Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Two years after my divorce from my husband of 26 years, the situation remains complex, especially since we share four children. Our divorce was friendly enough, considering he revealed he was gay and we both agreed to separate amicably. Changing my last name after the split didn't seem necessary; imagining the hassle of updating IDs, legal documents, and bank accounts was too daunting, so I kept his surname for official uses but reverted to my maiden name socially.

Things took an unexpected turn when my ex-husband recently got engaged to a lovely man. I've been nothing but supportive of their union. However, during a recent celebration for my grandson's birthday, my ex—out of the blue—suggested I should consider dropping his last name. His fiancé added to the conversation, expressing his discomfort with me retaining the name, which was quite surprising.

I tried to lighten the mood with a joke about the bureaucratic nightmare it would involve, but they didn’t seem amused. My ex pressed on, suggesting that my clinging to his name hindered them from fully moving on and starting a new chapter. The request seemed odd since this had never been a problem over the past couple of years.

The tension escalated after the party, with my ex insisting that my keeping the last name was problematic for his fiancé, portraying a struggle to begin anew. I argued that our children also bear the same last name, and changing it would make me feel disconnected from them. The most painful part of this ordeal was my youngest son telling me that the fiancé feels threatened by me holding onto the last name, viewing it as if I still harbored some claim over my ex.

My ex even claimed that his fiancé saw my retaining the name as a "power play," which struck me as unfair. I feel torn between maintaining peace and being coerced into relinquishing a part of my identity to appease his partner’s insecurities. Though I’ve agreed to reconsider the situation after their wedding, my ex has labeled me as petty and selfish, escalating the conflict.

The irony is, my friends believe I should maintain my stance, but my children are split, creating further discord. The situation seems absurdly trivial to be causing such unrest. If this dispute were aired on a reality show, I imagine the audience would be polarized but likely sympathetic to the absurdity of being pressured over a name that ties me to my children, not just my past.

Should I cave to maintain harmony, or should I stand firm in my decision to keep the last name until I’m ready to change it, if ever?

So I am a 12th grade student. I am 17 and my bf is 19. He was my senior. And everyone in my school are jealous of my relationship. Our receptionist told my mom that I am going out with him. My mom didn't believe her much but one day she doubted that I may have something, so they unlocked my phone with my fingerprint when I was sleeping and checked everything. The chats, the photos. It became a big issue pretty soon and both our families talked and asked us to end it. Their main problem was not our age but that we belonged to different castes. Soon he got sent to a hostel and I stayed back in our city as I am still in my highschool. Everytime I go out, my parents doubt that I may meet someone, not him, but maybe someone else. As if I am a slut who maintains a new guy every month. And the girl who got rejected by my bf along with her chapri gang started spreading rumours that me and him slept together. That bitch even told my teachers the same. And damaged my reputation. I got sick and she wished I would die. And now she comes showing false concern. And from the moment this issue happened, I lost interest in my studies and basically everything. From straight A's student to someone who barely gets pass marks. Boards are 10 days away and all I want to do is cry and sleep, or die. The torture is just too much

hey, just needing to clear my head a bit. i'm a 28-year-old guy, and i've been in my first real relationship for a while now. everything's going well, but i can't help wrestling with some insecurities. see, my girlfriend, who's amazing btw, has been in quite a few relationships before me. she's got this whole experience thing going on, and i sometimes feel like i'm playing catch-up. i know she loves me, but these nagging thoughts creep in, whispering stuff like, "what if she misses the excitement of past relationships?" or "are you good enough?" it's like imposter syndrome on steroids, and it's messing with my head. have you ever been in a situation where you felt less experienced than your partner, and how did you handle it? 🤔

i mean, communication is key, right? but every time i think about bringing it up, i'm worried it'll sound whiny or insecure, which obviously it is, but still. 😅 i don't want to push her away with my doubts. it's a vicious cycle, though – the more i tell myself not to worry, the more i actually do. it's like trying to ignore the elephant in the room. we all arguably bring baggage into relationships, but what do you do when you know yours might tip the scales? i've tried working on myself, becoming more self-assured, but remnants of insecurity still linger. do you reckon it'll always be this way? or is there a turning point where these thoughts stop showing up uninvited? maybe that's the million-dollar question for anyone in similar shoes. if you've got any insight, sharing would be awesome....

