Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

basically my dad passed away almost two years ago (july 18) and the only time i have visited him was when we buried him.

he died of a heart attack cause he was drunk at the beach when it was hot. he had a drinking problem for as long as i can remember but it was particularly bad the year he passed.

i remember that back then i had just started high school. between all the shit he was pulling (i wont list them but it is pretty bad) and puberty i got very hateful and even got into drugs and hanging out with the wrong people. i really hated him back then, because i felt like he was all that was wrong with the family (very untrue).

now that ive matured and healed a little, i wanna visit him. all along, i never really hated him. i love him and i hope he knew that when he passed.

also im sober too, my drugs phase thankfully didnt last long

when he was sober, my dad was a chill guy. although i didnt get to see him sober a lot, it pissed me off how good his potential as a father was.

after a while, i grew to understand the dynamics of my family that led him down this path. he did bear a part of the blame, but ive come to understand that the alcohol was just his way of coping.

when drunk, my dad once said that when he dies, he hopes i will visit his grave because he wants to bear my 'beautiful voice'.

the reason why i have gone yet is because i didnt feel ready to fully accept the fact that hes really gone and isnt coming back. i have so many regrets that i cant even list them all

i really wanna go, but i dont know what i would say.

i love you dad, if you can see me. i miss you more than i thought was possible

Hello. My english isn't that good and I don't know where to start so I'm sorry if this sounds confusing but I just really need to let it out my heart

My dad told me that school will be starting in 6 days. I'm nervous?

In my whole years of living, Ive only went to school for 2 years but that stopped when I was 12. Ever since then I haven't went due to stupid idiotic reasons. Reason number one being I was too anxious because the whole thing was new to me. I wasn't used to people I was only used to my family. Reason number 2 was because I didn't want to waste money

When I go, it'll be my first time actually meeting people my age. Or actually meeting anyone other than my family in years. Yeah I go out but I'm not allowed to go out alone so I rarely ever speak to anyone other than my family and it's always going out to the same places constantly, I'm grateful but you can imagine the boredom.

I just look really bad right now. In 2024 I was really miserable so I kept eating so much and now I gained so much weight. I planned to lose it and prepare myself for school with studying at home but I was too busying being an idiot, too busy being miserable. I told myself so many times "Ill start tomorrow" without realizing the day is so close

I know looks don't matter, I'm just really insecure because of the way people have treated me my whole life just based on my weight.

I can read pretty well but I'm so slow at it so I'm nervous at starting school

I'm not blaming my dad but sometimes.. I wish he actually warned. Actually taught me, instead of just throwing the decision to go to school on a 12 year old who doesn't know anything but "I feel anxious" again I'm not blaming my dad. This is my fault

I can't help but wonder what's the point of going? I'm 16. I don't really see the point in me going to school now to study a grade that isn't even for my age. And I never will get to the grade my age should be in and it breaks my heart, never having any normal school experiences, or any nice experience. Other than reading my favorite webcomics and watching cartoons. I keep seeing such cool and awesome teenagers having fun together and I can't get that. The only thing I get is my father telling me "too late to be like the girls your age now". The only thing I find comfort in is pathetic which is the character " Steven universe" because I feel like me and him are alike in many things. Like when someone asked him what grade he was in and he said "16th...?" Because he didn't know what to say other than his age. But he's just a character. I'm stuck in my own fantasy world to escape the truth about reality and I'm stuck in it everyday imagining mage stories and that's really the only thing keeping me happy but the happiness feels off. I know I can just "get up" and get my life in order. I'm aware that time doesn't stop for anyone and I'm aware that me just pacing around my room for hours everyday being upset won't do me any good but I just can't help it. I really can't help it

Anyway, just because I don't see the point in me going to school doesn't mean I won't go. I'm still gonna go because what else can I do? I'm just going to study, go to school, do what is needed to do and that's all.

