. Ever since, I can’t stop thinking about it.

My partner and I have been together for just over 4 years. He proposed about a year ago. We’ve had highs and lows, but now I’m wondering if the bad outweighs the good.

He has long-standing mental health struggles: specifically, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Complex PTSD, and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. He’s been slowly learning to manage them better. And to be clear, I don’t think mental illness excuses poor behavior, but I do believe it adds context.

I also have my own issues — I have an anxious attachment style, and while I’ve never been formally diagnosed with anything else, I know I carry some of my own trauma.

My mom knows about some of the incidents we’ve gone through. Sometimes, when he’s triggered or overwhelmed, he shifts into a cold, mean, and distant version of himself. He feels like a different person — which makes sense, given the DID. I try my best to support him and stay patient, but when these episodes last for days, it really affects me. I stop feeling loved or even seen.

He also sometimes talks to new people — sometimes romantically, sometimes not. We’ve had an open relationship on and off because his personality changes have made consistent boundaries complicated. But it’s hard not to feel insecure or like I’m being replaced, even though he says he loves me deeply and always will.

When he shuts down, he leaves. He won’t respond to texts or calls for hours or whole evenings. During the worst of these, I’ve called my mom in tears. Once, I asked him about someone he was messaging, and he exploded. He called me stupid, said I wasn’t “evolved enough” for him, and that he needed someone who trusts and motivates him. That crushed me — I was only asking for reassurance.

After these moments, he usually comes back, apologizes, and says he’s working on changing. He’s loving again, and we go back to “normal.” But it’s a cycle. The dark side always returns.

My mom thinks this is manipulation. She says he’s using me — I pay for most of our life right now, since he’s in school. She believes he apologizes just enough to keep me around because I support him financially and emotionally. She hasn’t seen the best parts of him… but she also hasn’t seen the worst. And if she knew everything, I think she’d try to physically get me out of here.

So now I’m left wondering:

• Is he being emotionally manipulative and possibly abusive?

• Or is this just a deeply broken person doing his best and deserving patience?

• Is my mom being overprotective, or is she seeing something I’ve been too close to recognize?

I’m stuck between wanting to support the person I love and wondering if staying means abandoning myself. What would you do?