Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I never imagined I’d be the kind of woman who would ask that question. How to forgive my husband, this f***** cheater? Let alone a man who cheated twice. When I got married at 25, I thought I was building something solid, something lasting. My husband was my best friend, my partner, the father of my children. We shared dreams, built a home, raised two beautiful kids. And now, at 39, I feel like I’m standing in the ruins of what we built—still trying to convince myself it’s worth saving, even though every part of me feels tired, confused, and honestly… heartbroken.

The first time he cheated, it felt like the ground disappeared beneath me. I was blindsided. He said it was a mistake, that it didn’t mean anything. We went to therapy. He cried. I cried more. And I made the choice to stay—for our children, for our history, for the hope that maybe it really was just a mistake. I wanted to believe in redemption. I needed to. And for a while, things did get better. He seemed present again. Kinder. More involved with the kids, more engaged in our marriage. I let my guard down, started to trust again… and then he did it again. Different woman. Different time. Same betrayal.

That second time broke something in me. Not just trust, but a piece of my identity as a wife, a partner. I ask myself every day, am I weak for staying? Or strong for trying again? There’s no easy answer. Some mornings I wake up and feel like I should pack a bag and go. Other mornings, I look at our kids and think, how can I blow up their world just because I’m hurting? They love him. They need him. And he’s not a bad father—he’s just… a man who made selfish, hurtful decisions. But how do I reconcile that with the love I used to feel? With the way I used to look at him and see my future? Now I look at him and see a stranger I still share a bed with.

I’ve googled the question so many times—how to forgive a cheater, can a marriage survive infidelity, should I stay or leave. The advice always sounds so clean, so clear-cut. “Rebuild trust.” “Open communication.” “Set boundaries.” But in real life, it’s not that simple. It’s waking up next to someone whose phone buzzes and your stomach drops. It’s hearing “I love you” and wondering if he said that to her too. It’s putting on a smile for your children when all you want to do is scream. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him again and not remember. And yet, I also don’t know how to fully walk away. I’m caught in between two impossible choices: stay and swallow the pain, or leave and shatter the only life I’ve known for nearly two decades.

I don’t have the answer yet. Maybe forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. Maybe it’s something I’ll have to choose every day, even on the days when I hate him a little. Or maybe I’ll wake up one day and realize I’ve stayed too long. All I know is, I’m trying. Trying to be a good mom. Trying to make sense of a heart that still feels shattered. Trying to find myself again in the middle of all this. People talk about forgiveness like it’s a gift you give someone else, but I think, right now, it’s something I’m trying to give to myself—permission to hurt, to feel lost, to not have it all figured out. And maybe, eventually, to let go. Whether that means letting go of the anger, or of him entirely… I’m still not sure.

I wanna try embroidery🧵🪡. It looks like a very beautiful and delicate art form🤩!! But... I work better via in-person lessons. And Las Vegas doesn't seem to have any classes😭!! I've looked through Michaels... Local websites... And even asked my cousin, "The Hobbies Queen" for help. No luck🥲! I'm not giving up... But with the way things are going... I might just have to rely on buying the materials and watching a You Tube video about it😮‍💨. Nothing wrong with that in general. It's just easier for me to learn in-person. Wish me luck trying to find an embroidery class in Las Vegas☺️🙏🏻✨🍀!

Last week, I encountered an exceptionally rude sales assistant while hunting for a birthday present, and I wonder if I may have overreacted because of it. There was only one attendant free at the shop, and it was apparent she preferred not to be disturbed. She avoided making eye contact and would walk in the opposite direction whenever I neared. After waiting around for another assistant to become available and realizing none would, it was getting late, so I reluctantly decided to approach her. Regrettably, her response was dismissive and unhelpful, leading me to resume my browsing alone as I awaited my husband's arrival.

Upon his arrival, it was as if a switch had flipped with the saleswoman. She became eager and attentive, quite the opposite of how she had treated me initially. My attention had been caught by a stylish bag earlier, which I might have even bought for myself had it not been for her earlier behavior. My husband noticed and asked if I was interested in purchasing it, but I refused, particularly because it would mean she’d earn a commission from the sale. Despite my earlier experience, she now seemed more than willing to assist.