I'll still feel my heart break whenever I remember the days when I would stay at home changing diapers and cleaning while my siblings came back from school talking about their friends. I'll still feel resentment about how I'm expected to act like an adult meanwhile my siblings get to have a normal life with no expectations of acting like a mother or a housewife or a aunt or an adult

Theres really nothing remarkable about my life. It's just the same day constantly

But that's just life and there's nothing I can do about it no matter how hard I try to think of a solution I can't

But it's okay. I haven't even lived 2 decades yet there's still time and I'll still keep my head up and study

And yes I know this is all my fault. I'm very very aware, this isn't meant to blame my dad or anyone else. Im just talking about my feelings to let them out

ok so like i don’t even kno what happened. one day he was all sweet n talkin to me in class, laughin at my dumb jokes, sayin good morning on snap, just bein cute n stuff... and now? it’s like i don’t even exist. he don’t look at me, don’t reply, don’t even open my messages sometimes. i keep re-readin our convos like, did i say somethin wrong?? was i weird?? was i too much?? i swear i been thinkin about it nonstop and it’s makin me feel like i’m goin crazy. we used to talk every day and now it's just silence. and it hurts way more than i thought it would. i didn’t even realize how much i liked him until he started actin like i was invisible. like bruh what changed???

he was the first boy who made me feel kinda special, u kno? not like those fake boys who just wanna mess around. he actually listened to me, asked me about my day, remembered the lil things i said. he used to sit by me at lunch, even helped me with math one time (even tho he lowkey sucks at math lol). i thought it meant something, fr. like we had a thing, even if it wasn’t official or whatever. nd now it’s like he flipped a switch. i saw him talkin to some other girl the other day and he smiled at her in that same way he used to smile at me and ngl, it felt like a punch in the stomach. i told myself i wouldn’t catch feelings but i did and now here i am, listenin to sad songs like a dummy n tryna not to cry in front of ppl.

i asked my friends what i should do n they all said stuff like “forget him” or “he’s not worth it” but that don’t help. i don’t wanna just forget him. i wanna understand what i did wrong. like, was i too boring? too clingy? not pretty enough? it’s messin with my head. every time my phone lights up i hope it’s him but it never is. i be dreamin about him textin me like “hey sorry i was busy” or “i miss u” but it never happens. just more silence. and the worst part? i still like him. i still wanna talk to him. and i hate that. why do i care so much about someone who clearly don’t care about me anymore?

i keep tryna tell myself that if someone can just stop talkin to u like that, they were never really yours in the first place. but it don’t make it hurt any less. i miss how it felt when we were vibin, when i thought maybe, just maybe, this boy actually liked me for me. now i feel dumb. like i made it all up in my head or somethin. maybe he got bored. maybe he found someone better. maybe he never liked me at all. i dunno. but what i do kno is that bein ignored like this sucks. it makes u feel small. invisible. like u don’t even matter. and i’m tryna move on, i swear i am. but it’s hard when the only person u wanna hear from is the one who won’t even look at u. so yeah... why is he ignoring me? i wish i knew. i really do.

Okay, so I really don’t know what to do right now. I’ve been dating my boyfriend for like, almost a year, and it’s been good, i guess? But lately, I keep asking myself this one question over and over: Should I break up with my boyfriend? And the fact that I’m even asking that makes me feel terrible because it’s not like he’s done something super wrong or anything. It’s just... ugh, I don’t even know how to explain it.

First of all, he’s not a bad guy or whatever. Like, he’s super sweet sometimes, and when we first started dating, he’d do all these cute things, like sending me good morning texts or surprising me with snacks during lunch. But now? It’s like he’s stopped trying. He doesn’t text me first anymore, barely even asks how I’m doing, and when we hang out, he’s always on his phone playing stupid games. It’s like I’m not even there half the time. I’ve tried talking to him about it, but he just says, “I’m busy” or “I didn’t know it was a big deal.” Like, hello?? I’m your girlfriend. Shouldn’t you care how i feel?

