Love Stories

I never thought I’d feel this way, but here I am, completely heartbroken. It’s been two weeks since she ended things, and it still feels unreal. We were together for almost four years, and I honestly thought she was the one. We had so many plans—talking about moving in, maybe even getting married someday. But now, all of that is just... gone.

She said she needed "space" and that she wasn’t happy anymore, but she never really explained why. I’ve been replaying every moment in my head, trying to figure out where I went wrong. Did I not show her enough love? Was I too much? Or maybe she just fell out of love with me, and there’s nothing I could have done. I guess I’ll never know.

The worst part is all the little reminders of her everywhere. The playlist she made me still comes on sometimes, and I can’t bring myself to delete it. Her favorite coffee mug is still in my kitchen, and I haven’t had the courage to move it. It’s like everything in my life right now is just one big reminder that she’s not here anymore.

My friends tell me it’ll get better with time, but honestly, I don’t see how. How do you move on from someone who was such a huge part of your life? I’m trying to keep myself busy—going to the gym, meeting up with people—but it all just feels so empty.

I hate feeling this way, but I don’t even know where to start. Has anyone else been through something like this? How do you stop feeling so heartbroken when the person you love is gone? I just want to feel normal again. 😥

I don’t even know where to begin with this. I’ve been with my boyfriend for almost three years, and lately, I’ve started to question everything. At first, he was so charming—he could make anyone laugh, had this way of making me feel like I was the only person in the world. But over time, things started changing, and now I wonder if he’s actually... well, a narcissist.

It’s like he’s got two sides. One moment he’s telling me how much he loves me, and the next, he’s criticizing everything I do, from the way I cook to the people I hang out with. He never seems to take any responsibility for things that go wrong. If we argue, it’s somehow always my fault, and if I try to stand up for myself, he twists things around until I’m the one apologizing. I used to think it was just his way of dealing with stress, but it’s been years now, and nothing seems to change.

A few months ago, I tried to talk to him about how I was feeling. I told him I felt like he only cared about his own needs and didn’t see me as an equal partner. I thought maybe this would be a wake-up call for him, but he just laughed it off, saying I was overreacting and too “emotional.” Since then, things have only gotten worse. It’s like he’s always testing me, seeing how much he can get away with.

I’ve started to read about narcissism, and the signs are all there—the lack of empathy, the need for control, the manipulations. It hurts to think about him like that, but it also feels like the truth I’ve been avoiding. I’m at a point where I don’t know if he can ever change. I’ve read stories online about narcissists changing, but they all seem too good to be true. Can a narcissist really change? Or am I just hoping for something that will never happen?

Sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck in a never-ending episode of a reality show, where everyone’s watching this trainwreck unfold and wondering why I’m still here. If this was really a reality show, I wonder what people would think of me. Would they understand, or would they just think I’m foolish for hoping he’ll be different?

So, I just had the most confusing argument with my boyfriend, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. Out of nowhere, he tells me I’m "too clingy." Clingy?? What does that even mean in a relationship? I honestly don’t get it. We’ve been together for a while now, and I thought being close was a good thing. Isn’t that what being in love is about? Spending time together, sharing our lives, and, you know, actually being there for each other?

Look, I’ll admit I do like to know where he is, what he’s up to, and I text him a lot during the day. But isn’t that just because I care? We both work, and I miss him during the day, so a quick message here and there seems normal to me. I didn’t think it was something that would be seen as "clingy." He even said he loves how I’m always there for him, so now I’m just confused. How can it be both a good and a bad thing?

And, honestly, it's not like I’m following him everywhere or stopping him from hanging out with friends. I just want to be part of his life, and I thought that’s what he wanted too. So now I'm sitting here thinking, what is the actual meaning of clingy in a relationship? Does it mean I’m supposed to back off? Give him space? But then, where’s the line between showing love and being too much?

I guess I’m just frustrated because this word came out of nowhere, and I don’t know how to fix it without feeling like I’m not being myself. Has anyone else dealt with this? What’s the clingy meaning in relationships supposed to mean anyway? Am I overreacting here?

