Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Growing up as a Black girl,
you never know what the future holds.
You learn fast.
Too fast.
Drugs, alcohol, sex—
before I even knew my times tables,
I knew what the world was about.
The "birds and the bees" talk?
Didn’t need it.
By the time I was born,
I already had four older siblings.
The oldest? grown.
twenty four , twenty five—
a whole life ahead,
while mine was just beginning.
Seven years later—
I’m no longer the youngest.
Now I’m the oldest.
Fourteen years later—
I’m in the middle, but still the oldest.
A split family teaches you choices
you were never supposed to make.
My mother has feelings.
My father has feelings.
My stepmother has feelings.
But what about mine?
How do you think I felt
when I realized I was the crack in their foundation?
That my mother’s pregnancy
shattered my father and stepmother’s family?
That my father had four kids before I even existed?
That his arm carried their names in ink,
but when I asked to be added,
he told me no—because of the “pain.”
Pain?
You wanna talk about pain?
I was cheated on,
manipulated—over and over,
by the same person.
And I let them.
I was dumb.
I almost got into fights
over people I didn’t even want.
Because I was supposed to.
Because I was taught
that disrespect had to be answered.
I hit puberty early, 5th grade.
First time I got catcalled? Eleven.
Let that sink in—
Eleven.
At the store with my older sister,
a grown man called out to us.
She was in her 20s—
but he meant both of us.
My body grew before I was ready,
so men saw a woman where a child stood.
By middle school,
the world was dying from COVID,
but I was already grieving
the childhood I never had.
How many times have I been called beautiful
by someone who shouldn’t even be looking?
How many times have I been told—
"You can’t wear that."
Because my chest was bigger.
Because men were coming over.
Because my mother was afraid.
Not for them.
For me.
Now I’m a freshman,
but people think I’m older.
I’m used to it.
On some level, it’s a compliment—
on every other, it’s not.
It just means I never got time to be a kid.
So yeah—
when I do something that seems childish,
that’s little me fighting to exist.
When I scream over dumb things,
when I get excited like I’m five again—
that’s Nyana.
That’s the kid in me,
the one I refuse to let die.
And when they stare—
I stare back.
Because the version of me you see,
that’s the one you want to box,
the one you want to label.
But I’m so much more than the skin they see,
than the years they’ve added on me.
I'm the kid who never got to be a kid.
They want me to act my age?
What’s my age?
When I’m a reflection of everyone’s expectations
and not my own truth?
I never got the luxury of slowing down,
of making mistakes without the weight of judgment.
Never had the time to just be.
Just to be young.
Just to be free.
And how do you think I feel
growing up in a world
where men have “weird relationships”
with their girl “best friends”?
It’s just weird.
But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
Not when my own father
once said he would "hit"
if his gave him a chance.
I saw my first "film" at seven—
not on purpose,
but because I wanted to be like every other kid.
Wanted to watch YouTube,
wanted to laugh at the same jokes,
wanted to feel like I belonged.
But the things I saw?
They weren’t for me.
Not for a seven-year-old
who still needed to feel safe in their own room.
I didn’t know what to do with what I saw.
Didn’t know how to unsee it.
But I learned,
fast.
Just like I learned in fourth grade
that sleepovers weren’t what they were on TV.
That not every mother is a mother first.
That sometimes, a mother wants to be a friend,
and when that happens,
you become the collateral damage.
She let her daughter do things no child should do,
and I was there,
forced into it,
too young to understand,
too scared to say no.
And when I got in trouble for it,
when I told my mother it wasn’t my fault,
guess who still got in trouble?
Guess who didn’t.

So yeah, when I laugh too loud,
when I hold on to the simple things—
that’s me reaching for the years they took.
I’m reclaiming what’s mine—
the innocence I was denied,
the joy I never got to wear.
And if that makes you uncomfortable,
I don’t care.
Because after all this time,
I owe it to myself to just be.
To be me.

Over the past couple of years, I've been assisting my sister, Emily, with caring for her two young children. This arrangement started during the pandemic when both she and her husband found themselves overwhelmed with managing remote work and looking after their kids. At that time, it felt natural to offer my help without expecting anything in return, considering the circumstances and the family bond we shared.