Then there’s the whole jealousy thing. He gets SO jealous over the dumbest stuff. Like last week, I was just talking to one of my guy friends at school—literally just talking—and later, he was all moody and weird about it. He kept saying stuff like, “Why were you laughing so much with him?” and “You don’t act like that around me anymore.” Like, excuse me? I can have friends! It’s so exhausting trying to constantly reassure him that I’m not cheating or whatever.

But at the same time, I feel bad even thinking about breaking up because I know he cares about me. Like, he’s the type of guy who would defend me if someone was being mean or walk me home if it’s late. And there are moments where I still feel like he loves me, you know? Like, the other day, he randomly brought me coffee because I had a bad day at school. Stuff like that makes me think maybe I’m just overthinking all this and being too harsh on him. But then, the next day, he’ll do something that makes me so frustrated, and I’m right back to wondering if I should break up with him.

It doesn’t help that everyone around me seems to have an opinion. My best friend keeps telling me I deserve better and that if he’s making me feel like this, then I should just end it. But then some of my other friends are like, “Relationships have ups and downs, and you just have to work through them.” So which one is it? Am I supposed to just stick it out and hope it gets better, or is this a sign that it’s time to let go?

Oh, and my parents don’t even like him. They think he’s “too immature” and that I could be focusing on school instead of dealing with boyfriend drama. And honestly? Sometimes I think they might be right. I feel like I spend more time stressing about this relationship than actually enjoying it. But does that mean I should break up with him? Or does every couple go through stuff like this?

The thing is, I do care about him. I really do. But I also feel like I’m losing myself a little bit in this relationship. Like, I used to hang out with my friends all the time and do fun stuff after school, but now it’s like everything revolves around him. If he’s in a bad mood, it ruins my whole day. If he’s happy, I feel like I can finally relax. It’s exhausting, and I don’t know if that’s normal or if I’m just stuck in something unhealthy.

Ugh, I feel like I’m rambling, but I seriously don’t know what to do. Part of me is scared to break up with him because what if I regret it? What if I realize I made a huge mistake, and by then, it’s too late? But then the other part of me is like, what if staying with him means I keep feeling this way? I don’t want to wake up one day and realize I wasted all this time on someone who doesn’t make me happy.

If you’ve ever felt like this, please tell me what you did. Did you break up, or did you try to work things out? How do you even know if it’s time to end things? Right now, I just feel so confused and stuck. I mean, I like him, but do I like him enough to keep dealing with all this? And if I’m already asking myself, “Should I break up with my boyfriend?” does that mean deep down I already know the answer?

Eight years ago, after the birth of our twin children, my former partner and I decided to go our separate ways. We had been dating for just over a year when she became pregnant, and although we tried to stay together for the children, it wasn't meant to be. She soon found someone new and yearned to pursue that relationship. Our split, while peaceful, marked the beginning of a challenging co-parenting arrangement.

Initially, co-parenting went smoothly. However, when my ex remarried to a man who was also a single father, the dynamics began to shift. He had a daughter the same age as our twins and insisted that I should treat her as part of my family, expecting me to include her in gift-giving and outings with my own children. This demand complicated our interactions and subsequently led us to adopt a parallel parenting approach to avoid conflicts.

We share custody equally, and neither of us pays child support since we both have the children for equal amounts of time. I maintain a close bond with my twins and, during my allotted time, I focus on them without including the other children from their mother's household. Over time, their family has expanded to include a stepsister, a stepcousin who moved in three years ago, and a younger half-sister, adding more complexity to the family structure. Another child is possibly on the way.

The current disagreement stems from an upcoming class trip in November. The school our children attend is rather small, leading to shared classes between them and their stepsiblings. This trip, to an interactive museum, is quite costly, but I can afford it and my twins are excited to go. I decided to pay for them, but this decision didn't sit well with my ex and her husband. They felt that I should also pay for their stepsiblings' tickets or else let none of the children go. They argued this would avoid any feelings of exclusion and maintain family unity. I disagreed, emphasizing that it was my right and decision during my parenting time. This led to accusations from my ex’s husband that I was undermining their family dynamics and fostering resentment among the kids.