Hey everyone, my name's Mike. I don’t really know if this is the right place to ask, but I’m kinda desperate for answers. How long does it actually take to get over someone? I know, it probably sounds like I'm overthinking, but I honestly can't seem to shake it. I broke up with Sarah almost three months ago, and the feelings just won’t let up. Every time I try to focus on something else, she just pops back into my mind. I feel like I’m stuck in this loop where I can't move forward, but I also can't go back.

We were together for almost two years, and we had so many plans—vacations we wanted to take, moving in together, all that. It wasn't a perfect relationship (not by a long shot), but it felt real, you know? Even the little things, like grabbing coffee on Saturdays or having movie marathons on rainy days… they’re haunting me now. I’m not sure if it’s the routine or the actual person I miss.

It’s not like I haven’t tried to move on. I’ve been going out more with friends, hitting the gym, and even focusing more on work. But somehow, it feels like nothing quite fills the gap she left. I thought about dating again, but even just thinking about getting to know someone new feels exhausting. What if it takes forever to get over her? What if I’m just going to feel this way forever?

People say that time heals all wounds, but is there some kind of timeline I’m missing? Some people seem to move on in a month or two, and here I am, still struggling. It’s hard not to feel like there’s something wrong with me. Anyway, if anyone has been through something similar, how long did it take you to finally feel normal again? I just want to know that there’s some light at the end of this tunnel. Thanks for listening.

I'm 15 and recently became sexually active, I thought it was okay to not use condoms because I'm on the pill but I found out I've been taking my pill incorrectly and I'm now scared I could be pregnant 🤟

Struggling with a difficult phase, I'm sitting down to share something that's been troubling me lately. Over the past several months, I've found myself grappling with an increasingly negative outlook towards my romantic life, particularly around my challenges in finding a girlfriend. Initially, I chalked up my lack of success to bad luck or just being in a slump. But as time passed, the rejections piled up, and I had to fight harder against some toxic thoughts creeping into my mind.

The tipping point for me was when someone I had grown close to over about nine months rejected my romantic advances just because of my hair color. Her exact words were something akin to, "You're a great friend, but I'm just not attracted to your hair." This rejection based on something so superficial was a new kind of pain, especially since she and I shared a deep connection otherwise.

Seeing other men, who didn’t treat women well, face no repercussions in social settings like clubs further messed with my head. This observation seemed to validate the unjust world view I was trying to resist, which some call the 'chad' mindset - where seemingly unkind or arrogant men appear to succeed effortlessly with women.

This struggle came to a head recently when a friend’s girlfriend organized a group trip that included me and one of her single friends. It seemed like a perfect opportunity to meet someone new in a less pressured setting. However, inconsistencies in her availability – being free one day and not the next – left me feeling frustrated and jilted yet again.

I am actively trying to better myself – hitting the gym, focusing on advancing my career, and reconnecting with sports to regain my old form. Despite these efforts, my confidence is shaky, and the fear of spiraling into an 'incel' mindset – where one blames women for their romantic failures – haunts me.

Imagining myself in a reality show discussing these issues, I wonder how it would be perceived. Would the audience empathize with my struggle, or would they judge me for these creeping negative thoughts? It’s a risky exposure that could either garner support or backlash, reflecting the polarized views of society on such matters.

If anyone out there has overcome similar hurdles or can offer perspective, your guidance would be invaluable right now.

I’m genuinely seeking some advice on a situation that persists at home, and I need an outsider’s perspective. My wife makes less money than I do, which is fine, but her default is to handcraft gifts for people. It’s a noble gesture for sure, but it becomes problematic when the recipient, like myself, would prefer something specific that isn't handmade.

Here's an illustration from my own experiences. Over the last few years, every gift from her has been something she made. Regardless of what I explicitly ask for, whether it's inexpensive or not, I end up receiving a handmade present. Take last Christmas, for instance. I had my eye on a few gadgets, but I unwrapped a hand-knitted scarf instead. Don't get me wrong, her gifts are thoughtful, but it’s been the same every time. For her part, I always make sure I buy things that she lists.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was my recent birthday. I didn’t ask for much, just a single book worth about $25 and even sent her the direct link to buy it. Instead, I opened my gift to find homemade bookmarks. Not only were they not the kind of bookmarks I prefer (I like wooden ones and these were cloth), but it also felt like my requests were ignored.