However, life has since returned to normal, and we're both back to our regular routines with demanding jobs and personal commitments. Despite this change, Emily continues to expect that I would babysit at least once a week, often more. What troubles me is her lack of acknowledgment; there's never any offer of payment, and not even a simple word of appreciation. It seems like she's taken my willingness for granted, assuming I'd always be available.

Last week, I reached my limit and expressed to Emily that I could no longer provide free babysitting services. I explained that if she needed my help, it should be reciprocated either through payment or with gratitude. Her response was far from understanding—she accused me of being selfish and insisted that family should always be ready to help each other without expecting anything back.

I believe in family support, but it feels like I'm being exploited. All I'm asking for is some recognition for my time and effort, or maybe even a break now and then from this commitment. Emily's reaction has been to stop speaking to me, and our parents are pressuring me to apologize just to smooth things over.

Honestly, this whole situation has left me wondering if setting these boundaries makes me unreasonable. It makes me think about how this could play out if it were part of a reality TV show, where family dynamics are on full display. Would viewers sympathize with my need for appreciation, or would they side with Emily, viewing my requests as unnecessary family drama?

I'm curious, what do you think?

For over two years, I meticulously planned my dream Halloween-themed wedding, securing a venue that was highly sought-after and often required long waitlists. As the date approached, a sudden upheaval occurred. My mother and grandmother voiced unsettling concerns, labeling the wedding as "satanic" and demanded sweeping changes at the eleventh hour.

I stood my ground firmly, reminding them that this theme had been known to the family for the entirety of the planning period. Their resistance escalated to the point where my mother's side of the family started a petty rebellion, declaring their intentions to boycott the wedding in what appeared to be a power struggle.

In response, I took decisive action. Anyone who echoed my mother's or grandmother's sentiments or decided to support their boycott was promptly uninvited. This included about 25 relatives, even extending to one of my sisters, who had insinuated withdrawing from her bridesmaid duties. I promptly replaced her.

In the wake of this family drama, I issued "un-invitations" and updated the guest list with new QR codes to ensure only supportive family members and friends could access the venue, effectively securing my wedding day from unwanted drama.

An aunt, who found herself among the uninvited, confronted me. She argued that people are entitled to their opinions and that I shouldn't retract invitations to those who had already made plans to attend. I countered that they had ample time, two years, to voice any disagreements, and backing out six weeks before the wedding was unreasonable. It was a clear message that I would not tolerate bullying or ultimatums regarding my wedding plans.

Imagine if this familial fallout were part of a reality TV show. Viewers would likely be glued to their screens, watching the drama unfold in real time. The divisive family dynamics and the bold moves to protect one’s wedding vision would undoubtedly make for a sensational episode. Opinions might be split, with some viewers cheering for standing up against family pressure, while others might critique the harshness of uninviting family members. The ratings would potentially skyrocket, sparking heated discussions across social media platforms.

I'm a 16-year-old guy living at home with my family, which means I'm no stranger to household chores. However, my real passion is cooking, something I've taken to heart over the past three years. While I originally started cooking just for myself, my love for the kitchen didn't go unnoticed by my family, leading them to tack on the responsibility of preparing meals for everyone to my list of chores. Though it started well, I grew frustrated as my family, including my parents and siblings, began bombarding me with incessant critiques.

Every meal became a barrage of complaints: things were too spicy, or not spicy enough; someone wanted rice, another preferred noodles; requests for less meat, more veggies, then no veggies at all. Constructive criticism was rare, replaced mostly by grumbles and discontent. All these demands wore me down, especially when balancing them with schoolwork; I couldn't feasibly accommodate everyone's whims into one dinner. I once tried to establish a weekly meal plan, but the complaints persisted post-meal, never before.

After discussing my struggles, my mother brushed them off, suggesting this thanklessness was part and parcel of cooking for a family—a sentiment echoed by her own experiences. This wasn't comforting, particularly when my cooking was outright disparaged. Feeling unappreciated, I decided to revert to cooking solely for myself, leading to an uproar at home and accusations of disrespect, which culminated in me being grounded.

Imagine if this situation unfolded on a reality show—cameras capturing every eye roll and unwarranted critique from my family, my growing frustration, and finally my bold decision to just cook for myself. The audience would be on the edge of their seats, likely split between rooting for my independence and critiquing me for not meeting my family's varied tastes.

Is it bad that I stopped cooking for my family?

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...