A few days later, my husband surprised me with that very same bag as a gift. I inquired if he had returned to the same store and interacted with the same assistant, which he confirmed. Knowing this, I felt compelled to return the bag. I explained to him how her initial rudeness had spoiled my view of the purchase, and that I did not want her benefiting from the commission. While the commission seemed trivial to my husband, the principle mattered to me. He was quite upset when I returned his gift, not understanding why a stranger’s actions should influence our decisions.

Am I being unreasonable?

Navigating this situation on a reality show would undoubtedly amplify the drama. Picture the scenario being replayed to a room full of spectators, each weighing in on the ethical dilemma. Would the public side with my decision to stand against poor customer service, or would they perceive my actions as an overreaction detrimental to what was a heartfelt gift from my husband? Reality TV thrives on such conflicts, often escalating them to entertain the audience.

What the hell is happening in my own house?? I used to think I had it together—career, family, routine. But lately, I wake up already exhausted, and it’s not because of work or age. It’s these damn teenage kids!!! Every day is a damn psychological battle!!! Mood swings, slammed doors, sarcastic answers, zero respect for boundaries!!! And don’t get me started on screen time—why the hell am I always the bad guy for setting limits??? I try to keep calm, but my voice always ends up shaking, like my whole system’s on overload. Hormones?? Sure. But what about mine?? Am I supposed to just keep absorbing the chaos until I crack?? Is that the plan?? Because it sure feels like it.

Even basic things like dinner or chores turn into full-blown negotiations!!! I’m not their damn project manager!!! I ask for plates to be cleared, and somehow I’m triggering a “mental health episode”??? I didn’t sign up for emotional hostage situations every evening!!! And don’t give me that “gentle parenting” crap—I’m not trying to be their friend, I’m trying to keep the household running without going clinically insane!!! Do they see what they’re doing??? Or am I the only one who’s drowning in this mess??? I walk into their rooms and it smells like puberty and rebellion had a baby. I’m not even trying to fix them anymore. I’m just trying not to lose myself in the process.

So yeah, I’m scared. Scared that one day I’ll snap and not come back from it. I have intrusive thoughts I don’t want. I hear my own voice and don’t recognize it. Ever feel that?? Like you’re watching yourself spiral but still expected to drive carpool and make dentist appointments??? I go through the motions like a damn automaton, but inside, I’m questioning my own stability every five minutes!!! Is this what it looks like before you lose your mind??? Or am I already halfway there??!! I don’t need a diagnosis or sympathy. I just needed to write this out before I scream at a wall or throw my phone at something. Maybe someone out there gets it. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter.

I’ve always had a habit of joking about myself, but lately, I’m starting to think it’s getting out of control. Self deprecating humor was kinda my thing—it made people laugh, made me seem approachable, and honestly, it helped me cover up any awkwardness. At work, it felt like the easiest way to fit in. Like, if I made fun of myself first, no one else could. “Oh yeah, I totally butchered that presentation,” or “Classic me, messing up again.” At first, it was just harmless banter, but now? It’s like I can’t say anything about myself without adding a joke at my own expense.... It's like if self deprecating at work has ruined my confidence... And the worst part? I think people have started to believe it. At first, they laughed along, but now, I catch these looks—like they’re wondering if I actually am bad at my job. Maybe they don’t trust me to handle big projects. Maybe I’ve been so good at making myself the office joke that they actually see me that way now.

The other day, I overheard two coworkers talking about me—nothing mean, but one of them said something like, “Yeah, he’s funny, but you can’t really take him seriously. He even says so himself.” That hit me way harder than it should have. I realized that all these little jokes, all the ways I downplayed myself, were actually making people see me as... less. Less competent. Less reliable. Less professional. I’d been so busy making sure no one saw me as arrogant that I accidentally convinced them I wasn’t worth much at all. And honestly, now I don’t even know if I believe in myself anymore. It’s one thing to use humor to connect with people, but it’s another thing to make yourself look incapable. And now? I feel like I’ve spent the last year making myself sound like a joke, and everyone—including me—started believing it. The weird thing is, I never even felt that insecure before. But now? Now I hear my own words playing back in my head, and they don’t feel like jokes anymore.

