Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Me and my boyfriend have been together soon to be two years now. I oftentimes have had to reprimand him about stupid stuff like him being overly kind to women and allowing it to cut into time that me and him spend together, but today I have found a rather compelling... Well... Discovery. So, he's been struggling with finding and keeping work but he always has money somehow. I did some snooping,(I know, I'm sorry) under suspicion that I'd find out maybe he has an alternative way of making money like OF or something but instead... He's been lying to women and "flirting" with them and making false promises to meet up with them, only to take money from them and end up spending it on me. (Gifts, dates, stuff I ask for or sometimes I post on my story.) The money he gets from working with his family, he spends on himself. I don't know what to say or do. As good as our relationship is, I've never expected some shit like this. I don't know. I am at a loss for words. I had to get it off my chest because I knew it'd eat me up knowing all day and not processing it. What the hell do I even do? Where do I start? It's only ever been women that have ignored the fact he tells them he's with me, or women who've been under my comments calling me ugly or fat or some shit. I can't even come up with the words.

Earlier this year, I was confronted with a terminal diagnosis. According to my doctors, my time is limited—possibly just a few years remain for me to address any unresolved issues. With the aid of a dedicated attorney and a social worker specializing in end-of-life care, I've begun laying the groundwork to ensure that my desires are honored smoothly and respectfully when I am no longer able to make decisions.

My family background complicates my situation further. My biological parents were never married and my father passed away from the same ailment I'm battling when I just turned 12. He was unmarried, hence his wealth was secured in a trust, overseen by my grandparents, for my benefit. Later, my mother remarried and I have a half-brother from her second marriage. He faces severe mental challenges—functioning mentally much like a child, despite his adult physique, which places immense stress on my mother and stepfather's already strained finances. They couldn't gain access to my trust funds despite several attempts. At times, I feel more like a backup financial plan to my mother rather than her daughter, leading to a strained relationship filled with passive-aggressiveness from her and my stepfather.

Knowing my days are numbered, I have tried to bridge the gap with my mother, aiming to ease any past grudges while I still can. Since my diagnosis, she has shown genuine concern—possibly sensing the gravity of my condition. In discussing my plans with her, making it clear that I have assigned a relative as my health and financial power of attorney to mitigate her burden, I sensed her relief. However, she hinted at her hopes for my involvement in my half-brother's future care. She expressed desires to allocate any inheritance I leave behind for his continued support, underlining her wish that he recognizes the aid as coming from his big sister.

Despite these conversations, I have chosen not to leave my assets to my mother or half-brother. My life’s joy has been significantly brightened by my best friend’s children, to whom I am an affectionate "auntie." They, along with their parents—who have supported me tirelessly, accompanying me to medical appointments and offering their home when I couldn't be alone—will be the beneficiaries of my estate. My decision is driven by a desire to affect positively the lives that have interwoven so closely with mine, rather than securing a potentially better care arrangement for my half-brother.

Am I being unreasonable in making this choice?

It’s interesting to ponder how this might unfold if my life were part of a reality show. Cameras capturing every nuanced expression as I disclose my decisions to my family. Would the audience sympathize with my wishes, or would they judge me for seeming to neglect my own family in their eyes? The dramatic reveal and the ensuing familial reactions could indeed make for compelling television but might also skew public perception of my choices.

ok not rn but in 2 years :D like everyone’s keep saying the ‘economy so horrible’, ‘no one’s hiring’ bro I don’t want to imagine how it will be in 2 years 😭 well it could be much better? Well like how should I prepare right now to get myself a job when I graduate??

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.

My dad’s 66th birthdayy is tomorrow and my siblings and I (4 total) were planning to go out to dinner with him tonight to celebrate. Growing up, we never went out to restaurant or even got take out. Once we hit our teens we didn’t even eat at the dinner table together or at the same time. Now we’re all grown, with me being the youngest (30) and we’re trying to do things together that we never did such as a family dinner.

My dad is notorious for catching an attitude leading up to a holiday or occasion. I’m talking birthdays, Christmas, ground hogs day, the last day to do taxes. If it’s in a calendar, he automatically catches a mood at least two days prior to the day and holds it.

Somehow I was placed in charge of arranging this dinner and I was told to invite my oldest brother (my mother’s first born) and his wife to the dinner. This was done prior to the attitude. Yesterday, I get the message from my sister that he’s In a mood and going on a mumbling rant about whatever and I would most likely want to cancel dinner. I didn’t, I held out to figure out what was going on.

Now here we are todayy, there’s animosity in the air, he locked up in a room all day not speaking to anyone. So I have to text my oldest brother that we’re cancelling. — But seriously. It’s embarrassing. I don’t want to tell my brother that we can’t have dinner because my dad doesn’t know how to act. Should we have gone without him??

