Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

so this morning in the hall on my way to Band class, a friend of mine passed, one of the Special Ed kids. Usually he just waves at me, and I smile and wave back, but today he said, "Can I have a hug?" And I said, "Sure!" and that was hours ago and I'm still smiling. That little interaction made my day a little better :D

here's your reminder that even the smallest of things, a little smile, a hug, even a compliment can brighten someone's day just a little!

I once shared my life with a man, Martin, who suffered greatly from alcohol addiction. Unfortunately, this battle with substance abuse overshadowed our relationship, leading to a breakdown, and ultimately, our divorce. Tragically, Martin passed away from complications related to his alcoholism. Time moved on, and I found love again, remarrying a kind man named James, though my daughter Sarah, from my previous marriage, has struggled to accept him, fueling a bit of tension at home.

Sarah is soon to be wed, and while the occasion should be joyful, the preparations have surfaced some challenges concerning honoring family. Sarah expressed a desire to display a photograph of Martin at her wedding ceremony, a gesture I find touching as it acknowledges her father. However, her plans extended to having me sit next to this photo during the event, isolating my current husband, James, from sitting by my side. Even at the family table, she wished to seat me alongside the photograph with no place for James.

I voiced my objections, stating such arrangements made me uncomfortable. This response provoked a rather heated reaction from Sarah, who accused me of being selfish and dishonoring her father's memory. I had to stand firm; I suggested that should these plans go ahead, I would feel compelled to miss her wedding altogether.

Such a confrontation didn't sit well with Sarah, who branded me as uncaring, and now, other relatives have begun weighing in on the issue. The situation is becoming distressingly divisive.

If my family dilemma were part of a reality show, it might draw quite a mixed reaction from the audience. Viewers might split, with some empathizing with my position on maintaining respect and unity in my current marriage, while others might side with Sarah, seeing her actions as a tribute to her late father. Reality TV thrives on emotional conflict and difficult family dynamics, so this scenario would fit right in, perhaps stirring up discussions about family loyalty, grief, and new beginnings.

The complexities of blended family relationships and honoring past connections would likely resonate with many, sparking widespread viewer engagement and perhaps even debate over the best way to handle such sensitive family matters.

So... help me... Am I the one being unreasonable here? 😅

Hello. I lost my pet pig almost a year ago and am still dealing with feelings of regret and guilt, as well as loss. He was the closest thing I could call a child and a big part of my life for three years.

He was sickly a few times before he died, with loss of appetite and energy. I took him to both a clinic and got a vet to look at him, but didn’t get a lot of answers and was just told to try to feed him. So I did, and most of the times he got better, but then got sick again.

Then he one day after getting a lot better (I thought) got REALLY sick and I panicked since I was sure he was dying. I still lived with my parents then, but they weren’t as panicked as me and said they would help me take him to a clinic in the morning. The vet on call (night shift) also said we probably could wait till the morning. It was Sunday night and I was thinking more about the money than I now wish I did. He died after a few hours of me trying to keep him warm.

I am now learning after researching what I think was his cause of death, that I could have saved him if I gave him early treatment. And pretty easily at that. That has been haunting me since he died, and I can not stop feeling like a horrible human being, and selfish person that cared more about the money than take him to a clinic again after a unhelpful experience.

I felt like I was dying the first week and literally could not sleep because I was crying so much and saw him every time I closed my eyes. I still cry when I see his photos, and more than anything feel like it’s my fault that he died, and that he would have had it better if someone else was his owner.

I’m mostly here to vent, since I don’t really feel like I have anyone to talk about this with. It’s my first time using this site, so I don’t know if this is the correct way to post. If anyone has some tips for getting over mostly the guilt, I would appreciate it. Thank you for reading.

It’s hard to explain to people without sounding dramatic. From the outside, everything probably looks fine. We’ve been married for eight years, we don’t fight often, we keep the house clean, pay our bills on time, and take care of the kids. But behind all that routine is this empty space between us that keeps getting wider. He’s here, but he’s not really here. My husband is emotionally unavailable, and it feels like I’m married to a shadow. When something upsets me, he doesn’t ask questions. He doesn’t comfort. He just nods or says “Sorry you feel that way,” and moves on like I didn’t just open uup my chest and hand him my heart. I’ve learned to stop expecting warmth. I’ve learned to cry quietly in the bathroom so I don’t make him uncomfortable. And that’s the part that breaks me—how me feeling something seems to bother him more than it bothers me.