why when you're talking to your parents and you're trying to vent to them or something and they start giving you unwanted advice and then you want to cry because they're not taking you serious and what you're saying and then you're about to cry and they ask oh are you about to cry and they start mocking you about it and then they make a face try to show that you're going to cry or something and then when you actually start doing it they're just like oh there's nothing to cry about like why do you do that like you're my parent you're supposed to hug me and call me if you think I'm going to cry you're not supposed to just sit there and laugh at me or make a face about it because I don't want you to give me this advice I'm just telling you how I feel when you do a certain something I'm not telling you to tell me how I should feel when something happens or how I should deal with something I'm just telling you how I feel what I'm going to do I'm not asking for this advice I'm just telling you what's happening and how I feel I'm not telling you to give me this advice because I already know what I'm going to do about half the time you're the reason I do because you made me go up so fast because if I don't grow fast enough then I'm a problem because I need to keep my room cleaning you this and you watch a little sister you need to wash the dishes you need to watch all the siblings and make sure that they don't do anything and then all this stuff so yes I know what I'm going to do because I'm not I'm a child but I'm not a 7 year old who's asking for advice I am a teenager who knows already what they're going to do and then on top of that I'm just doing so many things so I don't have a moment to breathe and so when I finally telling you how I feel I'm not telling you to make fun of me when I'm about to start crying because I'm finally letting all my emotions I'm not telling you to put a finger next to your eye to make the tears that are about to fall for my eyes I am telling you how am I feeling hug me say it's going to get better don't tell me this advice that's not even about the situation because you never been in this situation before because I'm different from my parents and they didn't grow up in the situation that I am and I am a very very well off child and I will never say that I'm not grateful for my parents do for me because I am beyond grateful they do everything that I ask and it they just don't have it right now they'll tell me and then they will come up with the plans trying to make it happen for me so I am so beyond grateful for that and I will never say that I love but there is a certain moments where they are just so unbearably unsufferable because I'm not allowed to express my feelings half the time because when I do finally try to express my feelings so it is not it's not that serious or something like please you need to understand but that's it because parents are going to keep doing what they do and no matter how many times I tried to tell them it's never going to stop . (this was typed using voice text so if that if it doesn't make sense that's why my bad too anyone reading this)

sincerely,

Melody (13 f)

I hate college .

The course I'm doing is boring and we just do the same work over and over again and no one ever speaks up about it.

Every since the October half term I've had no help on a Wednesday. When they can be bothered to give me the help I need it's only for other one lesson or tow.

I also can't last the whole day at college due to my knee and if I do manage to last the whole day. I end up in a little of pain.

I then don't go into college at all the next day because I 'm just in to much pain and I struggle to put any weight on or through my knee.

I have also now got a date for physical therapy.

and just in general I don't know what to do anymore as I don't like and am not enjoying college and the course I'm doing and I'm debating weather or not to change course or just leave the college all together.

Every year on my birthday, I find myself caught in a whirlwind of well-meaning chaos. As an autistic person, fully processing and reacting to family and friends sending me video messages with birthday wishes often feels like trying to walk through a funhouse distortion mirror room. Their genuine affection is clear, and for that, I am perpetually grateful, yet the pressure to deliver an adequate response in return is exceptionally daunting. In receiving a video message or even a traditional card, I often wonder, what’s the best way to thank these wonderful people who took time out of their day to make mine special? Should I simply reply with a text or perhaps even attempt my own video message back? I've tried various methods over the years, but somehow I always feel that my responses fall short in expressing the depth of my gratitude. My family, bless their hearts, are always enthusiastic, and their messages burst with joy and colorful confetti of random anecdotes and jokes, but deciphering these signals and responding with matching enthusiasm proves challenging, like solving a puzzle with a few missing pieces.