My girlfriend has a wildly diverse taste in music which led to a heated debate last night.

We both share an apartment equipped with a superb sound system in common areas like the kitchen and living room. When I'm in charge of music, I prefer playing a full album to enjoy its continuity.

Contrastingly, my girlfriend loves shuffling through a playlist of her own crafting. Just to give you an idea, last night's sequence was baffling. It kicked off with Garth Brooks' "Friends in Low Places," followed by Rossini's "The Thieving Magpie," then "Pink Rover" by Scene Queen, moving on to "Dangerous" by Cascada, and "Dogma" by KMFDM.

Midway, I suggested maybe sticking to a single playlist or album, or at least something less jarring. She explained it was her custom cleaning playlist, packed with high-energy songs perfect for chores.

I jokingly remarked on the eclectic nature of her choices, which seemed a bit chaotic to me. She defended her selection as personal favorites, energizing and varied. Pressing further for something less intense was met with a reminder that she was cleaning and deserved to choose the music.

I pointed out that it was a tad extreme, but she dismissed my comments, defending her playlist as just her style. The evening went on with another hour of arguably the most bizarre mix of tunes I've ever encountered.

Now I’m thinking, maybe I was harsh? On one hand, the music felt intense for a shared space, but it seems she might have been silently tolerating my musical preferences too without complaint.

Imagine if this was all aired on a reality show, the drama would be quite the highlight, sparking debates and perhaps even comical reactions from the audience. People might take sides or suggest compromise solutions, playing up the tension for entertainment.

I guess I should have been more thoughtful about her music choices?

so uhh, my friend, (we will call her purple) I love her, and I even got matching bracelets for us, which I NEVER do! and guess what? my other friend (we will call him blue) STARTED DATING HER TODAY. I NEVER TOLD ANYONE I LIKE HER, AND GUESS WHAT? THE ONE I LOVE IS TAKEN FROM MY FRIEND, AND I CANT DO ANYTHIGN ABOUT THAT. ISNT IT GREAT? NO, ITS NOT. IT DOESNT FEEL GOOD, AND NOW IM GONNA HAVE TO LIVE THE NEXT YEARS OF SCHOOL LIKE THIS, KNOWING THAT THE ONE I LOVE IS TAKEN BY MY FRIEND. it hurts. it hurts so much. and I cant do anything about that. and if he ever sees or finds out a bout this, well then I'm sorry. I'm just so depressed knowing that she probably didn't even like me, and liked you instead. I know I sound jelous, or however you say it. but I already had a bad mental state, and this just got worse. #deppressionarc!

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

I feel terrified of going outside and being completely judged for it. I don’t like talking, I don’t like expressing myself. I don’t even feel capable of being with a girl. I don’t want to be with one. I feel like I’ve become a mess of ideas—so many ideas. Like I’m shedding layers of myself.

I feel like I’m not okay—but also that I am. I feel like I’ve been in a transformation process for a long time now. Like I’m moving toward my true self, peeling off old layers of experiences. I used to think I had matured, but really, I had just kept layering one cover over another. I don’t know how else to explain it.

It feels like I’ve been unfolding my form. This has been happening for quite some time. I think it’s because I finally feel whole in a new group. Yes, I feel like I belong—with a girl, specifically—and I love that feeling. It’s been going on for a while now, I repeat. She’s not physically present, but the way we are keeps the group alive. I don’t feel the need to be with anyone else. Being distant from her makes me feel her presence even more. I feel like I can be alone—but still in her company—and it’s truly amazing.

My parents didn’t understand this, but personally, I don’t care. The process is happening either way. These are the catharses I’m experiencing. I don’t feel like there’s anyone else out there waiting for me—and I don’t need them. I feel like my life is on track, and I can live the way I like. In this group, I feel that’s respected—and it’s fantastic. I’ve committed to pursuing a career, and I rely only on the approval of the principles this group shares.

Looking back, all that time I supposedly "got sick" or "went through somatic suffering"—I think I was really just trying to re-locate myself within this group and within the system that surrounds us. It’s like saying: I’m done with the old societal structure, with the weight of those layers. Here, in this group, we are free. Again, I don’t feel I need anyone else.

These catharses—what I say—are just to release things. I speak things about myself, but they’re temporary. It’s like I’m passing through them. I think I’m heading toward something, but I realize I only needed to shed that layer—to see that I never really wanted that thing. I don’t know, but I feel like this process I’m going through isn’t something many people experience—maybe no one. It’s about leaving behind all the groups you once belonged to. You feel like you belong to just one now, and all the others are just places you visit occasionally.