I guess my disappointment was visible because she immediately asked what’s wrong. I confronted her directly this time, explaining how these weren't what I wanted at all—reminding her of our numerous discussions on this topic. I returned the bookmarks to her, a bit abruptly, perhaps, and went out to get the book myself.

Upon returning, we ended up in a big argument with her accusing me of being ungrateful and calling me names. I understand that she puts effort into these gifts, but I feel like my wishes aren’t being respected either.

Imagine such a scenario playing out in a reality show! Likely, the situation would be magnified. Viewers would be picking sides, with some sympathizing with the wife’s heartfelt creations while others might side with the husband’s desire for gifts that actually meet his tastes. Comments and debates would light up social media, maybe even spark a trending hashtag or two, as people chimed in on whether it’s the thought or the gift itself that counts more.

How do you think this would play out on a reality TV show?? Would people see me as demanding or would they understand where I’m coming from?

Typing this out makes me feel a bit uneasy. I really adore my girlfriend, Laura. From her smile to her sense of humor, she's just amazing. We started dating back in college and now we're nearing our 30s (and yes, saying "almost 30" stings a bit).

Recently, I was invited to a birthday celebration by some new friends, who were eager to meet Laura since I always speak so highly of her.

On the day of the party, Laura looked stunning in stylish jeans and a charming crop top. I noticed she hadn’t put on any makeup, and casually asked if she planned to wear some. She reacted negatively, suggesting I was treating her like some kind of trophy, which was not my intention at all. Mind you, it’s not as though I ever insist on her wearing makeup. Whether we’re going out on dates or anywhere else, I’m not concerned about how she looks. However, she usually applies makeup when heading out with her friends.

Personally, if I were meeting my girlfriend's friends, I’d make an effort to look my best, just to give a good impression and sort of complement her. We've been together so long, we're practically family; I see her as an extension of myself and the other way around.

I do get that it’s not my place to dictate her choices in appearance. So, pondering over it, I can see how my question might have been out of line. Hit me with your thoughts,

Am I being unreasonable for having asked her about makeup?

Now, imagine if this situation unfolded on a reality show. Cameras rolling, capturing every nuance of the conversation and broadcasting my question to millions. The audience would probably be split. Some might empathize with my intentions, understanding the societal pressures of looking ‘perfect’ in social settings. Others might fiercely defend Laura’s right to present herself however she feels comfortable, criticizing me for placing undue importance on appearances. The episode would likely spark debate among viewers, making it a pivotal moment in the show.

I've been in a loving relationship with my boyfriend, Alex, for two years now. Just last week, he made the romantic gesture of proposing to me, which of course, I joyfully accepted. Following this happy event, I met up with my girlfriends for a weekend brunch to celebrate and discuss everything about the engagement and upcoming wedding plans. Many of them are already married and were eager to share their experiences and advice.

As we were enjoying our meal, one of my good friends, Megan (F33), noted the necklace I was wearing. It was a special gift from Alex, engraved with what would be my future initials after we get married, combining my first name and his last name. I've always been excited about taking his last name, and this necklace was his way of symbolizing our future together.

However, Megan's reaction was far from what I expected. Upon learning that Alex had gifted the necklace, she launched into a critique, accusing him of maintaining "antiqued" cultural views, and labeled him as controlling and possessive. I tried to clarify that it was my choice to take his last name and that the necklace was a symbol of our commitment, not ownership. But Megan wasn't having any of it and described my cherished gift as a "dog collar," implying Alex was treating me as property, which she deemed misogynistic.

Frustrated by her harsh words, I retorted sharply, "Well, you should be glad because nobody will ever claim you in such a patriarchal way." Tears welled up in Megan's eyes and she hurried out of the brunch. While most of my friends supported me, mentioning that Megan was out of line, a couple of them later suggested I should apologize, especially since topics related to marriage are particularly sensitive for Megan as she's the oldest and still single—a fact that has visibly upset her at other weddings.

Honestly, I didn’t mean to hurt her, but was it wrong to defend my relationship and the symbols we choose to represent it?

Imagine if this scene played out on a reality TV show. The cameras would zoom in on everyone's expressions, capturing the shock, the confrontation, and ultimately, the tears. Viewers would likely be split. Some would applaud standing up against harsh judgment, while others might criticize the choice of words, calling for more sensitivity. Social media would buzz with opinions and polls, perhaps even igniting broader discussions about cultural expectations and individual choices in relationships.