Now I’m stuck trying to figure out how to undo it. I wanna be taken seriously at work, but how do I suddenly stop making jokes about myself without looking like I’m trying too hard? It feels weird to just start acting confident when I’ve spent so much time making it clear I wasn’t. And the worst part? Even when I try to stop, those thoughts are still there. Like, what if I really am just average? What if they’re right? It’s like I tricked myself into seeing myself the same way I made everyone else see me. And the truth is, I don’t wanna be seen that way anymore. I know I need to change this before it completely wrecks my career, but I don’t even know where to start. Maybe I need to fake confidence until it becomes real. Maybe I need to just stop talking so much and let my work speak for itself. Or maybe, I just need to figure out how to stop believing every joke I ever made about myself.

I keep circling the same stupid question at 2 a.m.: am I pansexual, or am I just bored and confused? I’ve dated guys. I’ve hooked up with a girl once. I’ve had a crush on a nonbinary friend and felt zero need to label it. I didn’t care what they had in their pants. I cared that they were funny and smelled good and made me feel seen. That sounds “pan,” right? But then I hear people say, “Don’t rush to label yourself,” and I roll my eyes. Easy for you to say. You’re not the one staring at your phone wondering why your algorithm is half thirst traps of men and half soft masc lesbians. 🙃 I grew up hearing “you’re either straight or gay,” and anything else was “a phase.” So now I’m stuck interrogating myself like I’m on trial. Am I just attention-seeking? Am I trying to be special? Or am I finally admitting what’s been obvious since high school when I said, “I don’t care about gender, I just like people,” and everyone laughed?

Here’s the thing. I don’t feel a preference most of the time. Attraction just happens. A coworker smiles. A barista flirts. A friend touches my arm and suddenly my brain short-circuits. Gender feels secondary. But then I overthink it. Because sometimes I do lean toward men. Sometimes I fantasize about women more. And sometimes I just want whoever treats me like a human being and not a project. Does that inconsistency cancel the label? Or is that literally what being pan means? I’ve read definitions. “Attraction regardless of gender.” Okay. Cool. That fits. But then someone says, “Pansexuality is just bisexuality with a new name,” and suddenly I’m spiraling. I don’t want to disrespect anyone. I don’t want to invade a space that isn’t mine. I also don’t want to lie to myself. I remember sitting on my friend’s couch last year, drunk, saying, “I think I could date anyone if the vibe is right.” They shrugged and said, “That sounds pretty pan to me.” I laughed it off. But it stuck. I think about the girl I kissed at a party. It wasn’t for male attention. There were no guys around. It was just heat and curiosity and real desire. I think about the nonbinary person I almost dated. I didn’t once question their identity. I just wanted them. Isn’t that the point? Or am I just overcomplicating something that could be simple? Tell me honestly, if you’ve felt this too, did you ever get a clear answer? Or did you just wake up one day and say, “Screw it, this is who I am”?

I’m tired of policing my own thoughts. I’m tired of thinking I need a committee to approve my feelings. I’m definately attracted to people beyond just one gender. That’s real. That’s not a trend. I’ve tried ignoring it. I’ve tried saying “I’m straight, mostly.” That felt like lying. I’ve tried saying “maybe bi?” That felt close but not exact. Pan feels right in my mouth. It feels honest. But I’m scared of being wrong. Scared someone will say, “You’re not queer enough.” Scared someone else will say, “You’re just confused.” Both sides can be brutal. And yeah, sometimes I get defensive. Because why does anyone else get to decide what my attraction means? Why is it such a big damn deal? If I like a person, I like them. Period. I don’t check their gender like it’s a box on a form. But I also don’t want to slap on a label just because it sounds progressive. I want it to be true. I guess that’s where I’m at. Not seeking validation, but also kind of seeking it. Not confused about who I’m attracted to, but confused about what to call it. So I’ll ask you straight up: if you don’t prioritize gender in attraction, if you’ve fallen for different genders without it feeling like a category shift, what would you call yourself? And why does it feel like such a huge thing to admit out loud? Maybe the answer is simple and I’m being dramatic. Or maybe this is just part of figuring myself out. Either way, I’m done pretending the question isn’t there. It is. And it’s loud. 😐

Well, here I am again. This time I will talk about what happened to me a few years ago. I have three daughters, 17-year-old triplets. They are somewhat rebellious and rough, but they are also very well-mannered, respectful, and kind girls. Those who read my previous story already know what happened with the mother of my daughters.