I feel like I’ve always been okay. I was never truly unwell. I just needed—without realizing it and even fooling myself—to reposition myself within society. Now I understand all the disappointment I’ve felt. I thought I wanted to be with a girl—and it turns out I don’t. Especially not one outside my group. I feel more distant from her. I don’t know what to do with those feelings I had for her. Whether she’s around or not makes no difference—same goes for her mother.

Life is happening. Nothing feels the same anymore. No one believed me—and I didn’t even need them to. I thought I had forgotten about this group. Maybe I did. But I now realize it was a version of it where she, the girl from my group, was someone who abandoned me and hurt me. And now she’s not. Being in this group makes her devoted and respectful—and I love that. Before, I felt like she was spiraling toward a nightmare that could’ve even ended her life—God forbid—with something as terrible as a knife. I hope I was wrong.

I don’t know what comes next for my life. I’ve never faced something like this. It’s all been about letting myself be carried by the current—and that’s it. Like I entered a kind of crisis only to come out the other side, finally shining. I don’t know if I wish things had been different. Probably not. I feel like I’m in a much better place now, where I’m allowed to bloom on my own terms. I didn’t feel that before. This group is about feelings, not about upholding painful old paradigms—a bitter photo album that, in my opinion, is always ugly.

It’s amazing how that other girl—the different one—has become almost a ghost to me. Hearing her mother’s distant voice, feeling how, as I got closer to them, they faded further away… it was indescribable. Psychologically, despite the distance, I feel closer to the girl in my group. And I think that’s the whole point. Because with her, I sense a real structure—something genuine. Not like in my family, where all they focused on was finding flaws. That was bitter through and through.

I feel like I’m in paradise—even though I’m still in the same house, in the same place. The people around me might be nearby physically, but they can’t really reach me. I’m a stranger to them now. Just like she, the girl in my group, is a stranger to her environment. In fact, she was already acting that way the last time I saw her in person. It’s clear now: her spirit was already with me—expressed in the way I feel so deeply supported by her.

so there is this guy i like named ryklin. we r both in 7th grade and both 13. but i just found out today that he likes somone els and now i am really really really reallyyyyyyyy saddddddddd!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I don’t want to need people. I don’t want to want people. I don’t want to care about people. Like these couple of months (and can even say years) ive have really tried looking for someone , someone really close to like a best friend if someone would say. I feel like that’s what made me really sad like in movies it’s always ‘I will always have that one person’ like bro why can’t it be more idolized that people don’t have anyone, they have themselves ABD are still happy. I’m not tryna be depressed on this whole ‘self-isolation’ thing but it’s really not guaranteed that you’d ever find someone. Like I want to learn about be COMPLETELY happy alone. Like genuinely have tried making friends but NO everyone has their person. This doesn’t help that the shows I grew up with always revolve around friends and ‘best friends’ . And ik all that stuff about ‘humans are social creatures’ shut up .

Just trying to find someone leads me to disappointment and it just hurts tryna find my person. Wish I have the mentality of not needing anyone this week did somehow start like that. But a fight happened in school and I just taught of how nice it would have been to have friends to talk about it. Like so a lot of my plans have actually tried to make me cope with this by tryna find someone that also relates to my situation. But idek

Well I think that’s it?

Hopefully no one’s gonna be like ‘don’t worry you will find your person’ ‘it will be worth the wait when you get them’ ‘it’s hard having no friends’

Sorry in advance for my bad English

People often told me that they wished they had my parents because im allowed to do so much stuff but in reality, im not that happy with my family at all. If I were to make a top ten of things that make me happy, my family would be at the bottom.

Sure, they buy me stuff, are kind of supportive in my choices but I don’t feel safe or comfortable enough to be myself. I hide clothes I know they’ll judge me on, don’t show them the stuff I make or things I’m passionate about because i know they’ll laugh at me or judge me for it.

For example, I recently went to a concert and had a very beautiful outfit. I was too scared to show them so I didn’t until he got home from the concert and their reaction was just like expected. They told me it was lame, that I looked ridiculous while all I wore was a dress with some tights and a headband. I didn’t get it. I missed the fun I had at the concert and my friends and it instantly ruined my mood. I cried after that.

At school, I can be myself. I show my friends all I’m passionate about and I don’t feel pressured to hide things. My teachers are very nice, I tell them a lot too but when I get home, I want to go away again. I didn’t wish I lived another life, I just wished I had another family.

And please don’t tell me that they’re just trying.. that parents get tired too or get angry sometimes too because it’s not sometimes it’s everyday and it makes me tired and sad. I don’t remember a day where I felt genuinely happy to be home.