Reflecting on my personal anecdotes, I recall the time my cousin orchestrated an entire virtual birthday party, complete with coordinated games and a delightful slideshow of childhood photos. While I was deeply touched, I found myself flustered in the aftermath, unsure of how to respond appropriately. I thanked them, of course, but did my gratitude seem genuine, expressed solely through typed words and a scattering of emojis? In these moments, I consider whether my difficulty in conveying my feelings might be unique, or if others, regardless of circumstance, share this subtle plight. Despite my responses often feeling understated compared to the warmth I receive, I am hopeful that my family feels appreciated. This leads me to believe that genuine gratitude, though complex in expression, need not be extravagant. A heartfelt "thank you" can indeed speak volumes when delivered sincerely. Might there be a perfect balance between expressing gratitude and maintaining my own comfort? I continue to seek it, steering through the maze of social conventions, with each birthday providing another opportunity to refine my approach and, I hope, bring more serenity and authenticity to my expressions of thanks.

Anxiety is why we're alive. We survived mammoths, saber-tooth tigers, big lizards probably, deadly insects, and all that. It's why I'm not drowning in the ocean, just swimming in the pool, which I quit as well because I didn't enjoy swimming as a sport. It's why no shark has eaten me thinking I'm a fish. Yes I know why they accidentally eat humans sometimes, they think we're food, they're kinda dumb at times, not evil. Dolphins, though... Still, my grandpa's family only got lucky, being fishermen and all. How did my grandpa even live near the shores of Kerala, fishing and living in a hut before he grew up to be a doctor in Mangalore with a big house? Dad said the tides of the Arabian Sea are deadly, so how did grandpa live? How did my older cousin casually swim on the shore, when the tides looked huge? The ocean isn't safe. How am I even alive? On one hand, I was born with a cleft palate, because LiFe DeCiDeD BeCaUsE I wAs A gIrL (apparently it's more common in girls with isolated cleft palates), yet I got it fixed and I didn't require a speech therapist, I got eczema at 3 and newfound cat and dust allergies at 12, yet I didn't die. I ate salmon and all sorts of fish, except for the very niche ones (shark, stingray, all that), yet I didn't get any swollen throat stuff or anaphylactic reactions. Maybe I'll get a lobster allergy as a new one because my mom has one where her throat gets super itchy if she eats a lot, otherwise, no anaphylaxis.

I can confidently say that about my brother, bro got the very early stages of pneumonia, he got hospitalized with an IV drip for 2 days. Even before that, he'd had to use the nebulizer so many times during winter especially. He's fine now, and he rarely uses it at 11.5, but me? Nah, my body decided, "Let's give you more allergies!" I love cats, but I have to force myself to enjoy the marine life only because of allergies. My grandma's asthma lasted until she's 65 now, and NOW she can only walk with cats. Back then, even when I was a baby, nah. This is it, I'll end up like my grandma and ancestors. My great-granny even had eczema. I can't even pet cats now! I can't bury my face in it and be like normal people, I'd have to wear a mask and woolen gloves. I went to a park and a cat got so comfortable with me, it went on my lap and lied down, and when I wanted to move, it didn't scratch or bite me, he just jumped off, eyes still sleepy. I rubbed his face, and then I started sneezing and my eyes got red. My mom got me bubble tea later on in the park, it was good, but still, I can't be normal. I'd have to move towards fish because well, they can't produce Fel d 1, they just look at you like you're their food god. Still, they don't love me, they just exist and move in schools. And I obviously can't own a dolphin because I hate them and whales are...bruh. They're loving, but they're HUMONGOUS.

I've LOOKED at cats far too long, but it's fine. Most hate humans anyways. Dogs to me are kinda scary. How do people even have cats with allergies? Heck, Mayo Clinic says this, "If you don't have a pet but are considering adopting or buying one, make sure you don't have pet allergies before making the commitment." WebMD says, "If you or a family member has cat allergies, you shouldn't have a cat in the home...Protect yourself. When around cats, wear a mask with an N95 respirator, and wash your hands with soap and water if you touch them (where am I even gonna get that?)..." And then they say this, "Cat allergy symptoms happen due to proteins in a cat's saliva, urine, and dander, affecting around 10% of people in the U.S. Even if you're not allergic to cats, they can bring in other allergens from outside. While some breeds are "hypoallergenic," any cat has the potential to cause issues. Symptoms of a cat allergy include coughing, wheezing, itchy eyes, and skin irritation, often showing up quickly after contact. To confirm an allergy, consult a doctor for tests, and consider avoiding cats altogether if you or a family member is allergic. Treatment options include antihistamines, decongestants, nasal steroid sprays, and allergy shots, though prevention remains the best approach." The more I tell myself I shouldn't own a cat, the more I'll get used to the lack of affection from pretty but essentially emotionally unintelligent fish. That park cat just somehow trusted me more, which stray-wise, big mistake, it should've tried to scratch me like normal cats when I wanted it to get off. Again, cats hate humans anyways, why else would most pet cats not care about you and demand you serve them? I'll stick to fish, at least it's more predictable when they ask you for food, nice water and nice rocks. I've learnt to wish less for what I want.