But for those who haven’t read it, I kindly invite you to read the previous story so you can have context about my situation.

What happened is that after my daughters learned about my past and what happened between their mother and me, they noticed my loneliness, since I have always lived to raise them with affection and love, educating them and guiding them to always be better. Honestly, I was fine with how things were, but my daughters decided to sign me up on a dating site, and then they sent me on several blind dates. The truth is, it didn’t go very well… because I was still dealing with the trauma from my ex-partner, Ana.

The first date was with a woman around 32 years old, about my age. At first, we talked nicely; she was polite and everything. But the problem came up when the topic of women arose, because she was extremely sexist and very attached to that mindset. I became serious, because my daughters are actually taller and stronger than me. They go to the gym: the oldest does boxing, the middle one practices archery, and the youngest practices kung fu. When this woman asked me about my daughters, I told her everything without shame, because I am proud of them. She became aggressive and started yelling at me, asking how someone like me could allow my daughters to practice “men’s sports.” I got angry, because they can throw hate at me and curse me if they want, but if they mess with my daughters, I will never allow it. So I politely stood up, told her about her flaws and her lack of respect for others, paid for my meal, and left the place.

After that, my daughters sent me on another blind date. This time it was with a divorced woman who, from the very first second, seemed kind, respectful, and sincere. But at one point she asked me if I drank alcohol or smoked. I honestly have never drunk even a drop of alcohol, nor have I ever smoked, because I don’t like it. Even my daughters don’t drink or smoke. I kindly told the woman that I didn’t, and she looked at me seriously and started drinking and smoking. After a while, she stopped talking to me because she considered me boring and not adventurous.

Honestly, I have been the father of three girls since I was 15 years old. I raised them completely on my own; I worked alone and never had the support of my family or my parents. I kindly told her, “Excuse me, miss, I am a father of three. I dedicate my life to raising them, educating them, spending time with them, and helping them with everything. If you are a party-loving woman who enjoys parties, alcohol, and smoking… and you have also made it clear that you don’t like children, I’m sorry, but I’m leaving. I will pay my part of the dinner. Have a nice night, miss.” I paid the waiter and left.

My daughters were always excited, waiting to know whether the date worked or not. Every time I said no, they got a little frustrated, but it passed, because I always told them what had happened. So they decided to keep sending me on blind dates, but it was terrible.

None of the women were my type, and many things happened. Once, a woman threw dessert in my face because she didn’t like me for being a dedicated father. Another time, a single mother slapped me because she didn’t like my hair color. Another was a feminist, but one of those who are very violent, and I am extremely respectful, since I have three daughters and even act as a homemaker. And so night after night of blind dates passed, and I never found a partner.

My daughters gave up for now, but I always cheer them up, because I am passionate about cooking and I always cook and prepare the food they like. That is life to me, and I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, because seeing that smile of joy on my daughters’ faces gives me the strength to always keep moving forward.

Recently, I embarked on a journey from Melbourne to Dubai. Anticipating the long, fourteen-hour flight, I opted for a premium economy seat to ensure some degree of comfort during the travel. Little did I know that this decision would involve me in an unexpected dilemma.

As I settled into my seat, the passenger beside me struck up a conversation. It turned out he had just been upgraded and was traveling with his new wife, as they were on their honeymoon. He put forth a request; if I could possibly switch seats with his wife, who was seated in the standard economy section towards the rear of the aircraft.

I expressed my congratulations on their marriage and inquired about her seating location. When he pointed out her economy seat, I found myself in a tough spot. I politely declined to switch seats, given the significant difference in comfort and amenities between our seating classes.

He persisted, asking if there was any incentive that might persuade me to change my decision. In response, I suggested that I might consider swapping seats if he compensated me for the price difference, an additional $1,000 AU$. Upon hearing this, he mentioned they were traveling on a budget for their honeymoon, and I congratulated them again while resuming to my own world of music and solitude with my earbuds. His parting words, under his breath, were not too kindly, as he labeled me selfish. My retort was that he, too, was not being considerate by opting for the upgrade alone rather than with his wife.

Later, sharing the incident with my wife, she opined that perhaps I should have been more gracious. Yet, I know well her own disdain for economy class, and I doubt she would have made the switch either.