I didn’t always notice it this deeply. In the beginning, it was just little things—him brushing off serious conversations, or giving one-word answers when I tried to connect. But back then, I thought maybe he just needed time, that maybe it was hard for him to express himself. He had a rough childhood, he never really saw healthy communication growing up, and I gave him grace for that. Maybe too much grace. I thought love would soften him. I thought my patience would eventually make him feel safe enough to open up. But years passed, and I realized I was building a bridge alone, with no one walking toward me on the other side. Every time I tried to talk about our lack of emotional closeness, he’d say, “I don’t know what you want me to do.” As if connection was a task, and not a part of being in love. I’ve begged for something deeper, and all I get is distance in return.

Now I just feel tired. I feel lonely in a house with someone who promised to be my partner. I scroll through my phone, seeing couples who laugh together, cry together, talk—and I feel like I’m watching life happen from a glass window. I envy people who feel seen. I try to bring it up sometimes, gently, hoping something clicks, but it never does. He shuts down, gets quiet, or changes the subject. I’m not asking for grand romantic speeches or poetry—I just want him to notice me. To feel with me. But it’s like there’s a wall I can’t break, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep knocking. I still love him, but I don’t feel loved in return. And I wonder, often, if this is all marriage will ever be—doing life together, but never really together.

its been a long time since i've realizd but i think i am fully admitting to my myself this just now that i've certainly become a failure. last time i was preparing for my exams with full enthusiasm and now that i am a 11th grader my whole life is fucking turned upside down. i ha dstarted on this ourney of preparing for an entrance exam for engineeering colleges but took the option of staying at my school which usualy doing the same thing as me (preparing for the same exam) dont do. i was confident in proving the people who toold me that staying in school won't get you your college. i was confident. because i had no one to tell me the right thing. no one to explain to me what i was setting myself up for. i was just a person with dreams who'd not thoroughly thought of the path that they'd be taking neither had they researched about this. they just took this path because it seemed cool and many people were doing it and also heard that there father's dream was to get the top college that you could get through this exam. i didnt know anything about it and just followed whatever others around me were doing. i didnt realize the seriousness of this thing. and dint give me best which i am still far from giving. i scores very well in ast year's exam that i told you about however i could do more on that too if i were just a little more serious. os now i have wasted my 2024 not studying in my school. when i look at the more serious kids around me theyre so fucking ahead of me i cant even imagine that id ever be at their level i just think i am done for and now i dont have the fucking motivation to do anything. i cant study. i just cant bring myself to do it i dont know why i just have gotten so good at procastinating and so good at just regretting things after i did the wronng stuff that i seem to not even care right now. i dont fucking know what to do and i just wanna die right now. also i couldnt bring myself to tell this to anyone despite having so many friends and pretty undertsanding parents but i just cant. and i dont know how this websiete works. i just wanna

I'm scheduled to attend a wedding this autumn, and I sent a message to the bride, Elaine, informing her that I would already have my boho braids styled for the occasion and wouldn't require the professional hairstyling being arranged. I also offered to adjust the style of my braids to whatever she preferred, acknowledging that she might want a uniform look for all the bridesmaids.

Elaine replied, suggesting I wear my natural hair instead to maintain a consistent appearance among the bridal party. I am the only African American bridesmaid, and I pointed out that natural styles might inherently stand out. Besides, my natural hair can be quite unmanageable during day-long events, which is why I preferred my braids. Despite this, I openly communicated that I'd be more comfortable with the braids, hoping for her understanding.

However, Elaine hasn't responded to my last message but has voiced to others that she feels I'm being overly self-centered. I've been actively involved in the wedding preparations, from organizing her bachelorette party to assisting with her bridal shower and tackling various other wedding-related tasks along the way.

Now, I'm torn. Should I cancel my braid appointment to align with her wishes for the wedding day? Or should I go ahead with the hairstyle that makes me feel confident and at ease, while still being willing to style it as she wants?