One of my closest friends, also 27, is tying the knot later this year. She asked me to be her bridesmaid towards the end of the previous year, and I was thrilled to accept, though I did not anticipate the demands that would come with this role.

She scheduled her bachelorette bash over a holiday weekend in Nashville, resulting in higher costs due to surge pricing. Here's a breakdown of the expenses we faced for that event:

- Flight: $500

- Accommodation: $350

- Themed outfits: $100

- Meals and drinks: $200

- Gift for the bride: $50

When I saw these figures, I regretfully informed the bride that I couldn't afford to participate in the bachelorette party. This decision met with some disappointment from her side, but my finances simply didn’t allow for such expenditures.

Now, as the wedding approaches, there’s a new list of expenses each bridesmaid must cover:

- Bridesmaid dress: $180

- Professional hair and makeup: $230

- Professional manicure: $120

- Hotel for the wedding night: $400

- Shoes: $60

- Flight to the wedding venue: $360

With these costs piling up, I find myself at a crossroads. The standards set by my friend seem excessively high. Furthermore, her recent email outlining the costs for our outfits and beauty services carried a tone suggesting we should prioritize her needs, which left me frustrated. I'm torn between feeling like a frugal friend and an exploited one. Additionally, two other bridesmaids have confided in me, expressing their own concerns regarding the expenses.

Honestly, how would this situation play out if it were part of a reality show? Would viewers sympathize with the financial strain we bridesmaids are facing, or would they criticize us for not fully committing to our friend’s special day? It seems as though the drama surrounding this could very well turn into prime reality TV material, sparking debates about the real costs of being a part of a wedding party.

I'm truly uncertain about how to address these mounting concerns without causing a rift. Any advice would certainly be appreciated.

So, here’s the deal. I graduated last year, got my degree, did all the “right” things, and landed what was supposed to be a great job. You know, the kind of job everyone says you should feel lucky to have. But here I am, only six months in, and all I can think is, I want to quit my job.

Honestly, I feel like such a failure for even thinking about it. Everyone was so proud of me when I got this position—my parents, my friends, even my professors. It felt like this huge milestone, like i’d finally “made it.” But the reality? It’s so different from what I thought it’d be.

First off, the job itself is... boring. Like, mind-numbingly boring. All day, I’m just sitting at a desk, staring at spreadsheets, answering emails, and pretending to care about these endless meetings where nothing ever gets decided. I thoughtt I’d be doing something meaningful, or at least interesting, but instead, it feels like I’m just going through the motions.

And the worst part? The people. Everyone’s so serious all the time. No one jokes around or seems to actually like being there. It’s like they’ve all accepted this weird, soul-sucking reality, and I’m the only one who’s questioning it. I try to bring some energy, maybe lighten the mood, but it’s like I’m speaking a different language.

Then there’s my boss. Don’t even get me started. They’re not a bad person, but they micromanage everything. It’s like they don’t trust me to do anything on my own, which is ironic because I was hired for my “initiative” and “problem-solving skills.” I thought this job would give me the freedom to learn and grow, but instead, it feels like I’m being babysat 24/7.

I keep telling myself, “Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I need to adjust or give it more time.” But how much time am I supposed to give before I realize it’s not going to get better? My friends keep telling me I’m lucky to even have a job, especially in this economy, but does that mean I just have to suck it up and stay miserable?

What really gets me is how much this job is affecting the rest of my life. I’m constantly stressed, even on weekends. I’m too drained to hang out with friends or do the things I used to love. I’ve even started dreading Monday mornings before Sunday is even over. It’s like this job is stealing all my energy, and I don’t have anything left for myself.

I know quitting isn’t an easy decision. I’ve got bills to pay, and let’s be real, I don’t have some amazing Plan B waiting in the wings. But the idea of staying here for years, or even just one more year, makes me feel so trapped. Like, is this really what my life is supposed to look like now? Because if it is, I’m not sure I’m okay with that.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m being too idealistic. Maybe this is just what “adulting” is—grinding through a job you hate because that’s what responsible people do. But part of me thinks that can’t be true. There has to be more to life than this, right?

If this was a reality show, I wonder what people would say about me. Would they think I’m just some spoiled millennial who doesn’t know how to work hard? Or would they understand where I’m coming from? Because right now, I feel like I’m the only one questioning if this whole system is even worth it.