Do you support my decision? What do you think? Am I wrong?

Growing up, I always sensed a strange tension in my family, but I never quite understood it until I pieced together old memories and stories told by relatives. My mother, who had always dreamed of having a household bustling with daughters, was disheartened at my birth purely because of my gender. I am a 16-year-old male, the unintentional foil to her fantasies. It was evident from day one; she wept in the hospital when she learned I was a boy, even momentarily resisted holding me. All of this was inadvertently recorded and it's painful to watch. During those first crucial days, it was my paternal grandmother who stepped up to nurture me, featured in most of my early baby pictures cradling me in her arms.

My grandmother essentially raised me until she tragically passed away from a brain bleed when I was eight. After that, I was left in the care of a mother who had finally received her wish—a daughter, my younger sister Lily, born two years after me. The difference in treatment between us was like night and day. Lily became the center of my mother's world: the bigger room, elaborate birthday celebrations, and a mountain of Christmas presents exclusively for her—sometimes as many as 25 gifts sourced from my mom alone, while I would receive a solitary, often lackluster, present.

Interaction between my mom and myself dwindled to the bare minimum and often flared into arguments fueled by years of pent-up frustration and neglect. My father, who played the traditional role of the aloof provider, rarely intervened or even noticed the palpable disparity in affection and attention.

During a recent family gathering at my maternal grandparents' home, Mom couldn't stop lauding Lily for a school project and bragging about the new scooter she bought her, along with a custom helmet and a personalized lock. Unable to hold it in any longer, I let my feelings be heard. I openly criticized her for her blatant favoritism, which only led to a scolding from my grandparents. They described my issues with my mom as "little troubles" stemming from her initial gender disappointment and labeled my outburst as a lack of compassion.

Imagine if my situation was played out on a reality show. Cameras capturing my mother's enthusiastic pampering of Lily contrasted sharply with her mechanical interactions with me. Would the audience empathize with my feelings of exclusion and neglect, or would they criticize me for antagonizing a clearly biased mother? How dramatic and telling those episodes would be, highlighting the raw emotions and complex dynamics of our family life.

Would viewers at home understand the strain of being less favored merely because of gender, or would they side with my mother, assuming I should simply get over it and show more understanding?

I'm just gonna refer to this person as Vi. So Vi was my close friend and also former crush. I had a huge crush on Vi when I was around 9 up until I was 14. Just for context, both me and Vi are female. When I confessed, Vi explained that she finds it disgusting to date a woman. At the time, I was really shattered by this and I still am until now. But let's fast forward to recently, I've finally managed to move on and fall in love with this girl who I'll just call as Kiwi. Since Vi was like a best friend to me regardless of what she said before, I told her that I really like Kiwi. I originally thought she was gonna be happy that I've finally stopped bothering her or anything. She got mad instead. She yelled at me for liking Kiwi and said that Kiwi is a big red flag for me. Even though she has never met nor talked to Kiwi before. This went on for a really long time until Kiwi got a girlfriend. Obviously, I was really heartbroken by this and tried to vent to Vi about this. But Vi dismissed my feelings and kept saying that she was right all along and I was just the idiot who fell in love. She also added that no one will like me as much as she does at all and I should be with her instead. If Vi had told me that years ago, I would've accepted it and gladly be her girlfriend. But now I really like Kiwi and I can't really just drop my current crush for someone who called me disgusting before. I told her I wasn't interested and apologised because I don't have any feelings for her anymore. She got even more furious after that comment and told me that I will never find anyone and I'll always suffer in romantical relationships. (P.S, I feel like this is a curse because it's true somehow. I am still unable to find love until today and I still suffer in finding love.) After that had happened, Vi went into my account without my knowledge, screenshotted the vents that I had vented to my friend about Kiwi getting a girlfriend and she posted it. I tried confronting Kev about this but she ignored me and changed the topic every single time. Soon, I started to give up and trying to communicate and it seems like she had also noticed it. But instead of trying to talk to me again, she spread a bunch of rumours about me online and told everyone all my secrets. The rumours got too intense at some point so I decided to just block her. After blocking her, I've received a few screenshots from friends. The screenshots consist of Vi telling everyone that she's glad that I've left her and I am a horrible monster. She also added that since I'm gone now she could easily spread even more rumours about me and laugh at me. Furthermore, she also wished that I would off myself one day and added how annoying I was and she had waited for this day to come for ages. Now I'm really wondering what I've actually did wrong and am I actually someone who messed up.