Adding to this, imagine if this situation unfolded on a reality TV show. Likely, it would draw significant viewer attention, becoming a focal point for discussions about cultural sensitivity and personal preferences within wedding traditions. Cameras capturing live reactions could escalate tensions or perhaps lead to a touching resolution where diversity is embraced and celebrated. This televised angle could drastically shape public perception of both myself and Elaine.

Imagine if I was seen as trying to assert my identity, or if Elaine was perceived as inflexible? The dynamics could tilt audience sympathy one way or another based on how sensitively the issue is handled on-screen.

Should I keep the braids or go natural for a friend’s wedding?

I chose the "friendship" category, I was tempted by the category "Bridezilla".. 🤫

So, here's a thing I've been trying to wrap my head around recently—I like men. 😅 I'm 23, chill guy, and for the longest time, I thought I was supposed to be interested in women. You know, the usual societal expectations and all. I've had girlfriends before, crushes I thought were intense, and those typical high school flings. Still, over the past few months, something shifted within me. It's like unveiling a new layer of my identity; something that's been shadowed for a while. I guess I've been living under a heteronormative assumption all these years, thinking that's where my affinities lied. But, now... it's like, WOW!

The revelation came rather subtly, through a series of enlightening experiences that could rival a coming-of-age movie. Like, who would have thought that a simple conversation with this guy I met at a coffee shop could spark such introspection? We clicked instantly, sharing thoughts on everything from existentialism to astrophysics. Once, he quoted Oscar Wilde, saying, "To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance," and it hit me hard! 🧐 It wasn't just admiration for his intellect, but there was something more profound, an attraction that felt... right? I started recognizing these feelings weren't anomalous but rather indicative of a broader truth;

Anyway, I've been exploring LGBTQ+ resources and forums to understand this better. You know how it is... investigation mode activated! I've learned about Kinsey's scale of sexual orientation and how sexuality is fluid, not fixed—fascinating stuff, really! It's like reading through 'The Hidden History of Homosexuality' and realizing that this isn't new or weird but part of a continuum of human experience. 🤔 That was quite comforting to discover, knowing that others have traversed this path before me and come out (pardon the pun) just fine. Yet, it’s foreign ground for me and kind of daunting. Do I need to label myself now, or can I just, I don't know, be??? Love is a spectrum, right???

For years, Melanie and I had been inseparable since our days back in high school. So, when she asked me to be her Maid of Honor, my excitement was through the roof. Motivated by a desire to see her wedding day become as magical as possible, I didn't hesitate in spending generously on the bridal shower, a lavish bachelorette weekend getaway, décor, and various other wedding-related expenses. The total cost ran into thousands of dollars—a significant sum for my husband and me—but Melanie was like a sister to me, and I wanted nothing but the best for her special day.

However, things took an unexpected turn two months ago when I announced my pregnancy. Initially, Melanie appeared happy for me but soon started to distance herself. She began to exclude me from wedding-related discussions and frequently hinted at how challenging it was to manage a wedding when people were not fully focused. At first, I attributed this change to pre-wedding stress.

But just a few days back, Melanie sat me down for a talk and bluntly stated she no longer wanted me in her wedding. Shockingly, she complained that I was “getting too fat” and that my presence would not complement her "wedding vision" in the photographs. Shocked and hurt, I questioned if this was due to my pregnancy, but she denied it, claiming her decisions were impersonal. Additionally, she declared she was replacing me with another friend who seamlessly matched her “aesthetic.”

Reacting to this news, I told her that since I am not to be a part of her wedding, I wouldn’t attend it either. I presented her with all the receipts of my expenses and insisted that either she or her fiancé compensate me, given that these were costs I incurred as her Maid of Honor. This demand infuriated Melanie, who called me selfish and accused me of trying to sabotage her wedding. She labeled my request for reimbursement as “tacky,” claiming that such expenses were “my responsibility as MOH.” I countered that since she removed me from the role, these were no longer my expenses.

Since that confrontation, I’ve been bombarded with calls and messages from Melanie, her fiancé, and even their families. They've branded me as petty and overly sensitive, blaming my "pregnancy hormones" while telling me I should have just let the matter slide and considered the money a loss due to wedding stresses.

My husband, however, has stood firmly by my side, insisting that I was right to stand up for myself. He also shares a sense of outrage over Melanie's demeaning behavior and supports my decision not to absorb these costs for a wedding we are no longer welcome to.