I don't know why, but when I travel with my family, my mom is the worst person I could travel with. She wouldn't leave me alone and always stays in my bedroom I share with my other siblings even though she has an even better bedroom. She then just comes in at any time and berates me when I'm just living and using one device. Says I'm addicted, even though she uses her phone to chat with friends for 9 HOURS, a day. And when we are visiting other families she then berates me (again) and compares me to them all the time. She also likes to lie. One time we were travelling and I said I didn't want to go. She said we were going to the zoo and after she just keeps trying to convince me I said yes. But guess what? No zoo. Not at all. It is pointless to try and hope that she will change, because she is never going to change.

My bestfriednd always had bad taste in men, they're ugly with ugly personality, but her boyfriend right now is destroying the last bit of patience I had for her, basically the only good thing about that guy is that he's tall, but he's face heck it could give people nightmare, his personality? Manipulative, arrogant, egoist, narcissist and want to put his schlong everywhere, I tried multiple times to get her to see that he's a bad guy but nooooo "sHe cAn fIx himmmm " she ain't Bob the builder, heck her own life is crumbling apart because of him but she doesn't want to see it and now she doesn't wanna talk to me because "I'm a bad influence in her life...." I helped her study, helped her find a scholarship, taught her how to make a C.V and how to network, but naaaah, i'm the bad influence, i'm tired of acting like her mama and when that guy cheat ( I know he will cause he asked me for spicy picture)I ain't gonna wipe her tears, I will tell her I told you so, if y'all were in my place what would you do?

!vent!(it's kinda long, srryy)

Abt 3 years ago, I transferred schools. The first month was fine, I didn't really have any friends, but that was okay with me because I've always been shy and introverted. But the second month is when things took a turn for the worse. This really popular girl, who I never really paid any attention to, started picking on me for no reason. It's not that serious at first because she's just giving me looks and sneering subtle jabs at me... until she starts calling me slurs, pushing me and hitting me, fat-shaming me, and telling her inner circle of friends or whatever to bully me as well. It reached a climax when she and some of her friends ganged up on me and, uh, beat me. I'm a boy (kind of short for my grade, I'm 5'4, so they were able to get an advantage on me), however, so no one really believed me. Even when I showed the teachers the scratches, cuts, bruises, etc., all they did was email her parents. :/ At this point, I'm depressed (still am) and started not eating because her comments about my weight got to me (still do). I can't tell my parents because they have their own issues with themselves, each other, and at their jobs (we're not in a financially stable position, so I can't really change schools easily). About 5 months in(i think) and I'm at my lowest mentally and sometimes even physically as the popular girl would hit me with a variety of items. That's when he entered my life, he was also new and had moved from California, at first he would sit next to me at lunch and just silently eat next to me, then he would ask to partner up with me in school projects, and eventually we became friends. He would share his lunch with me if I forgot to pack mine or couldn't afford any school lunch, he let me come over to his house and tutor me for hours on his own time, always included (at first) me even when he gained new friends, and we had special nicknames for eachother that only we could use. He also defended me whenever the popular girl tried to bully me and her bullying became much less frequent. I love this guy and was scared to admit this to him because I'm also a guy and wasn't sure if he felt the same. This all changed the second year i think? he started becoming more distant, which was unnoticeable at first but then I spotted him with the popular girl. I felt betrayed because they were sitting next to eachother, at a secluded table, laughing and eating as if he hadn't witnessed her call me terrible names, punch me, and text me awful things. I was so freaking confused and confronted him about it. He shrugged it off and they became closer, and closer, and closer. Until, you guessed it, they announced they were dating. It got worst bc when she picked back up bullying me(sometimes i wonder if its even worse now) he's present for most of it and either stays silent or laughs/chuckles. I don't know what I did wrong. This is pretty much my everyday life now and I hate going back to school everyday. He won't even look at me without showing me the middle finger and laughing at me. I sit alone now and cry pretty much everyday bc I love him and I can't figure out what the fuck I did wrong. I've stopped eating again(sometimes for days at a time), I'm going comatose for most of the day, and my grades are dropping. I just want him back.

I've come to the harsh realization that perhaps, I'm not the nicest person around. In my mid-thirties, I find myself surrounded only by a single friend and a girlfriend, yet I can't shake the feeling that I'm somehow superior to others. My lifestyle is quite reclusive; I shy away from any social gatherings related to work, and most of my routine revolves around my job, hitting the gym, smoking weed, and cycling. Traveling and cycling in the forest are my escapes, the rare times I don't feel swamped by depression.

