Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Everyone is so mean to me, like really mean!!!! I do not even understand what the hell is going on anymore?? I'm 19 and I go to uni like everyone else, I’m studying communications and marketing which is supposed to be all about people and connection and empathy and whatever, but none of these girls in my program act like they’ve even seen a human being before!!! They literally look at me like I’m dirt on their shoes, and I swear it’s just cause I’m hot. I look older than them, maybe mid-20s or something, I’ve been told that a million times at parties or events, and somehow that’s enough for these girls to start whispering and side-eyeing me??? I walk into a seminar room and it's dead silence. Dead. Like did I say something to them??? No. Never. I'm polite, I say hi, I try to make convo, but no. They just act cold as ice like I'm some alien with a disease. It's so pathetic honestly.

And yes, I have an OnlyFans, so what???? What’s the issue???? I make real money. Like more than enough to cover rent, tuition, food, and still have nice things. My content is nothing extreme, nothing illegal, nothing wild — it’s art, okay?? High-quality photography, consistent brand aesthetic, SEO optimization, smart pricing tiers, premium subscriber rewards — it’s literally textbook content marketing but with my face and body, so of course it works. But these girls act like I committed murder!!! I heard one of them saying "at least I’m not selling myself online" like?? Babe, I’m not selling myself. I’m selling a lifestyle, a vibe, a curated digital persona that pays for my goddamn bills while you’re still begging your dad to Venmo you 20 bucks for takeout. Grow up. Stop acting like I’m some kind of danger to the institution of higher education or whatever. You're just bitter.

It’s been like this since the second week of semester. First week they were fake-nice, you know? Those little “omg we should study together!” type lies. Then they all slowly ghosted me. I had one girl literally leave a group project and switch teams just cause she “didn’t feel comfortable.” Like be real, what part of me is uncomfortable??? Is it the fact I have better makeup? Is it cause I know how to dress well for my body type and don’t show up in wrinkled leggings and knock-off Crocs?? Or is it cause guys on campus actually talk to me, and it bothers you that I don’t even chase them? They come to me. They ask ME for notes. They offer ME rides. Maybe focus on why you hate yourself so much that you think someone else’s success is a personal attack. Like what even is the psychology behind that????

But whatever. I’m not gonna lie and say it doesn’t hurt — it really freaking does. I go home some days and just cry, cause it’s lonely out here when you’re actually doing well for yourself and no one claps for you. Like damn, I’m 19, I’m running a profitable content platform with solid monthly growth, I ace my presentations, and I still get treated like trash by basic girls who can't even spell "algorithm." 😤 But I’m not gonna stop. No way. I love how I look, I love making money, and I love the future I’m building. If you hate me for that, that says way more about you than it ever will about me. Maybe one day they’ll grow up and realize the world isn’t high school anymore. Until then, I’ll be doing me — and maybe that’s enough. Or maybe not???

My father and his new wife, both having lost their previous spouses, found solace in each other's company when I and my soon-to-be stepsister were just about five years old. They met through a support group for widowed parents, or at least, that's what they've always claimed. I've always had a sneaking suspicion that their romantic involvement kicked off far sooner than they're willing to admit, possibly because they're uncomfortable with the idea of having moved on so quickly given the circumstances and having young kids involved.

Life for us kids morphed into a mesh of shared outings and sleepovers, blending our families even before we truly recognized what was happening. My stepsister, Katie, was a particularly reserved child, hypersensitive to any form of critique and exceedingly shy. I found myself almost forced into the role of her protector and confidante, responsibilities that felt cumbersome even at a young age. When our parents finally revealed they were indeed a couple, my frustration only deepened as I realized Katie and I were indefinitely bound beyond mere friendship.

Katie clung to me incessantly in school, trailing my footsteps which only amplified my resentment. My father’s idea of us blossoming into sisters seemed more a figment of his desires than a feasible reality. Despite his insistence, my protests about needing personal space and time with other friends fell on seemingly deaf ears.