Feeling both betrayed and humiliated by someone I regarded as a close friend has been incredibly painful. Even so, the relentless criticism makes me wonder if I perhaps reacted too severely.

Had this been captured on a reality show, viewers would likely be split. Some might view my strong stance sympathetically, as standing up for dignity against a friend's unreasonable demands. Others might see it as creating drama or lacking understanding toward the unique pressures a bride faces.

What’s your take: Should I have fought for reimbursement or let it go? For me, my friend turned into a real Bridezilla...

Think about it, there's more benefits to it. You're less surprised by tragedy, you are alive because everyone are liars in your eyes, and when you get hurt, you already knew this was gonna happen.

Really? So far I've had no friends and my family hates that I'm negative. I'm not negative, I'm honest. They hate the fact when I tell them there's no hope in this planet, and that everything is pathetic, and how I won't even be rich and alive to see 20.

People already struggle in this era, so what else is next than to give up and be on the unemployment train? Or vouch for communism over capitalism? I even became negative and I'm happier that zone. It's my comfort zone.

The moment my friends moved on and had their own groups without me, I became the cynic, the dark, the grim. I soon realized at 13 to live in the world, you have to trust no one, not even your family or your home country.

You must hate everyone, and distrust everyone. You must live in fear and disgust of humans, because they try to force-swallow their nasty happy pills down my throat and "be positive".

My family doesn't love me, I'm just a resource, a toy given to them because they wanted to fill out a norm. Have a tall husband, short wife, and 2 kids, one girl and boy.

Benefits of being pessimistic (which even the adults on the room can’t see for some reason):

1) Has a lesser painful impact when being betrayed by something or someone because you low-key suspected the thing with you was a fake

2) Are actually more smarter some you are able to see the messy sides without being too surprised

3) Have enough permission to tell someone, “I told you so!”

4) Able to feel smart and actually be confident because you have enough evidence and gut feeling to prove your point that everything is hopeless

5) Able to understand the world is a mess because everything is too expensive, too less, people can be evil or bigoted, able to see and grasp the flaws of populist people (and people in general) more easily

6) Can rot and feel hopeless without feeling drained or physically affected because already predicted the (crappy) future, in fact can actually thrive in such mental states

7) Able to handle bleak honesty better (like being told “I don’t like you” or “You’re worthless and ugly”) because the pessimism tells you it’s true

8) Great personality trait to have because it meetings and in jobs you can be flat you “ruined” (correct word: told the truth) to your dumb, optimistic puppy employees

9) Can handle isolation and loneliness better (I lasted 7 years with no friends or contact to any classmates, and I’m 13!) because you know everyone, even the adults, around you are idiots to never understand

10) Can grasp the fact the adults are stupid and uncultured without crying because it was already predicted

I can do all that without feeling bad! I can fail and berate myself, and I'll be fine because I'm in my comfort zone. Isn't everyone happy in their zone?

I even felt embarrassed after I got excited because we went to a park we never went to and saw hoopoes, ring-neck parrots, mynas and it had some interesting empty restaurants and 2 colleges nearby, and then I petted a cat on a bench, until I started feeling more itchy, my eye swelled up red, and I realized the doctor was right when she said I have an allergy to dust and cat hair.

So see? I should've just sat, even though I liked walking, seeing the birds, the place itself, and having a nice bubble tea with my mom and brother. I should've argued with mom about my ideology that pessimism is the way to go, rather than let her read her book and me walk around.

That would've ended than us being peaceful and mom not yelling. That cat ruined it!

Sure it didn't bite or scratch me (I would've berated myself for rabies risk), it was oddly quiet and it was weirdly so comfortable to the point it sat on my lap and it didn't even try to attack me when I picked it and lightly threw it on the ground (it's a cat so it can land on its feet, and cat didn't even meow), and when I scratch and petted it, it seemed fine, it sat another time before I picked its belly and put it on the bench, and his eye also looked kinda swollen, until I started itching and my eye also got swollen, and mom in a kinda disappointed tone said, "Oh, why did you do that?"

Before we got bubble tea and I put the drink on my eye to cool it, then at home (after we picked my brother in the same park from his piano exam. You see, in one area there was an auditorium hub, and he did it there, we were just nearby) I put the ice pack on my rash, eye and mom put eye drops.