What's wrong with what I did? Accept that you'll get less, the more you'll accept that you are less. There's one cosplay event I wanna go, and even though it's in April, I'm scared of failing exams the month before and it not feeling worth it, even if my parents will try to support. They're weird for not yelling at me for scoring low marks last exam. They yelled at me more when I said, "I'm stupid, that's why I failed." I don't even know cosplaying, so what's the point, I'm gonna mock myself in the future for even trying and looking ugly. I'm new at dancing as well, so in the class after I had to do it solo, the students clapped without the teacher telling them, and I asked one of them if they're just clapping because they had to and I know I'm not good, then she looked at me, baffled, told the teacher, and he said I "did alright, good enough", and she said she did worse than me early on. No way. They usually say that to appear humble, I've seen enough movies to figure out that they're lying. My brother even told me I shouldn't have asked her, especially if they clapped without the teacher saying anything. But the more I accept I'm stupid, I'm ugly, I'm worthless, I'm weak-bodied, and I don't deserve what I get, I'm real, grown up. I don't deserve the relief I got after the exams, it just means I'm stupid. In fact, why don't mom and dad act like normal, Indian parents? Tell me my worth is the exams, because if I don't pass, at 8th, I won't go into 9th, I won't have a job opportunity, I won't go to a new grade, I'll be humiliated and held back for being stupid, and that I am stupid. They get more mad when I tell them I'm stupid, because that's the truth, I'm stupid. What's relief, what is "good" and all when their own child is a failure? I can't handle pressure, which means I can't do any jobs which gives me big bucks!

I remember pointless things. What good will marine biology do if anyways most deep sea creatures are harmless to us? Anyways most people grow up not doing what they like. They love space and even when they wanna be an astronomer, not even an astronaut, an ASTRONOMER, they end up accounting money, like everyone else. Like every normal human. Accepting worthlessness is peace. You matter to no one. You don't. If I die, it makes no difference to the 153,000 per day deaths. I really don't matter, and when you accept your worth as much as turd, you live life accepting you're never good enough instead of trying to fly with wings as a human.

You know, today has genuinely felt unreal. From waking up in the morning scrolling constantly without a signle muscle to pull me out until 10, to searching for job applications in hopes of eating away at my time in other ways, I felt like I have been aimlessly floating in this world without a single care. I currently have a girlfriend, and think about what could've been with my ex no mattter how much time passes. I feel like i'm going crazy, and I feel so dead. I don't know where to aim myself, and constantly strive to look for ways to become a better person, but the same feeling still exists deep inside of me. I also want to share that, me and my ex talked for months, and I felt like the way things ended were so quick that I was unable to gain closure, and no matter what I do, every girl for the rest of my life will be a rebound. does anyone know ways of being constantly productive. I want to live a life I can look back on, and smile at.

Recently my sister Mandy expressed her frustrations about the constant chaos within her family. She couldn't fathom why her family couldn't just get along and enjoy moments together. For around 20 minutes, she poured out her feelings while I mostly listened silently. When she pointed out my quietness, I acknowledged that she needed to vent, but I also silently thought that her ideal of a harmonious family seemed a bit unrealistic given the complexity of her family history.

To give you a clearer picture: Mandy had her eldest, Ethan, when she was just 18 with a boyfriend who turned out to have another simultaneous relationship that also bore a child. The discovery led to a messy conflict that ended with both mothers being arrested. She promised never to let that woman or her child interact with Ethan. She later married at 21 and had two more kids, Jenna and Levi, only to divorce their father immediately after Levi was born. By the time she was revamping her life yet again, she met another man. His former relationship had produced a child, Bella, whom Mandy now raises as her own, though unofficially. Jenna married and had a child, underwent a divorce, and got pregnant by another man during the marriage. Mandy's youngest, Cole, is also from a separate relationship.