If this encounter were part of a reality show, one can only imagine the varied reactions of an audience watching the dilemma play out on screen. Viewers might align with my desire to retain a seat I paid extra for, or they might sympathize with the newlywed couple, seeing my decision as unsympathetic. Reality TV thrives on such conflicts, compelling the audience to ponder what they would do in a similar situation, possibly provoking debates and discussions long after the episode airs.

What's your take on switching seats on a plane?

so here's the deal... i'm just sick of all this body policing in certain cultures! like, have you ever heard of those russian families who are super into nudism? i mean, come on, why is it such a big deal if someone wants to be naked at home?? it's their space. their family. as long as they're consenting adults and there's obviously no funny business going on, what's the harm, right? but nooo, for some folks it's like every part of the human body has to be sexualized or controlled. drives me nuts!!! 🙄

and don't get me started on how everyone suddenly becomes an expert on other people's lives!! even people who aren't involved have so much to say about what should and shouldn't be done. everyone's got an opinion but nobody wants to actually understand the cultural significance or personal freedoms involved here. wanna know what really grinds my gears? when people start calling it 'child endangerment' without even knowing what they're talking about! bodies aren't inherently dangerous!!! sometimes family's just gotta bond in their own damn way!! ugh!

now, i'm not saying go out and join a nudist group or whatever if that's not your thing - totally get that it's not everyone's cup of tea. myself included sometimes lol 😅 - but maybe leave room for others to live life by their own terms? maybe try understanding before judging! we talk so much about openness and acceptance these days... except when it comes to stuff that makes us 'uncomfy'. well newsflash: growth happens outside comfort zones!!!

i am just so tired. i am a second semester senior and i dont feel the joy everyone else feels right now and it feels like my life is in shambles and i have noting together. my family is dysfunctional, im slowly losing a grip on my grades, all my friends hate eachother (please see my college apps are ruining my friends story because suprise suprise its gotten worse), i have litearlly nothing going for me and i am writing this while sobbing uncontrollably. i am so tired, my mother has cancer so i take care of everything, litearllty everything you can imagine in a household. bills? did it. sister's swim practice? already omw. cooking? already meal prepped for the whole week. except im under appreciated and burnt out i am depressed and anxious all the time but i cant talk to my mom about it because shes already so sick i cant do that to her, my poor baby sister is going through middle school drama and im her only parental figure, and my dad hates me like he goes out of his way to ignore me and i have to look like i can hold everything together and be put together and go to school and run my four clubs that im president of and deal with my crappy friends who keep shoving their college acceptences in my face and ask me about mine and mock me and still do research and work three jobs and act like everything is ok. im so tired of life im so tired of living like this i sleep at 2am and wake up at 4:30 in the morning and i drink so much caffine everyday just to stay awake and i still have to do good in my four ap classes because everyone said i took five last year why cant i handle it. i hate everything about my life and baout me right now. i have nothing going for me no prom date no boyfriend no one to love me or to love no college to look forward to i hate my body i hate my face i hate everything about me i hate how some underclassman look up to me and i hate being called slurs and a bop and a whore around school just because i like to dress and look a certain way i hate the steryotypes i get i hate everything i wish something genuinally terrible would happen to me i dont even have time to go see my thearpist and no one understands and i cant talk to anyone. there is no light at the end of the tunnel. im so tired.