It's better now, but I shouldn't have done it! Still, I shouldn't have trusted my gut, and I should've never sat near that thing.

Hell, I should've argued with mom about my philosophy, instead of excitedly telling her about the hoopoes and ring-necks like an 8 y/o! I'm 13!

Isn't it just stupid I got excited over a dumb bird, and a bit confused why an Indian parrot was in UAE, and there was 6 of them near the college (it was Middlesex University in Dubai)?

I should've argued and be cynical, that's more grown up! I may have been happy while roaming around, but not everything happy is good!

And why was I even looking around the place and drinking that with my family? I should've asked for a coffee, like adults!

I'm not pretending it never happened, I'm admitting it did, and admitting how much of an avoidable situation it was!

It's a stupid stray cat, it's not like it's gonna cry if you leave it!

And I was even dumber for thinking it was a calm cat, it was, it didn't react much at all (I know it's not dead, his eye just looked weird, and I hope he was alright, showed no signs of sneezing, coughing or snot, his left eye was just swollen), even when I picked it up and put on the ground first, and then the chair, I shouldn't have trusted that fiend!

And why did my left eye also get swollen? Again, I was being stupid! People with allergies don't go anywhere near things they have reactions to, even if it's not anaphylactic!

Again, what allergic person goes near their allergies? Lord knows I was being stupid. I shouldn't have trusted it. It may have been gentle, maybe kinda old, but I shouldn't have even thought about going there.

This is one of the memories where being calmer and hopeful hurts you. This is the other chapter in my book of that.

Stupid cat fur. Can't even be a normal person.

But my benefits! Oh, don't tell me, "Be positive!" Again, it's happy pills institutions feed us to keep us controlled. That's like saying surgery is bad because people die from it. More people have lived!

If I apply the same with everyone, family, friends, teachers, strangers, I'll be alive. I won't be on the ground betrayed by a fraud.

More people have been hurt by surprises. So, the more I expect down, I can never be hurt. Better to never be hurt ever than get hurt once, right?

Come on, if I don't trust anyone, I'll be fine! It's how we work, right? People wall up all the time. Don't they?

I mean, army men don't trust EACH OTHER, so? I can wall up forever, or at least decades and be okay! It's how I managed without friends! Hermits did it! I can have that life!

Another thing, how does looking or doing things you like supposed to make you feel better when you failed at something?

Again, I didn't draw for months, and then during that time, I made mood boards and just sat at home doing nothing. Then, when I failed 2 of my exams, I turned to watch what I liked, created more boards, got back to making my doll, and eating, and wanting to go out to malls to cure my misery.

Yeah, useless. This is fleeting joy. This isn't the joy where you are happy for life. It still means I'm a failure to my family, even if my mom says I'm not a failure.

Exams will define my college selection, my grade promotion, and life! Says the woman who got 70/100, thinking she failed when she's top 5 scorers in school for getting 85-95!

Again, I always think she's lying. What's the catch? What's the hidden meaning behind, "We may argue but I won't leave you and stop loving you."

People leave when they have a big argument after many microaggressions, or maybe one big thing happened and they all hate each other! They fight and leave, it's the big thing that holed their relationship!

Movies show it, and they're praised as realistic, so explain this. My brain's a soldier in armor for knowing this and suspecting this.

Guess what? Okay, maybe my arguments are the micro-aggressions, until we have that BIG FIGHT, and she sends me elsewhere!

Don't tell me, mom, that you won't send me anywhere or deport me back no matter how angry you are, you will soon.

I have maturity in pessimism than my family, so at least I'm good at that and nothing else.

I'm smart. I'm confident because of it.

My mom spews trash when she says, "Don't talk about your miseries all the time or any bad thing all the time, we just did something good yesterday."

We may have binged a show we liked, had good food, went out to a new park we've never been to, and had bubble tea, but to keep myself not too happy, I have to remember the bad things.

Isn't it how we keep ourselves in check and not too...joyful?

Joy can make people do stupid things, and when you distrustful of everything, you'll have all the things trying to hurt you not hurt you.

Isn't numbness good?

And so what if it's a cage? Better than to fly in a forest where you could get eaten by an animal.