Interacting with people, especially in groups, is a daunting task for me. The fear of turning red-faced and being judged negatively is always lurking. Thus, I avoid such situations altogether. There's a worrisome intensity in the way I live; I indulge too often in alcohol or getting high, viewing people merely as elements that enhance my own existence. My eyes wander too freely, admiring every attractive woman I come across, often blatantly flirting in the presence of my girlfriend. Even though these thoughts are never vocalized, I often catch myself belittling others or feeling utter disdain towards them internally.

I confess to being a staunch atheist, holding a disdainful view towards those who are spiritually inclined, believing myself to be smarter, better-looking, and stronger. The resentment builds whenever I see someone possessing what I desire, although I manage to keep this anger bottled up within.

Dominating these emotions is a profound sense of isolation, mixed oddly with a perverse comfort in wallowing in my misery. Sometimes, hurting my own feelings seems like a twisted form of pleasure, perhaps because it means feeling something at all.

My family background does little to lighten my outlook. My brother lives with the dark shadow of being a murderer and a former heroin addict. My father was a violent man, devoid of emotions, who ultimately took his own life. My mother, afflicted by illness so severe that she has been bedridden since my childhood, sparks a guilt within me for not taking care of her. However, I've chosen a path of self-preservation as dedicating myself to her care would consume my own existence entirely.

This life I've crafted for myself is one I despise, yet a part of me feels I shouldn't. With a good education, a well-paying job, and an undeniable appeal to women, I should feel fulfilled. Instead, I’m left feeling empty and, frankly, disgusted with myself for sounding like a self-pitying fool. What the hell is wrong with me?

Despite my efforts not to belittle others overtly, the impression that people don’t like me is hard to shake off. Loneliness is a constant companion.

If I were to join a reality show, my character might be polarizing. Would the audience appreciate my brutally honest introspections, or would they be repelled by my self-confessed arrogance and emotional detachment? It's intriguing yet terrifying to ponder how my persona would unfold under the constant scrutiny of cameras and a public audience.

I chose the friendship stories category but yeah it's related to friendship, love, family, work... I am like that.

I had only heard of the “Mommy Wars” but never saw anything nearby. Figured it was dying down. Nope. They are still a thing and always will be despite the whole “women need to support other women” war cry. Be gracious to ALL moms! Working/SAHM, young/older, homeschool/traditional, homestead organic/fast food…Every single one is just trying to survive.

My useless ex girlfriend left me for someone with a dick. Although the relationship ended amicably I feel bitter. I wish I could tear into her in front of everyone we know. I don't because there is a one in a billion chance that she might be useful. Such as pay me back the money I spent on a studio apartment for her.