Was my response to Megan over the top?

At 25, I often find myself in heated debates with my partner, 24, about matters of faith. As a convert to Islam, my beliefs are deeply rooted, while she embraces a form of spirituality shaped by her Hindu background, yet professes a belief in all religions. She prides herself on being open-minded. Personally, I respect her views profoundly and never criticize her spiritual practices.

However, she frequently criticizes organized religion, openly dismissing rituals like fasting and prayer—practices I hold dear—as pointless. While I'm not strictly orthodox in my religious observance, occasionally breaking some rules, my faith in Islam and its teachings remains unwavering.

She accuses me of being inflexible and closed-minded, suggesting that true openness requires accepting all religious beliefs as one’s own. While I enjoy learning about various faiths, I don't believe it's fair to be coerced into adopting practices that conflict with my beliefs. Although I'm open to participating in non-religious activities influenced by other faiths, such as yoga or zen gardening, I draw the line at actions like praying to deities other than Allah, which leads to friction between us. She’s even hinted at ending our relationship over our differing views on religious tolerance.

If this situation were part of a reality show, viewers might be divided. Some might sympathize with my desire to stay true to my faith, while others might applaud her inclusive approach to spirituality. No doubt, it would make for some intense episodes, drawing a mix of criticism and support from the audience, possibly fueling a controversial debate on religious tolerance and personal boundaries in relationships.

At 18, I, Sophie, have been in a wonderful relationship with my boyfriend, Ethan, 20, for a bit over a year now. Ethan is incredible—attentive, kind, and endlessly considerate. He hasn’t let me pay for a single dinner since we’ve been together! Before Ethan, I was dating Jake, 22, who ended up betraying me by secretly being with Ethan’s sister, Mia, 21. At that time, I didn't know either Ethan or Mia existed. Jake lied for a whole month, claiming that the rumors were just a bad joke gone wrong. I naively believed him.

Back then, Mia seemed nice but became hard to be around because of the spreading rumors, which made social outings unpleasant. Eventually, I drifted from my old friends and found myself a new circle, which surprisingly included both Mia and Ethan. Ethan and I hit it off right from the start and began going out more, often just the two of us. After a sweet kiss at a party, things felt perfect. I talked with Mia beforehand to clear the air and Ethan soon expressed how much he cared about me. Within two months, we were officially a couple.

The only real snag has been my brother, Jake, 23, who took the whole Mia debacle pretty poorly. Despite Mia and I resolving our differences—turns out Jake hadn't told her about me either, and she was really apologetic—Jake still holds a grudge. Ethan’s family, however, has been nothing but welcoming, treating me as one of their own. My parents adore Ethan; they see how well he treats me, but Jake gets irritated whenever Ethan's around or even mentioned.

And here's a thought: imagine if all of this drama unfolded on a reality TV show! How intense would that be with cameras capturing every awkward family dinner and each reconciliation? The drama would certainly be dialed up. I can almost hear the audience’s reactions during each revelation and each step forward in mine and Ethan’s relationship.

At 26, I find myself eight months deep into my first pregnancy, and admittedly, it's been more physically taxing than I envisioned. Daily tasks like tying my own shoes, or running simple errails have become challenging, primarily due to my significant size increase and the added complications of anemia. Thankfully, my fiancé, who is 27, has been my rock, assisting with much enthusiasm, shared by most of my family. The singular exception to this support has been my younger sister, Liz, who is 24.

Liz and I have experienced growing tension since I announced my pregnancy. She attributes this tension to changes in me, but I can't help but see her husband as a contributing factor. They've been married for two years, and he exerts a lot youthful of control over her life, insiting on being present during any family interactions and employing her in his business to 'keep an eye' on her. He justifies it by claiming he's warding off misinformation about him.

It's clear to me that he's manipulating her, keeping Liz under his thumb, and, consequentially, causing her to distance herself from us. She's become strangely bitter, especially about my pregnancy, making cutting remarks whenever we interact. She even harshly declined an invite to my baby shower, comparing it to watching paint dry.