Flying's bad in that case. It's a cage that keeps me safe, with food, shelter, confidence, security, and my thoughts.

I'm fine here! In fact, I'm happier here than being positive. I'm happier here, it's how I've managed for years, I only got more emotional when I started listening to my heart.

It shouldn't be there! I should grow out of it. It may be screaming me to not be this "hard", but it's being stupid.

It's like a kid telling me not to watch TV today or I'll go blind today and need a walking stick.

See? I can be happy being alone when thinking negative, because how can anyone hurt me or leave me?

Bad things only teach you they're bad.

You break up with someone when you both couldn't control it, it was worthless.

If you studied and still failed an exam, it was worthless.

You had a friend who moved from you, that friend was worthless.

If this is "living", I reject living. I accept survival.

Seeing pain as bad, and emotions as bad, it's how I've coped for years now. I managed since I was 12, for some stuff, but it's increased now at 13.

I was okay until I listened once to my heart. That made me feel bad, and it made my mom be a "friend".

Who has their mom as a friend?!

I've been vulnerable to a teacher, and she took me too literally! She got me out of school for 3 days, when I felt perfectly fine to go!

And even I feel guilty, and now mom's all like, "You should now speak to me, because only I know you better than them."

Hag, you're my mom. Who has their moms as confidants!?

I'm supposed to have many friends at this age, not be alone with mom.

I can even fake with a few people to look cool! I'll figure it out!

Everybody else has friends. I don't. I'm 1 of the 2 kids in the class with no friend. There's only one girl, but if I spoke to her, it'll be awkward. She's very quiet, very soft-spoken.

If girls can fake boyfriends and then fall in love like in movies, I can do it with friends!

If I DARE get awkward, it's bad. Means I'm weak, shameful even.

I must fake it. I can forget it exists if the sky has smog in it. I'd rather breathe in my own breath than that in my cage.

Everything uncontrolled is bad! I'm allowed to be a hermit!

You may say hermits were missing human connection but they convinced themselves it was fine. Why can't I do that?

I'm a martyr for that. I'm a martyr for isolation.

So please, people here, what happened when you were pessimistic for a long while? I bet it benefited you more than gave you issues.

But be honest, tell everything...

Ive thought about her a lot lately. I wonder where she is and I hope she’s happier now. But I just have so many regrets, why didn’t I try to contact her the year after she moved? We were so close, I had known her since kindergarten but I just wanted to act like I didn’t care. And maybe thats the problem, we’re all trying to act like we dont care and that nothing bothers us. Maybe thats why she did what she did, and maybe if someone showed her they cared she could be enjoying the life she deserved. Why can’t we just show the people around us we care. I miss you I really do. How can I ever really live happily when I know I didn't help her at all and now she's gone?

Hey, so I just wanted to share some bad experiences with stress with school and relationships, so I have trust issues but I feel like no body know that because they always tell me to trust them, then also school full on stresses me out because we get a bunch of work piled on to everything we have to do and then by the end of the day I just feel very drained and feel like I can't do anything but then my parents get upset at me for having a messy room, but I don't have any motivation to do anything at the moment because I'm constantly being told to be 100% honest with everyone but I can't do that because they'll just tell everything to someone else and I just don't know what to do now.

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

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

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

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

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

Then that day came.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I ain't one to air my laundry, but sometimes it's freeing to just lay it all out there. life throws curveballs, and boy, did i get hit by one. my husband, bless his heart, decided to test our vows a couple years ago. cheated on me, he did. now, i ain't saying i'm perfect, but that knock knocked the wind out of me. i'm 47, been around the block, and you'd think i'd seen it all, but nothing prepares you for your partner's betrayal. it ain't easy, letting go of that kind of hurt. easy living is what i wanted, but life had other plans. by the way, how long does it really take to forgive? learned from a wise soul that, "forgiveness ain't about forgetting, but about letting go of the hold that pain has over you." and ain't that the truth? let me tell you, releasing that grip ain't a one-and-done deal.

from that day, things changed. our house felt different, like the walls knew secrets they shouldn't. "once trust is gone, it's hard to earn it back." a cliché, sure, but reality is cliches exist for a reason. tried therapy, tried talking, tried understanding the why's and how's. maybe i could've seen it coming, maybe not. questions like a spinning wheel in my head, asking, did i do enough? was i overlooking the signs? but hey, blaming myself ain't gonna fix a thing. i've learned not to carry that burden. laid it on him, rightly so. he messed up, not me. relationships are tricky business, and cautionary tales abound. but man, it hurts to be the one people wag their tongues about, even if no names are named. staying put, that's my choice, 'cause the heart and mind have minds of their own. ever been in such a dilemma yourself? if so, you'll know it's a matter of picking the pieces, even when some might be missing.