Mandy is married once more, to a man with a complex paternal history of his own, including multiple children from different marriages and a non-biological child whom he's very close to. The family dynamics are intricate, with shifting loyalties and external familial tensions contributing to the turmoil.

During her venting session, Mandy couldn't understand why her family was uniquely disjointed. I ventured to say that very blended families are inherently complex, but she argued that others manage even bigger families without such discord. I responded, perhaps too bluntly, that her family felt more like a circus than a cohesive unit.

Mandy took offense to this, calling it cruel and a misrepresentation of their familial bonds. She demanded an apology, claiming that despite perceptions, they are indeed a family. We haven't spoken since then.

If my situation were to unfold on a reality show, the reaction might be explosive or perhaps even lead to a divided audience. Viewers might sympathize with the stress of managing such a blended family, while others might critique the dynamics or my harsh choice of words. Reality TV thrives on conflict and complex personal stories, so it could either provide a platform for understanding or flare tensions even further.

I wonder, am I really the jerk here for calling it like I see it, or is it just the hard truth that was tough for her to hear? How to get advice on family issues?

It’s weird to even say this out loud, but I got a tattoo to cover my self-harm scars. And honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about it. The whole idea started off as something empowering, like reclaiming my body, right? You know the line, “Your skin is your story”—some therapist threw that out years ago during one of my low points. It stuck. I thought maybe, just maybe, putting something beautiful over something so painful would help change the narrative. So I chose a design I’d doodled in a journal years ago—something abstract but meaningful, sort of a fractured mandala, each line connecting past and present. The artist was kind and didn't ask too many questions, just looked me in the eye and said, “We’ll make this a transformation piece.” That sounded nice. Better than what it really was: me trying to hide from myself in ink and pain management creams.

Now that it’s been a few weeks, I stare at it and feel conflicted. The tattoo is well done—technically clean, good contrast, smart shading—but the scars are still visible beneath it. Not physically, not if you’re just glancing. But I know they’re there. That skin holds memory like film holds shadows, and even the pigment can’t overwrite the fact that I hurt myself deliberately, over and over, for years. Sometimes I catch my reflection and wonder who I’m trying to fool. Is this ink for healing, or just another form of concealment? It’s a question I keep circling, like a moth around a porchlight. I'm 38 now. Not a kid experimenting with identity. Not a teenager struggling with trauma she couldn’t name. A grown adult who still can't quite figure out what to do with all this leftover pain.

The part I didn’t expect was how other people would respond. Friends said things like “Wow, that’s powerful” or “It’s so meaningful,” like they were in on some secret spiritual moment. I smiled and nodded and said things like “Yeah, it represents growth,” but I never corrected them when they assumed it was just art for art’s sake. One coworker even said, “That’s dope, did it hurt?” and I just laughed and said “Not more than the stuff it’s covering.” He didn’t get it. And maybe I didn’t want him to. The truth is, there's a whole subculture around tattooing over scars, and it's not always about covering things up—sometimes it's about honoring survival. But I’m not sure if I survived something, or if I just stalled it.

I know this might come across as ungrateful or overly cynical, especially since not everyone gets a second chance to rewrite their skin. But what if rewriting isn't enough? What if healing isn't about erasing the past but learning to live with it in broad daylight? Some days I think I did the right thing—turned something painful into something beautiful, like alchemy. Other days, I feel like I’ve just added another mask, one that requires constant touch-ups and explanation. I'm not embarrassed by the scars anymore, but I am tired of what they represent: all those years spent pretending I was fine, when I was really just holding myself together with caffeine and denial.

Anyway, I guess what I’m saying is—if you’re thinking about getting a self-harm tattoo, ask yourself why. Like really, why. Is it closure? Is it expression? Is it shame in disguise? Maybe it’s a mix of all those. I can’t tell you the right answer because I still don’t know mine. All I know is that ink fades slower than memory, and covering something up doesn’t always mean it’s healed. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe healing isn’t linear. But I do wish someone had told me that before I sat down in that studio, gripping the chair like it was gonna save me.