I felt so uncomfortable when my mum wanted to know about my dad, like I'm some sort of a private detective for her. She could ask it herself to him. Like if my grandparents (dad side) wanted to buy a car she asked me instead of him. She shushed me when i was too loud it was weird. I've also felt a bit disgusted lately, I can't let go how she whispers to my ear about my dad. Idk it just makes me feel uncomfortable remembering that and reminding myself of that.

So, here I am, 21 years old and navigating the murky waters of relationships. My boyfriend recently proposed the idea of a DDLG relationship. Now, I’m not going to lie—I had no clue what that was. A quick Google search later, and I was hit with a wave of confusion and anxiety. DDLG stands for "Daddy Dom/Little Girl." The concept of engaging in a dynamic where one partner adopts a more parental or authoritative role while the other assumes a more youthful or submissive role just feels... strange to me. I mean, sure, it’s somewhat popular in certain circles, but that doesn’t mean it’s for everyone, right? 😟 It honestly threw me for a loop. All the discussions surrounding restraint, dominance, and playfulness sounded intriguing on the surface, but when I really started to think about the implications, I began to second-guess everything. I’ve always prided myself on being independent and assertive, which made the idea of being “little” feel unnerving. Am I supposed to act like a child or something? That just seems so far removed from who I am.

To make matters even more complicated, I began to wonder about the emotional dynamics at play. Trust is key in any relationship, but does venturing into this territory require a different level of trust? Can I really be vulnerable enough to rely on someone for that kind of care while simultaneously being afraid of crossing boundaries? I am all for intimacy and connection; however, I can't shake the feeling that something might get lost in translation. Plus, there’s a whole lot of stigma surrounding this kink—I mean, what would my friends think if they found out? Would they judge me? Would they perceive me as naïve or foolish? It’s enough to make anyone feel uneasy. And then there’s the concern about consent and negotiation. If I enter this world, how do I even navigate it respectfully? What if I find myself uncomfortable when things get too intense? It leaves me in this sea of doubt, feeling like I’m teetering on the edge of something that could either be freeing or entirely detrimental to my mental health;

Every Saturday morning, I make it a ritual to visit a bustling local coffee shop to study. The ambient noise strangely helps me concentrate, so I arrive at 8 a.m. right when they open to secure a spot. The setup includes two-person tables, a few larger ones, and countertop seating. I generally prefer a two-person table against the wall for a bit of privacy and so that passersby can't sneak a peek at my laptop screen.

Just yesterday, at around 9 a.m., while engrossed in my work, a woman, let's call her Carol, decided to sit at my table without asking. This irked me somewhat as my personal space felt invaded, but I chose to ignore it assuming she was temporarily there waiting for her order. However, it soon became apparent that she had other plans. She had been conversing with another woman in line, whom we'll call Janet. Janet mentioned that they might need to get their food to go since no tables were free. Carol casually gestured towards me, indicating they planned to take over my table. This assumption of theirs added to my irritation since it felt like I was merely an obstacle in their plans.

As expected, Janet approached me after placing their order and asked if I could shift to the counter so Carol could sit at my table, citing her recent back surgery which made counters uncomfortable for her. I refused, explaining I also found the counters uncomfortable and didn't have sufficient space for all my study materials. Janet labeled me rude and inconsiderate and even questioned why I was there since I apparently wasn't eating. I clarified that I had indeed purchased breakfast and a drink. Their persistence continued until a coffee shop employee intervened. I confirmed that they were bothering me, resulting in Carol and Janet being asked to leave.