The arrival of our half-siblings only intensified the household dynamics. While I adored them, it was obvious my affection wasn’t mirrored towards Katie, which didn't go unnoticed by my stepmother. Accusations of favoritism and causing discord amongst the siblings were hurled at me, even though Katie's own aloofness contributed to her isolation. Efforts to integrate her more into our lives through family therapy were short-lived, mainly because the sessions didn't align with what my parents hoped to achieve.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was their plan for Katie and me to embark on our college journeys together. Desperate to maintain my autonomy, I secretly coordinated with my grandfather to escape this overbearing setup. This June, I moved in with him, opting for a local community college instead, much to my parents' dismay upon discovery. The backlash was severe – accusations of deceit and selfishness were rampant.

If my life were part of a reality show, I imagine viewers might be fiercely divided. Some would likely celebrate my quest for independence, while others might criticize it as selfish and rash. It would certainly stir up plenty of debates on family dynamics and individuality versus family obligations.

Am I wrong for wanting to pursue my own path? Was it right for me to move out and avoid attending college with my stepsister?

Confession

So, I want to start by saying this is 100% a real experience I’m going through. And although it is s*xual in nature it is NOT just some s*xual post by someone trying to get off through the comments. Anyways. 3 years ago my fiancé passed away suddenly after being with each other since we were teenagers. She was 26. We had the most connected and comfortable s*xual relationship that it’s humanly possible. We knew what each other wanted, we were comfortable exploring any and everything DEEP in our minds, no matter how “weird” it got. It was incredible. And not to mention she was BEAUTIFUL. And I know every man says that about their partner but it’s different when they actually are attractive on a level where they could have ANYONE they want. She was mixed. Light skin. 5’5 145 lbs with curves everywhere. Just perfect. Anyways, since her passing. It has been hell for me emotional but also sexually. Just how connected we were with it in general makes me think it’ll never happen again. That I’ll never be as attracted or mentally-s*xual able to explore anyone’s mind like hers again. Moving on, after so long with not only missing her touch, but a females presence or touch at all, it’s been brutal. And I’m a pretty good looking guy. 6’5 230 lbs. Long hair. And I’m not bragging I’m just saying, this isn’t a case of a guy who just can’t attract women. Never had a problem. Moving on. Pleasuring myself has even been difficult do to me thinking of her and even using p*rn is hard to do because we use to watch it together and very shortly after trying to take care of my natural urges, I slowing lose the RISE and ability to finish due to the thoughts. And do to that, its been over 2 years since I have “released”by taking care of it myself. Still I have very sexual dreams. To the point I wake up VERY…uncontrollably throbbing, only to have the same outcome of thinking of her and losing the ability. It’s been torture. I know that a females touch and help would probably fix this over time, but the women I HAVE connected with and hung out with just weren’t the same and it quickly ended due to me just not feeling it. So here’s where it gets kind of “weird” but it’s just truth and I have to get SOMEBODY to hear me even if it’s anonymous. So it’s been 3 years and over 2 years since I’ve had any relief at all. Recently, I’ve been having dreams OF ME DREAMING, waking up hard, and my mom coming in to help me, tells me to close my eyes and just think of it as a mother helping her son. No different than helping her son get dressed or feeding your child as a mother when young. And usually not long after, I wake up and think to myself, OMG how weird and usually my hardness fades away quick and I try and erase it from my mind. But it’s been happening almost EVERY NIGHT now, after increasing more and more. The only difference is, now, I find myself actually thinking about how it would feel, and while it not being anything about actual sex, or being exactly like it was with my fiancé, but maybe it’s just the “being taken care of, and the nurturing part of it, that is making me actually think of acting upon it. And my mom was a cheerleader. Very beautiful even now in her late 40s. She and my dad divorced when I was really young. And I know what you’re thinking. This is probably some fetish post or something but it’s genuinely not. This IS REAL. So, moving on. My last dream, I remembered something my mom said to me some time ago, when I fell asleep on the couch at her house (the one I grew up in) and evidently had a huge bulge in my pants while sleeping. She woke me up to tell me and I was super embarrassed, and she said “it’s fine, hun! Nothing I haven’t seen before. You use to get like that even when you were little you were like that all the time” and while I know she wasn’t talking about touching me. It just made me think. How would I actually go about even coming close to getting on this subject with her and telling her about the hell im going through with all this sexual tension and not just wanting to hire some hooker or something to do it. And I thought to myself. What it, when my mom texts me (usually every day or two) and asks me how I’m doing. What if I tell her the truth about what’s going on with my waking up throbbing and all the tension. Literally bothering my life. Just to see what she would say? Maybe she’d say “well why don’t you take care of that” just being funny or something, which could open the door for me to explain to her how I can’t because of the immediate thought of my late fiancé, and how the thought of doing it myself, and not her helping me, immediately stops my ability to do it. Ya know JUST to see what she would say. This is all new to me and again, I’m not some weirdo that is just having a taboo fantasy. And I’m IN NO WAY insinuating ACTUAL S*X with her. This is just something I’m legitimately dealing with. What should I do? It’s getting EXCRUCIATING and I can’t stop thinking about it. God the relief I would feel if I could just ACTUALLY have this happen and feel nurturing love again, someone genuinely wanting me to have relief, making it happen, for ME, again. Even if it’s like this. Thanks for listening.