'm figuring out the whole forgive but never forget thing. my puzzle's still got gaps, and that's okay. life's not about having it all figured out, is it? daily, i remind myself of the good times, but the shadows linger. ain't saying i'm a saint, but i'm being kind to myself. "to err is human; to forgive is divine," or so they say. not divine, just human, with all the flaws and sorrows that come with it. hesitations and doubts live rent-free in my head, but that's part of the package deal called moving on. we ain't perfect, not you, not me, not my husband. but i feel you gotta let people learn from mistakes, right? and if second chances are a deal-breaker for some, who am i to judge? life's too short to hold grudges, but it sure as hell ain't too short to forget. what about you? where do you draw the line between forgiving and forgetting?

My sister and her friends often talk about their serious problems with each other through text. My sister sometimes allows me to read what they say, but whenever I see her talking bad about me I feel hurt even though I'm the problem. She wouldn't be complaining to her friends if I didn't offend her but she never tells me how she feels so I don't know when my actions genuinely hurt her. I'm a little upset she allows them to talk bad about me and say my dreams are worthless and never going to happen, but do I have the right to feel offended when I caused this? I'm worried to talk to her because I'm afraid she'll tell her friends or not take me seriously.

The whole situation feels overwhelming right now, and honestly, the feedback would be much appreciated – I’m in a bit of a rough spot, so thanks for being understanding.

Joining a new school halfway through the year, back in April, didn't give me much time to socialize and make friends before the summer break started. During one of my solo lunch breaks, I sat next to a quiet boy named Alex, who was also sitting by himself. As it turned out, Alex wasn’t just shy; he was autistic. Noticing he had on a space camp t-shirt, I struck up a conversation about it since astronomy seemed to be his passion. He eagerly shared his space camp experiences, spiraling into other astronomical topics. It was enjoyable – his enthusiasm was infectious, and I barely needed to talk, just listen, which was pretty cool. We began sitting together frequently, and over time, we communicated a little over the summer too. Now, I'd consider Alex my friend.

This school year, we share a few classes, and even though I've made other friends, Alex and I still spend time together. He invited me over this past weekend to check out his new telescope, a birthday gift. It was exciting to see it, and his parents were genuinely welcoming, expressing that I was always welcome to visit. We managed to explore nebulas and various astronomical phenomena using his telescope linked to a laptop. It got late, and his dad offered to drive me home, since he needed to stop by the store anyway. During the ride, he started a typical dad conversation but suddenly asked if Alex and I were dating. I chuckled, dismissing it, but then he oddly suggested that if I took Alex to the homecoming dance, he'd cover all expenses and even offer extra. The suggestion startled me, and I escaped the situation as quickly as I could once we reached my house.

At home, I tried to shrug it off, but my dad noticed something was off. After some coaxing, I explained what happened. He reassured me, emphasizing that I shouldn’t feel pressured into dating or attending dances with anyone.

Since then, things got a bit strained. Alex missed a couple of days at school, and when he returned, he seemed downtroverted and anxious. He eventually revealed that his parents had argued a great deal following the incident. Knowing the tension at home was partly because of me made me uneasy; especially since I recognized how significant it was for Alex to have friends over.

Movng on from this incident, Alex and I would probably face challenges in our friendship. Hypothetically speaking, if this story unfolded on a reality show, the magnitude of the reaction would be immense. Viewers might see this as a dramatic turn of events, inciting tons of viewer speculation and discussion on social pressures and parental involvement in friendships and social outings among teens. It would stoke widespread talk about boundaries and advocacy, where I'd likely be in the hot seat navigating this delicate friendship dynamic in front of an audience.

Should parents intervene in teen friendships? For me no, at least not like that...