When I later shared this incident at home, expecting some support from my roommate, I received a lukewarm response. She acknowledged that Carol and Janet were rude, but also hinted that maybe I could've been more accommodating given the crowded nature of the cafe. My sister even compared it to not offering a seat to someone with disabilities on public transport, which I disagreed with vehemently as café seating doesn't equate to essential transportation needs. Both seemed to imply that Carol's and Janet's need to be seated was imperative, leaving me conflicted.

Reflecting on this, I wonder how this scenario would play out if it were part of a reality TV show. Often, these shows thrive on conflict and pushing social boundaries, so likely, viewers might find the drama enthralling. Would the audience side with me for standing my ground, or would they view me as the villain for not accommodating someone with a medical condition despite the discomfort it would cause me?

For those used to reality TV dynamics, it could be an interesting discussion on personal space versus social responsibility.

Would I be the villain in a reality TV show situation?

The focus of this story isn't to portray myself as the victim; I understand some may disagree with me, and that's perfectly okay—this is Reddit, after all. Here's what has been going on. I’m a 23-year-old woman, and recently my friendship with my best friend Sara, who is 24, has deteriorated. We've known each other for nearly a decade and rarely had disagreements, except for one that led us to not speak for a week. We were incredibly close, texting daily and meeting up two or three times a week.

Lately, however, our interactions have changed. We still text, but our responses are delayed, and we last met on March 20th when we bumped into each other at an outing with another friend. Before that evening, I honestly can't recall the last time we met; it might have been late February or early March. Sara has expressed her concern about our drifting relationship on multiple occasions. I acknowledge that I've been less attentive to maintaining our bond due to my busy schedule.

Each time she has brought up her feelings, I've apologized and tried to improve by texting more frequently and making plans to hang out. Despite my efforts, she feels my presence is forced. This cycle of discussion and attempted resolution has been ongoing since the end of last year. She recently suggested we take a break, feeling genuinely unhappy and not wanting to force happiness. She's also mentioned that despite our conversations about the issue, nothing seems to improve. She wishes for us both to find happiness, whether together or apart.

Admittedly, I've been overwhelmed with work. I'm also saving for a trip and picked up a weekend job, which further limits my free time.

If our story was featured on a reality show, I can only imagine the varied reactions from the audience. Viewers might be split, with some empathizing with our fading friendship due to life’s pressures, while others might criticize me for not putting in enough effort or not prioritizing a significant relationship. It would certainly add an element of public opinion and possibly pressure to resolve things more dramatically.

Am I in the wrong here, or is this a mutual fading of friendship?

Today I had a total meltdown at work and I asked to leave. I went home and now I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to keep living. How do people work normally all the time? I get so stressed and overwhelmed and breakdown. I have bad anxiety and depression so I don’t think that helps me at all. I just can’t do this anymore

Sorry wrong categorized, couldnt find one best fitting for, im stuck in life and shits getting worse

So im 18 and no work experience, just some grades, not muscle mass or anything same as other kids, im behind in life, i wont say so much about my circumstances not being best cuz life doesnt give a fuck about circumstances, i want to leave my country but still i not calculated where and how, its getting more opressive too and im not sure how late is too late to success, despite being well behind im tired with life already, not sure what to do with myself next at all, villan arc, suicide, continue and be sold false hope and take all these hits for nothing, idk, the world is just getting worse for normal people with no hope of changing to be better, rather not waste my time with continue against all odds

I am an Indian. I know to keep it anonymous but revealing my nationality brings me no harm.

A day ago, I was writing my in-progress novel. It was nearing 11 PM. I went to get my night dress from the room in which I sleep (it's not mine, I don't exactly have my own room in this house, but that's no worry), and went to the washroom to change. My brother was watching TV. I told him to turn it off by the time I return. He always dismisses everything I say, because I'm the useless sort in the house. So of course he dismissed this.