My partner and I have been on and off for 4 years now. I have a lot of self-esteem issues and issues with mental health like, anxiety and depression. I tried to be honest and tell them that I'm not ready for a relationship as I'm not in the heads pace to ne good to myself or them, but they don't accept the breakup and we end up getting back together. It seems no matter what I say or do we end up back together for a bit until again I feel insecure and ready to end things. We live in the same small town and they are really close to my family. We share bills, but don't live together. I don't have a high paying job and can't afford a

it’s been three months since she told me it was over, and I honestly thought I would be better by now. you know, like the typical advice you see everywhere? “time heals all wounds” and “you’ll find someone better”? I guess I've just come to terms with the fact that those phrases are easier said than lived. every day feels like I’m dragging a heavy anchor, and my mind constantly races back to the moments we shared. I can still picture her laughter, her smile, and the way she used to play with her hair while deep in thought. I often wonder if that’s just how life goes, one minute you're on top of the world and the next you’re stuck reminiscing about how things used to be. I’ve tried to distract myself with friends or hobbies, but it’s like there’s this invisible wall that keeps me from truly engaging; some people say that it’s all about perspective while others might argue it's more about acceptance, but I’m stuck somewhere in the middle, caught in a labyrinth of my own emotions.

as I navigate through this post-breakup haze, I’ve read a lot about the psychological phenomena related to breakups—terms like the ‘attachment theory’ and ‘emotional dependency’ come to mind. they make sense in a clinical way, but experiencing them firsthand is a different beast altogether. I mean, how does someone just move on as if nothing happened? it’s as though they possess an emotional GPS that guides them toward greener pastures while I'm still in this perpetual state of searching for a signal. some days, my phone buzzes with messages from friends suggesting new activities or meetups, but I find myself declining more often than not—it's like I'm afraid that any bit of joy I could feel would pale in comparison to the happiness we once had, which is a weird kind of self-sabotage. I often find myself analyzing my past interactions, wondering if it was something I said or did that spiraled us into this situation—was I too clingy, too distant, or did I just not pick up on the subtle signs of her impending discontent?

I’m here questioning the timeline of recovery for breakups, and how long does it actually take to get over someone? I wish I had a definitive answer rather than these endless Google searches leading nowhere. some say it takes the same time as the relationship lasted, while others suggest that it’s all individual; but I have to admit, still feeling heartache after three months feels like I’m lagging behind in a race where everyone else has already crossed the finish line. there are moments I catch myself daydreaming about what could have been, or I find myself scrolling through old pictures of us smiling, but instead of fueling healing, they only deepen my sorrow. maybe I’m just a romantic at heart or maybe I’ve built an idealized version of what we had, but the reality is, I'm struggling. I’ve learned that time does play a critical role in healing, yet it’s also about self-acceptance and allowing yourself to feel all the emotions that come with loss. sometimes I find solace in journaling my thoughts, like I'm laying the baggage down little by little. any tips on how to let go would be appreciated; even a friendly reminder to keep pushing forward would go a long way. 🥺

My stepdaughter, who's in high school, has a lifelong friend whose birthday celebrations in December have become a tradition for us. Together with my wife, we have two children, and we always make it a point to attend this annual party. This particular year, as my own family planned a significant holiday abroad over Christmas, we coordinated with her friend's mom to ensure the celebration wouldn't be missed, scheduling our departure two days post the event.

However, just this Monday, my stepdaughter returned home with news that the birthday was rescheduled to accommodate other relatives flying in, unfortunately well past our planned departure. Here's where the dilemma intensifies — first, altering our travel plans would be costly, doubling our expenses. Second, it clashes with my work-approved leave, which means cutting our two-week trip to just a week. Third, this trip is my rare chance to reunite with siblings I only see once a year during the holidays. Lastly, we had already aligned our vacation months in advance around the original party date.

Initially, I proposed asking her friend's parents to revert to the initial date, considering our arrangements. My wife didn't agree with that. My second idea was to modify only my stepdaughter's flight since she could travel independently; my wife also disagreed due to her close ties with the other mom and her personal desire to attend. Her solution was simple yet impractical for me — delay our entire family's travel. This suggestion only led to an escalating series of arguments throughout the week.

Last night, the standoff reached a peak when my wife insisted we prioritize the party, opposite to my plan of sticking to our original travel schedule with or without her. The argument spiraled to a point where my stepdaughter labeled me unreasonable, and in my frustration, I suggested grounding her, though my wife opposed, stating our daughter's reaction was warranted. Now, everything's just a huge, tangled mess.

Imagine how people would react if our family drama was part of a reality TV show. Viewers would probably be on the edge of their seats, either criticizing my rigid stance or empathizing with the tough spot we're all in. The drama, the heated exchanges, and the stark decisions could really stir up the audience engagement, making it an episode not to miss.

How are you today? Did you think about me today or no? 5 days ago I received a reply to the anon post I posted few 2 years back.wtf. what is happening and I just read about it yesterday. What are you doing? Tell me? What do u want? You just keep on replying to my post that I idid years before but you never message me wth