Grade 6

Okay, so, lowkey this grade flew by FAST. Although, it didn’t feel like that at the time. I think around this time a lot of people were getting into social media and phones, so there was always the exclusion with that. Me and my friend had a gizmo watch (pls tell me you know what that is), and my other friends all had phones or an iPad. I was really close to this one girl in my friend group because she was VERY confident and overall I just wanted to be like her. I think I started following her around like a lost puppy because when I later talked to my friends about it now that that girl has moved schools, they said I was like her puppet. I needed someone to rely on and was going through a lot mentally, so this was a way for me to relax, and I mostly relied on her to keep myself socially active and actually having an identity. I will say, I think around the end of 6th grade was when I was introduced to the chaotic world of mental health issues, but I had been a part of it for a while without noticing, I think. Anyway, This girl that I was friends with kept taking on these very unique labels, I think that was for attention, and I’ve recently reconnected with her she has said the same. She was labeling herself as many different sexualities that almost changed every month almost, and labeled herself as a therian and then all of a sudden, the rest of the friend group followed along (me second because I was so desperate for her approval). I now know my TRUE personality, and identity. While at the time I was identifying as bisexual FOR THIS GIRL, I lowkey found out I actually was, because me and my friend watched the movie “The fallout” with Maddie Ziegler and Jenna Ortega, and I think I thought they were REALLY HOT in that movie for probably 3 years now. Anyway, The therian thing got out of hand, and my parents kept questioning if this was actually true or if it was about the girl (obviously I lied). I ended up getting in A LOT of arguments with my friends (forget what they are abt but I’ll probs remember later), and she always sided with me. Sometimes, the fight would be me against her and the rest of the friend group, and she’d say that she sided with me cause she felt bad. That’s when I felt most alone. I missed at least 20 days of school that year, all of them faking sick or actually sick, most of the time because I was too scared to go to school for the smallest reasons, like choosing partners in a class that I had no friends with. It was so bad in 6th grade. Oh my god, I will NEVER choose to go back there AGAIN. Anyway, that’s it for 6th grade. There’s too much to talk about that, so I’m ending this one here. Will make a 7th grade one soon. Pls feel free to share your opinion (although not in need of advice lol just venting for now).

so i'm kind of not talking to my friends right now. I posted a vent on kandipad.com and one of my IRL friends saw it. we got into this huge argument. I don't really want to go into detail. But I haven't talked to anyone since the argument.

The vent was about how I feel like I'm a burden to everyone around me. Also how I feel like a horrible person, because I say things that I don't mean or that are insensitive but then I can't apologize bc I don't remember what I said. And how I accidentally took over a story me and two of my friends were supposed to be writing together.

One of my friends commented saying that I'm not a burden. I didn't (and still don't) believe him. So we got into this huge argument about like idek anymore. He said at some point that I was mischaracterising him or something, and how I needed to stop with the self-pity, and I told him to leave me alone. Then he said I was treating him like crap. And I just kept asking him to leave me alone until he did.

Which begs the question:

Am I the problem?

Recently, my fiancée threw me for a loop when she requested that we scrap the $8,600 wedding gown I had previously purchased for her, in favor of a new dress—one that costs a jaw-dropping $33,000, which is more than half of our entire wedding budget.

Here's the backdrop: I'm engaged to the woman of my dreams who belongs to a Native American tribe, and the wedding is going to take place on her home reservation. Before meeting her, I was already involved with the tribe, helping out where I could, like when I bought a mobile home for an elder whose daughter had been incarcerated, leaving her with three grandchildren to raise.

Thanks to these connections and my contributions, the tribe’s council has allowed us to hold our wedding ceremony there. I’m covering all the expenses for the wedding, which totals up to a fixed budget of $60,000. The event will feature traditional dancers, drummers, and a feast—all catered by women from the reservation. Our wedding is relatively small with 80 guests, including only my mother and my adult nephew from my side.

I genuinely appreciate how hard the tribe works to overcome economic difficulties, and I'm glad that our wedding can bring some financial benefits. My fiancée has always had grand dreams about her wedding since she was a small girl. I’m not particularly keen on wedding details myself, so the spotlight is all hers. I even opted to wear a black gown with tuxedo details to let her shine. My one firm stipulation was a strict $60,000 budget, and I hired a planner to ensure we stuck to it.

A while back, my fiancée found an $8,600 dress she adored, which was immediately bought and fitted. Then, as the wedding plans progressed, one of the tribal elders insisted that she should wear a traditional tribal gown crafted by a native artisan. The price tag for this culturally significant dress is a staggering $33,000, as it would be adorned with intricate beadwork.

When she approached me with this, I was shocked at the expense which would derail our set budget. I suggested perhaps selling the original gown and trying to compromise on the new one’s cost, but the conversation didn’t go well. My fiancée believes that not wearing the tribal gown would be disrespectful and humiliating, not only to herself but to her entire tribe.

Despite having the financial means, I've always been prudent with budgeting—understanding that’s how you sustain wealth. Now, my fiancée isn’t speaking to me, unless it’s to emphasize the urgency that the artisan needs to start on the dress immediately. I’m stuck and frankly, frustrated. What would you do in my shoes?