This morning was unusually tense with my fiance, Peter. While engaging in my daily routine of brushing my teeth and preparing for the day, Peter decided to sit our little daughter in her high chair to watch her favorite show. Instead of attending to her, he got caught up in watching TikTok videos for what seemed like forever, around 10 to 15 minutes. When I finally finished up and noticed what was happening, I was quite upset to see that he hadn't started making breakfast yet.

His excuse was that he was waiting on me to decide what our daughter should eat, even though he fully knows that she normally has scrambled eggs on daycare mornings—she's one, after all. I immediately called him out on his delay, labeling it a pure excuse. This triggered a wider argument about him not proactively helping out with our daughter or her daily needs in the morning. In a moment of apparent frustration, Peter suggested I should draft him a "list" of tasks he should undertake concerning our daughter’s morning routine. I shot down the idea instantaneously because I feel he should inherently know what needs to be done as a parent. There's no list handed to me; I just assess the situation and manage her necessities like diaper changes, dressing her for the day, handling her teeth brushing, and preparing daycare bottles.

Amidst our heated discussion, I adamantly refused to create such a list. My point being, why should I have to spoon-feed parenting duties to someone who’s equally responsible for them? It's baffling and somewhat disheartening that after so much time, these responsibilities aren’t understood and shared.

Imagine this situation unfolding in a reality show setting—cameras capturing every detail and broadcasting our domestic squabble to an audience. Would the viewers empathize with my frustration or view my refusal to write out a list as uncooperative? Reality TV thrives on drama and complications, so it's interesting to ponder whether such a seemingly mundane yet relatable conflict could strike a chord with viewers or simply amplify the judgment towards either of us?

Am I wrong for not wanting to make a parenting "to-do" list for my fiance?

Man, I just gotta get this off my chest, like for real. I’m 16, right? And my relationship with my mom is the absolute worst. It’s crazy how different she is with my little sister, like she practically worships her or something. It’s like they’re best friends and I’m just... there. 😕

Every time I walk into the room, it feels like I’m stepping into a battlefield; she gives me this look that just screams annoyance. Like, what’s up with that? It’s not like I’m a total jerk or anything. I mean, I try to keep it chill, but every little thing I do just seems to set her off. “Why can’t you be more like your sister?” is basically her daily mantra. Seriously, how am I supposed to compete with someone who can do no wrong? It’s exhausting. 😤 My sister is sweet and always gets the praise. I don’t blame her, she’s cool, but jeez, a little love for the older sibling wouldn’t hurt either! I can’t help but feel like I’m constantly walking on eggshells around my mom. Even things like asking her for a favor seem to ignite a volcanic eruption. “I’m too busy, why don’t you just handle it yourself?” Like, okay, I get that you have a lot to juggle, but come on, don’t I deserve a little consideration? I mean, it’s only fair. I’m a teen trying to navigate life and school and whatever else comes my way. Just last week, I asked her if she could help me with some school project ideas. She hardly listened and just told me to Google it. Like, really? I get that independence is important and all, but there’s a fine line between being supportive and being dismissive. 😒 My friends joke around about their moms being “just a little bit overprotective,” but I’m over here just wishing for some attention!

I honestly can’t figure out what I’ve done to deserve this treatment. I’ve tried talking to her about it but every time I bring it up, she makes me feel like I'm whining. “You need to toughen up,” she says. I’m like, what am I supposed to do with that? It’s not like I’m asking her to hand me everything on a silver platter. I just want some recognition, you know? Like... occasionally ask about my day or show a little interest when I’m venting about a bad test or a friendship issue. But nah, it’s always about my sister's dance competitions or her latest cute outfit. I can’t help but feel like a second-class citizen in my own home. It’s frustrating, to say the least. And the worst part? When my friends are over and see how affectionate she is with my sister, they definitely notice the strong contrast. You could cut the tension with a knife! 😳 I can’t help but wonder if she even realizes she’s doing it. Maybe she’s caught up in her own world and just doesn’t see me. I’m there, but I feel invisible. It’s kind of like being the background character in a movie where everyone else gets the spotlight. Is it wrong that I want to yell, “Hey! I’m here too!” I constantly catch myself daydreaming about what it would be like to have a mom who genuinely had my back. It sounds simple, right? Just someone who’s on my side, cheering me on instead of the constant critic. Is that too much to ask?