I returned from the bathroom and pushed against the door to the room in which my brother was, and it didn't open. I went to the balcony to try the other spare entrance, but that door was locked too. My uncle and grandmother were asleep. They heard me bang the door, and my uncle appeared out of his room. I told him what was wrong and he tried several bizarre methods of unlocking a door, calling out my brother's name, turning the door handle over and over.

Truth was that my brother had fallen asleep while watching TV. It was late night, wasn't it? The fucker locked the door from the inside for a reason even I don't know. He was in a deep slumber, that my uncle's or my voice didn't reach him loudly enough to wake him.

My grandmother can't walk without her cane. She has fat legs, and lung problems, so she kept saying how him (brother) locking the door rattled her and how her body was shaking. I tried to calm her down.

Mother and father had gone to dinner, so grandmother phoned them to return home ASAP, because father keeps a bunch of keys with him, one of which would fit the door's lock and unlock it. We just had to wait. I waited patiently and calmly through the tension, because panic would have been fuel to the fire.

Even amidst all this, grandmother and uncle kept saying how I was the one who went to the washroom, I was the one who left him alone, and henceforth I'm the irresponsible one. I tried to tell them I am no prophet, I wouldn't have in any case known that the idiot would lock the door while I'm away, much less fall asleep. It wasn't my fault, no matter how one saw it.

Father returned with mother in a few more moments, grabbed the keys and unlocked the room's door. Brother lay sleeping. I slapped him awake (literally) and then uncle and mother entered the room. Uncle didn't say much to him, since he is a little better than controlling his anger than the other two.

Father hit him and slapped him and kept asking him to why he locked the damn door, and mother stopped him by saying that he was still groggy and shit and hugged him. Father kept shouting. All was going well for me until...

Petty grandmother mentioned how I went to the washroom and left the little fucker alone for 15 MINUTES. Hear that? 15 MINUTES. Not even 20. I sometimes sing or think out some plots for my books in the bathroom, so I sometimes lose track of time, but that night I was more than a 100% certain I was gone for only and only 15 minutes.

I had tried all the ways and techniques I could to convince the old woman otherwise but noooo, I'm the one at fault. Always.

I shouted in frustration, that IT WASN'T ME. And guess what? Father got mad. Grabbed me. Slapped me once. Shouted in my ears. Gripped me by the arm and told me not to "look that way at him" because I wasn't meeting his eyes. My mother just stood there. My uncle told him to not hurt me. So he just yelled. Grandmother said nothing.

And then the next day my mother, the woman I despise for so many reasons, comes to "talk" with me (translation: scold and control me). I have not spoken to father since that night, it's been only one day. I wanted him to apologize. He had no reason to hit me. Why can't adults just hit their heads somewhere and understand that they are NOT the wise owls they think they are, that they glorify themselves as?

The woman told me that it was wrong of me to treat father that way, and because the two humans gave birth to me, they "have every right to hit me". NO YOU FUCKING DON'T. I AM NOT YOUR PROPERTY. Child or not, I am my own person who believes that hitting does nothing but give a child trauma for life, make them fear adults, FEAR THE MERE SENSE OF TOUCH, feel like they are at the adult's mercy, or worse, teach them hitting = making the child realize what's right.

That's where the title comes in. Ego and self-respect. Often....Most of the time,... okay nevermind, always, these two words are confused and used synonymously in this blasted Indian parenting universe. ..Fuck I hate this country (ps: I am not patriotic at all).

Mother told me to "lower my ego", as she put it. What I have isn't ego. I simply respect myself enough to know that I don't stand with the wrong. I don't care who does it. Wrong stays wrong. And I feel sorry for those who have no idea of self-respect. I feel sorry for their self-esteem.

Mother told me that children must apologize, that adults never do so because.... they're adults. Okay. I get that they are older than me. They have been on this planet longer than I have. They have seen things I haven't. BUT SIMILARLY, I have seen things they haven't. We're equal. We're also equal on the fact that at the end, we're all humans with a load of emotions.

Mother justified father hitting me because he was terrified for my brother and did it in a fit of rage. So if I yell in a fit of rage, that is not justified? Then you will hit me for raising my voice? He's lucky I'm not 18 yet, and that I don't have any malicious intent. Hitting a woman is assault, ain't it?