Imagining this scenario played out in a reality show, it's easy to see the drama escalating quickly. The cameras would feed on our tension, probably zooming in on emotional face-offs about tradition versus thriftiness. Reality TV thrives on such discord, likely painting me as the villain for not yielding or portraying my fiancée as overly demanding. It makes you wonder if true resolution can happen under the public eye or if the pressure would only deepen the divide.

What should I do about this wedding dress debacle? I think my wife is a bridezilla...

Why is it that everyone around me has so many ‘talking stages’ or crushes or are even dating someone and why is it that I’m still single? I’ve tried everything at this point and I don’t know what to do.. I’ve been on dating apps, have gone on dates and been ghosted afterwards… always tried to change to get others to look at me or even like me but nobody ever cares. When I look in the mirror, I’m not upset about my appearance.. I think I look pretty attractive but I might just be too confident. I might be too ugly for the people I’m interested in. .

I feel like a huge part of why I don’t have anyone yet is my interests and the way I look. I try to be honest and upfront on dates. I dress how I want, talk about what I want and I usually take the lead in conversations and decide what to do but I’m not white. I’m not normal. I don’t dress like everyone else. I’m not even truly straight. And maybe that’s why I’m so unloveable. Sure, I’m a man and I’m still pretty young and I have plenty of time, I know that!! But I’m missing out.

I’ve never experienced teenage love and I’ve never even had a real crush before. It’s like I force myself to like someone sometimes because they sort of like me.. but I can’t really see myself in a relationship with them, even if I crave it so much.. I just crave to be intimate with someone.. ANYONE at this point.

But honestly, I’ve given up. I pretend I don’t care when I actually really do but I just know that these type of things aren’t for me and will never ever happen to me simply because I don’t fit into the standard

so I've been friends with her for about 3 years, and I'm not even over exaggerating when I say she has no concept of things beyond what she has experienced. she literally thought sore teeth didn't exist because she never had them. so anyway she judges me for practically everything I do, and I swear its like she struggles being happy for me, when I literally went on call with her to give her advice while she was talking to a guy, listened and hyped her up for three days straight when the guy was all she ever talked about. so recently when we were volunteering these two guys came up to us and one was tall and kinda cute and the other was not ugly but he looked like REALLY young like out little brothers young, and the tall guy asked for my number and the short one asked for hers. I was already looking at her though because she has pulled all the guys in the past so I didn't even expect one to ask for my number. so afterwards we kinda just went on with what we were doing and she kept calling them chopped chuz when mine wasn't acc chopped... so like I kinda just acclimated to what she was saying and agreed but she literally wouldn't stop calling them chopped like literally doing it nonstop so I started getting deffensive bc he acc wasn't and it was annoying me. so she like reluctantly stopped for a bit. so I've been texting him and stuff and he is actually super sweet, but one time I asked her for advice for what to text because he said something I didn't know how to respond to and she just said "idk just stop talking to him" and switched the conversation to her. so I confronted her about it and literally reminded her about how I listened to her talk about her crush for three days straight, and she literally just disregarded it. she literally gets like upset when I talk about him. and on another tangent, I get tired super easily. like, get 12 hours of sleep and still be yawning in class tired. because of it, I don't always want to hang out after school with her, and recently she has started getting petty about it. whenever I say I don't want to hang out she literally says "ohh is baby too tierdd did she not get her Naptime" like what in the highschool musical bullying... like ik I'm making all of this sound like a joke but it's actually so draining. I don't think she realizes how many little comments she makes but they have gone from not thinking before speaking to passive aggressive and targeted. I'm not compleatly innocent either, I 100% have done things passive aggressively, but I make sure never to do them unprovoked, and always try to at least keep it in check. she has not only just started doing this either, she has not thought about what she says for the three years I've known her. it broke me down a bit, and she knows it. she just doesn't seem to care about what I have to say. she forces me to keep conversation going if I try talking or just interrupts me and brings the topic back to her. I somtimes say stuff like I wish I had more friends, but then she says 'your not gonna get any friends if you just sit around and never talk to anyone" and that's true, but then when I try to talk with new people she dominates the conversation, interupts me, and answers for me. she answers for me A LOT and it's actually so annoying. she is so hypocritical and will tell me not to do something, only to do the exact same thing herself. I just dont know what to do about her anymore. I guess I just want to know if I'm overreacting or not. there's a lot more, but that's way to long to write about.

thanks for getting this far