so, I’ve been trying to wrap my head around this whole freelancing gig combined with building a SaaS platform, right? it’s honestly a mess. I’m 25, and not a developer at all, but here I am, thinking I can just roll up my sleeves, watch a few YouTube videos on how to build software with AI, and magically make it all happen; my girlfriend? yeah, she's not so supportive anymore. when I first told her I was going to dive into this thing, her eyes kinda lit up, but that faded quickly into this cold hard stare like she’s watching a train wreck in slow motion. she keeps saying things like, “you know, not everyone is cut out for this, and maybe you’re just wasting time and money.” and honestly, those words gnaw at me like a constant background static. it's amazing how someone you love can inspire both motivation and doubt at the same time. after binge-watching videos, you’d think I’d be golden; but no, it turns out that coding is like trying to learn a foreign language while climbing a mountain blindfolded! it’s not simple, it’s not intuitive, and sometimes I feel like the more I learn, the less I actually know. I keep telling myself, “there is no try, only do,” but is that even true? with everything from front-end user interfaces that need to look sleek to back-end architecture that needs to be solid, it feels like I’m trying to juggle flaming swords while blindfolded! the other day, I attempted to code this feature that I thought would be revolutionary, right? I’d been watching some tutorial on how to incorporate machine learning to analyze user behavior but when I finally tried to implement it, my code just crapped out on me; I didn’t just get an error, I got an existential crisis wrapped in a tech failure. I mean, seriously, who am I fooling? I’m sitting here staring at this screen like I’ve lost my mind, and the worst part? the more I dive into this, the more I can feel her doubts creeping in and sinking into my brain! it’s relentless! how do I prove to her—or even myself—that I can really make this work? every time I show her a little bit of progress, it’s like I can hear her inner voice saying, “great, another day wasted on a pipe dream.” but you know what? that’s the struggle of the freelancer, isn't it? constantly battling not just market competition but your inner demons and the opinions of those around you! and don’t even get me started on all the self-proclaimed “entrepreneurs” online spinning tales of their immense success one month after they started their business. do you ever wonder if some of them are just pulling a fast one on us? there has to be a good chunk of them who are just as lost as I am, right? sometimes I feel like I'm just another cog in a giant machine that’s destined to break down. I mean, come on! does anyone actually just pick up coding and have instant success? because if that’s the case, then I might need to re-evaluate my life choices! it’s not all sunshine and rainbows; it’s more like being trapped in a perpetual storm cloud that rains down self-doubt instead of water. while I keep pushing through these coding blocks and trying to keep my head above water, every notification I get seems like a reminder of how much further I am from any type of success. have you ever felt that way, where every step forward is accompanied by a hundred steps backward? do you think it’s just a psychological trick that our minds play on us? like the more you succeed, the more brutally aware you become of the uphill battle ahead? I even signed up for a few forums and groups, thinking I’d find solidarity or a little inspiration, but honestly, it seems like it’s just an echo chamber of complaints and failed projects; sure, there are success stories sprinkled in there, but a lot feel like gimmicks, you know? how do some people garner millions in funding while I’m just out here sweating over a simple AI-driven user interface? am I just a fool chasing after shadows, or can I actually turn this around?! sometimes I think I should just toss in the towel and get a 'real' job that pays the bills instead of this stressful rollercoaster ride of tech dreams and failures. it’s exhausting living on this edge of hope and despair every single day while I try to create something out of nothing. so what do I do? do I listen to my girlfriend and consider this a lost cause or do I forge ahead blindly into the chaos of the unknown, clinging to this idea that if I push hard enough, maybe, just maybe, I’ll find something worthwhile on the other side of all this mess?

In my family, ever since my father was young, we've maintained the tradition of holding more formal monthly family dinners. As children, my siblings and I always looked forward to these gatherings, which included our grandparents. When we all grew up, the tradition evolved to involve our spouses and our children, making it a grander and more inclusive affair. By the time I was 19, our family decided to rotate the hosting duties among us each month to share the responsibility more equally.

My wife initially was enthusiastic about joining these dinners. She even took over the cooking duties from me sometime after we started dating because she was keen to contribute. Initially, my family seemed to get along well with her, but I soon noticed a troubling pattern. They were overly critical of her cooking, despite her efforts to please everyone - a sentiment not shared by my two younger siblings. I tried to stand up for her, suggesting they be more appreciative, but their retort was always that she needed to improve her culinary skills. Despite her efforts to make dishes that everyone typically liked, nothing seemed to satisfy them.

A couple of months ago, I concocted a plan to expose their bias. I suggested to my wife that we pretend I was the one who had cooked the meal, just to see their reaction. She reluctantly agreed, suspecting that their issues were more personal than about her cooking skills. As predicted, when they thought I was behind the dishes, they showered praises on the food, noting how refreshing it was to enjoy such well-prepared dishes. My younger siblings knew the truth and found it interesting to watch the scenario unfold. However, when it was revealed that it was actually my wife who had cooked, my family tried awkwardly to retract their compliments, leading to an uncomfortable silence for the rest of the evening. This incident opened my wife’s eyes to the real situation, and I affirmed that her well-being was more important than these family dinners. We agreed to sometimes have meals just with my younger siblings, which was less stressful overall.

After we missed the last two dinners, questions arose from my parents and other siblings. Despite my explanations, they couldn't understand our absence and insisted on our presence. They accused me of overreacting and harming my relationships within the family. They even brought up potential future children, suggesting they would miss out on family traditions. My wife felt guilty about the situation, but I reassured her that it was not her fault.

Am I wrong for prioritizing my wife's dignity over family tradition? How might this situation have played out if it were part of a reality show? Perhaps cameras capturing every reaction and confession might have amplified the drama, leading to a public outcry against my family’s bias or maybe sparking a nationwide discussion on family dynamics and the power struggles within.