Mother told me that father works and wonders day and night for me and my education... But have they ever thought for my inner well-being? NO. BECAUSE THAT IS JUST A HALLUCINATION. IT'S NOT EVEN THERE. I get to hear that money buys no happiness, and no they contradict their own statement, implying that technically, money DOES buy happiness.

I'm not happy. I'm depressed, angry, broken, neglected, sad, hurt and hopeless. And if I tell them this, I'll get hit by the "you're only 17" reply. Because apparently they are stuck in their own angsty life to help me with mine.

They tell me I'm rude. Well, sent me to a fucking therapist then! I want help but can't they get the hint that I'm not able to express it to them because they are all daft shitheads? Why can't I express? They've given me no reason to bestow them with my trust. I trust my friends more. For me, water is thicker than blood. I don't even know who wrote the stupid saying anyways.

Mother told me to make him a sorry card and buy him a chocolate. Okay, I'll do it. Not because I want to, but because I'm genuinely tired of this woman's idiocy. First she neglects me and constantly fawns over brother ("he's younger than you) and now she tries to give me lessons in lowering my "ego"? I have ego, I won't deny. But this, this isn't ego. It's a strong sense of respect for my own being. Every time I try to cultivate it, they kill it in one way or another.

Please treat your children better. They don't deserve this. They are not your puppets. Not your property. They are yours to take care of, so stop doing things that make them grow distant.

It's amazing to know that a 17-yo has a better sense of parenting than two parents combined.

I’ve been working at this company for only a few weeks now, and honestly, I’m already exhausted by how much self-control it takes to be kind all the time. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not rude, and I don’t snap at anyone, but internally? I’m fighting a war every day just to keep my mouth shut. Some of these coworkers act like they’ve never heard of basic courtesy or professional boundaries. They overshare, they interrupt, they make assumptions, and it’s like I’m expected to keep smiling through all of it. Clients aren’t much better. You can be polite, patient, even go out of your way to help—and still, they’ll throw some passive-aggressive comment your way or complain that you didn’t “sound friendly enough.” I get it; everyone has their own crap to deal with, and maybe I’m being too sensitive. But seriously, how are you supposed to be kind when people keep pushing your buttons?!! I try to breathe through it, tell myself it’s just a job, it’s just people being people, but it’s tough. And the worst part is—I want to be kind. I want to be seen as someone who’s approachable, easy to work with, someone who makes things better, not worse. But when you’re constantly dealing with entitled attitudes and phony small talk, it becomes less about kindness and more about performance. And that performance wears you out.

The thing is, I don’t think I’m mean. I just think I’m running out of energy to fake warmth all the time. Is kindness supposed to feel this forced? I watch some of my coworkers smile so easily, laugh with clients, crack jokes in meetings—and I wonder, how do they do it?? Are they not tired? Are they not annoyed? Or am I just wired differently? There’s this pressure to keep up the vibe, be the guy who’s always positive, who never rolls his eyes, never says the thing everyone’s thinking but knows they shouldn’t. But suppressing those reactions—it’s messing with my head. It feels dishonest. And yet, saying what you really feel? That gets you labeled difficult or unprofessional. So I sit there, nodding, agreeing, thanking people who make my job harder, pretending not to care when someone takes credit for something I did. I replay conversations in my head on the way home, wondering if I sounded cold, if I should’ve smiled more, if I was too blunt. And it’s not just about how others see me; I don’t want to turn bitter. I’ve seen what that looks like, and it’s ugly. So I try, every day, to show kindness even when it doesn’t feel earned—especially then, actually; because I guess that’s the whole point of kindness, right? But it’s not easy. And some days, I wonder if anyone notices. Or cares. Maybe I’m just overthinking the whole thing. But you ever feel like being kind is more about survival than sincerity? Like, if you stop being kind, everything around you would collapse? What’s the line between being a decent person and being a doormat? 🧠