I hear my friends tell stories about their moms and I can’t help but feel this wave of jealousy wash over me. They have those heart-to-heart chats that I would honestly die for. 🤦‍♂️ Real talk, have I done something specific that triggered this? Or does she just have a weird preference? Why does it feel like I'm in competition for her affection? I don’t need to be her favorite, but a little balance would be nice! So yeah, sometimes I just wanna scream, "I hate my mom," but deep down, I know that it’s not really that simple. I guess in some ways, I still want her to notice me. I don't know, maybe I'm imagining it all, but it sure feels real to me. Thanks for hearing me out, this has been building up for a minute!

15 year old here.

Although some people find me smart (and I can agree to a certain degree) it is a middle position. Advanced topics of mathematics, physics, computer science and etc. capture my interest, but I often navigate them worse than most people considered prodigies or anything alike. It's not a matter of just confidence, self-esteem and such as it is a quality I genuinely value and would love to have, is required for most of my interests, so it is not a situation where one grieves over lack of it without a reason. Typically, raw intelligence can not be drastically improved. Most I can do is educate myself, but that just does not feel enough.

What do I do? How do I cope with not being even nearly as smart as people from my social circle that I strive to be alike to?

[Translated from Ukrainian. Reminder: IIWIARS is English only]

I stayed silent about this for a long time. A very long time. But, apparently, the time has finally come to tell the truth. Not polished, not “neat,” but real.

These two years of my relationship were not just a difficult period for me. They were two years that broke me morally, emotionally, and psychologically. And I know that many people do not even realize just how deeply.

It all started beautifully. Truly beautifully. It was happiness, joy, teenage passion, the feeling that I was needed, loved, chosen. I believed in him. I believed in us. I believed that if a person looked at you a certain way, said certain words, promised certain things, then it was not for nothing. Back then I really did love, and I gave myself sincerely.

Then I got pregnant. And from that moment, a completely different reality began.

It was not just shock. It was fear, guilt, panic, an inner rupture.

The choice of whether to keep or get rid of the child. And at the same time, his pleading to keep the baby. His words that he would stay by my side. That he would do everything for us. That he would not leave. That he would handle it. That I would not be alone. That he would be a man, a father, a support.

I believed him.

And then reality began to completely destroy me. His broken promises, betrayals, lies, screenshots of messages, unfamiliar girls in our home, while I was in labor, when I was in my most vulnerable state and was texting him about how scared and how much pain I was in. Every new betrayal tore me to pieces, every lie was another blow to my psyche.

Financial dependence was finishing me off in its own way. When you are morally exhausted, with a child who needs constant attention, and you realize that your stability depends on a person who keeps hurting you, it is a trap. You live in constant fear and tension. The fear of his outbursts of aggression, of broken things, haunted me all the time.

Taking care of the child also became a heavy burden. Because of stress, I lost my milk at six months. I felt guilt, confusion, and despair, because I wanted to give my child everything, and I could not. That only added even more inner tension and a sense of helplessness.

My inner world was collapsing. Questions kept spinning in my head: “Why am I alive?” “Maybe it would be better if I were gone?” And these were not just sad thoughts. It was the scream of a psyche that could no longer endure it.

Self-harm became a way to survive. At first it was pulling out my hair, then a failed suicide attempt, then cutting. It was despair, a scream inside myself, an attempt to let out pain that could not find a way out. And it was a real, honest feeling that shows just how deeply broken I was.

And the worst part was that in those moments there was no one who could fully accept me. I wrote to ChatGPT. It was the only way to speak out, to pour out all the brokenness, fear, betrayal, despair, nervous breakdowns, financial dependence, fear of explosions and aggression. I wrote to it when I did not know where to put all this pain, when I wanted to simply stop the whole world and feel nothing.

Every day was a battle. Every minute was a test. I was fighting him, the fear, myself, my own emotions. I was losing peace, health, inner safety. I looked at the world through stress and a constant sense of danger.

Many times I waited, many times I forgave, many times I hoped he would change. But reality was merciless. And it was not because I was “not enough.” It was because not everything can be endured, even if you give a person everything.

Now the situation feels like it is on the verge of ending. I do not know exactly what stage the relationship is in, but I feel that the end is near. And that brings both fear and relief at the same time.