Previously, Liz was fond of the idea of having children, but post-marriage, her tune changed drastically to deeming them a mere waste of time and money. Her transformation has been hurtful and puzzling.

The situation escalated last week during a visit to our mother’s house in our hometown, where I plan to give birth. Despite initial calm, Liz and her husband's belittling attitudes emerged, deriding every display of my pregnancy discomfort. One particularly tough night, after a severe bout of nausea took me to the clinic for treatment, we returned home to find them awake and waiting, which led to Liz erupting over the supposed triviality of my condition.

Pushed to my limit, I confronted her bitterly, pointing out the potential unhappiness in her marriage influencing her behavior towards me. The confrontation ended with me leaving to stay at a hotel for the remainder of my pregnancy.

In pondering the aftermath, a thought strikes: if this were a reality show, the dynamics and intense fallout could indeed make for riveting, albeit distressive viewing. Audiences tend to have mixed reactions to such real-life drama, rooting for resolutions or taking sides based on the relatability of the situations or the characters involved.

If the events of my life were part of a reality show, how might viewers perceive our family conflict?

I matched with a woman on Tinder, and we had a short-lived romance that spanned a few months. She confessed that I was her first Tinder outing following a lengthy hiatus from the dating scene. Our connection fell apart after she disclosed that she was seeing another guy on the side, which made me feel exploited.

Not long after, I started seeing another Tinder match who shared that this was also her first date in a long time following a traumatic breakup of her engagement. I was understanding about her past.

It seems that this narrative is recurrent for me. Perhaps my easy-going and well-put-together demeanor, combined with being fairly attractive and easygoing, makes me the ideal first-Tinder-date type. Normally, these dates transition smoothly from a match to meeting for drinks, but they often reveal a lack of real chemistry and we part ways. It's left me pondering if I'm merely a stepping stone, warming them up for "better" dates.

From the onset with the most recent woman, I indicated my interest in a serious relationship and tried repeatedly to understand her intentions across multiple dates. Her responses were elusive. Moreover, she jokingly mentioned exploiting my professional contacts for a job opportunity in our shared industry, which added to my concerns. Despite my tentative feelings, it ended when she phoned to break up with me, admitting she had developed emotional connections with someone else.

Having experienced several breakups, I'm usually quite resilient, but this time I was overwhelmed with emotion. I felt like I had been instrumental in helping her regain her trust in dating, only for her to transfer those newly revived emotions to another relationship.

Really, it’s like I was just there to prepare her for the next guy.

My feelings are hurt; it feels like I was used.

She thinks I’m being unrealistic.

Am I mistaken here?

If this all played out on a reality show, the cameras capturing every awkward date and emotional moment, I wonder how the audience would react. Would they see my genuine efforts and sympathize with my feeling used? Or perhaps they'd critique my inability to see the signs and cheer her on for finding a more suitable match? It's one thing to live through it privately, but having thousands watch and weigh in might be a whole other level of drama.

Me and my best mate Mark have been friends since high school, so for over 10 years now. A girl named Sarah joined our friend group and hung out with us quite a bit. I started to like her, but so did he. About a month after we met her, he told me that he liked her. I tried to wingman him while continuing to shut out my emotions as I've done since a very traumatic year that I went through. He continued trying to talk to her without much success for a few months/a year. She went on a trip to America and started to talk a lot with me, and we got to know each other quite well.

At this point, I still emotionally distanced myself from her since I knew he liked her. While she was in America, I got asked out on a date by another girl and suddenly started going through a lot of emotions I hadn't felt in a long time and realized that I actually got butterflies when Sarah talked to me. I started talking to her a lot more and she helped me buy new clothes when she came back from America. I talked to Mark to ask if he was still trying with her, and he said he had mixed feelings.

Me and Sarah made plans to go to the beach today and while we were there, we started talking. I got caught up in the moment and asked her if she would like to try dating. She said yes. Later that night, I wanted to be clear with my friend about what happened and that I was going to start dating Sarah. He got really pissed and hung up, and now I feel like an asshole. I wanted to get an outside opinion on if I actually was an asshole. Sorry for the rant, and I already have an idea of what the answer is but want to know your thoughts.

If I was on a reality show, I wonder how the reaction would be. Would people think I'm a backstabber or just a guy who followed his heart? How would the audience judge this situation?