These two years taught me an unbelievable amount: about myself, about pain, about boundaries, about my own strength. I understood that even among fear, betrayals, financial dependence, stress, and self-harm, it is possible to preserve yourself. And I am holding on, because I know: I will be able to live on, even after everything that happened.

P.S.

“Teenage passion” — because it started when I was 15.

I got pregnant at 16.

I gave birth just before turning 17.

I will be 18 soon.

And the scariest thing in this story is that all of this was lived through not by a grown woman.

But by me — a child.

look so there was this guy i was dating like since october ish and we were on and off a lot for like awhile okay maybe 2 months ago is when we like stopped being on and off so much. during the time i wasnt talking to him i met this other guy. now before i continue lets call my ex 1 and this new guy 2. so i started to really like 2 like a lot and i guess he started to like me as well. we didnt really define what we were but we would always say we were just friends right. so one night i was on a trip and i had an argument with 2 and i was just really sad and oh my god did i miss 1 so much. like i literally unblocked him and decided to text him . this was probably such a bad decision ever. after i texted 1 it was probably already really late at night so he didnt respond until the next morning. after he responded i started to talk with him a lot like A LOT to the point where we added eachother back on everything. now this was really bad bc i still was really in love with 1 but i kinda still had a crush on 2. a few days go by wtv wtv. and i was back from my trip so the night i got back i believe i decided to call 2. now it was like maybe 10pm around that time and sometimes when we call we just decide to screenshare and watch tiktoks wtv wtv. so anyway we were watching tiktok together until he told me to go to my ig dms. and i was like "what why?" and 2 continued to say "well i saw u followed u ex back, can u show me ur dms w him" now i obviously said no bc in the dms i was literally saying how i stilled loved him. so this proceeded for awhile of him asking to see the dms and i just continued to say no. then 2 threatened to block me or whatever and i was like what? now mind u i still had a crush on 2, it was really bad like i ended up blocking 1 and then wtv wtv happened. i fucked up so bad bro like idk WHY i listened to 2. but anyway maybe a few weeks go by later and i started to talk to my old friend and we didnt talk for awhile, lets call her 3 okay. so i started to talk with her blah blah and my ex came up into the topic along with her ex bc my ex and her ex are like best friends basically. anyway we started talking about them right until she had the smart idea to fucking re add him or whatever. so after that happens a WHOLE fucking gc is made bro. so my ex her ex and their other friend were in the gc. now 3's ex and the other guy start full on bashing me bro like being hella mean. now at this time me and 2 were arguing (again btw) so i didnt really gaf. i ended up leaving the gc bc i was just so upset over everything until MY EX added me bro. oh my god. so i added him back and we started talking. so at this point 2 was gone he blocked me bc i "did something wrong" apparently. and i was like yes now i have my ex back everything will be good. um no so after me and my ex start talking again 2 FUCKING ADDS ME AGAIN. oh my GODDD. it gets so bad bc now AGAIN i started to talk to both of them at the same time (NOT LIKE ACTUALLY TALKING OR WTV) and my feelings started going back to 2. so 2 knew i was talking to 1 but 1 didnt know i was talking to 2. so this was like really really bad. one day i was at school and 1 texts me and is like "yo why are u talking to 2 again i thought u were over with him" after i responded to this me and 1 had the biggest argument ever and he said "its either him or me im not doing this" and i said i was gna block 2 (which i never did and i WISH i did) so since i didnt block him in time 1 ends up unadding me again and i havent talked to him since. rn im kinda still talking w 2 but i FUCKING HATE HIM. like oh MY GODDD. hes so annoying hes literally so sensitive over EVERY little thing. like today he got upset bc i didnt snap him back right away. HELLO. bro i wish i was like born in the dawn of time bro where phone nd shit didnt exist so i wouldnt have to to this stupid streak nonsense. like when people say social media killed romance like it may sound corny but its so fucking true. irrelevant but, i really just want to get rid of 2 and start talking w 1 again. but i think 1 genuinely hates me. look idk what to do but i honestly might just block 2 and not end up talking to 1 bc i think i just need a break from like everything. like boy drama isnt worth it. but please i hope someone reads this so SOMEONE can answer my poll.