As a 16-year-old keen on expanding my collection of gaming merchandise, I sought recommendations and was directed to an acquaintance, whom we'll refer to as M. After some discussion, we decided I'd pay in bi-weekly installments, or even sooner if possible. Over a few days, our conversations deepened to personal life and health issues. M shared similar past experiences, which built some trust.

I proceeded with the first payment via a gift card, which M claimed was unusable as it had been redeemed. Confused, I checked with customer support who confirmed its redemption. Believing M’s claim and supporting screenshots, I reluctantly sent an additional $25 provided by my partner. Following this, M ceased communication until a brief and unsettling response the following evening. Frustrated, I confronted them harshly and blocked them. My partner and another friend tried to mediate, only to discover M, who was actually 12, admitted to wrongly keeping the money but had already spent it. M's apology, coerced by my friend, felt hollow since I was left without recourse.

Consulting my partner's aunt, a trip to small claims court seemed viable. I informed M of my intent to pursue legal action and to involve the police. My decision has since isolated me from the friend who initially recommended M, leaving me to question if my response was too severe for a minor over a partially self-inflicted loss.

Imagine the drama if this was all unfolding on a reality show! The cameras capturing every furious message exchange, the tense meetings with friends and family deliberating the next step, and that climactic moment of deciding to take legal action—all peppered with suspenseful music and close-ups. Viewers would likely be on the edge of their seats, debating my choices and the moral dilemma of pursuing justice against a minor.

I might be asking myself: Am I overreacting to a childish mistake?

so i had a best friend, shes wonderful. but her BF broke up with her. after about a month she confessed to me and like all my previous relationships, to not hurt her (and because I love her, don't take it outta context!!!!), I say yes. half of the time when my gf talks to me its like either funny memes, relationship posts, or talking about mental health or just ranting about someone we hate. i want her in my life, shes amazing. i love her so much. but, I don't really understand love as a whole. but talking to me about mental health made me think of things that happened to me in the past, and I realized I don't know what I'm doing AT ALL. most of my personality is just other people and characters from fandoms and stuff, its almost pathetic. i never had a good romantic relationship growing up, my parents got divorced this October anyway, its hard, I love my GF, but I just cant figure out which feeling love IS. can someone help me? its just so confusing. i don't know my own personality or what love is as a whole, even though I have a girlfriend. i just need some advice

I don't know where else to vent, I feel like I've unloaded enough on a friend of mine and don't want to burden him any longer so...

My Grandma passed away not too long ago and there's some drama going on about the will. Apparently, some aunts and uncles have been manipulating Grandma to give them more things or be given things that other people have taken better care of. Like my cousin wanted to buy Grandma's house after she was moved out of it and she was willing to sell. But then some aunts got in her ear and made her make my cousin pay more for the house. One of the aunts said I would be named in the inheritance, my Mom thinks it's because Dad died and his portion would be split with his kids. She told me not to sign off on anything.

Then again I've heard her non-stop complaining about everything about Dad's side of the family which increased after he died. Pretty much have been discouraged from talking to anyone other than a select few she likes. Part of me understands considering some drama but also feel like she doesn't have the best judgement. She tends to talk down to me even though I'm an adult now and constantly calls me wet behind the ears even when I express interest in going outside my comfort zone and doing new experiences to be not so wet. But of course, she's the Mom and I'm the child so in her opinion she seems to know everything and she's always right, and I'm always wrong. When she asked for my credit card password and I said no she was all "Thank you for trusting me." But who in their right mind would share their credit card password with anyone? Who knows where that info will end up? Then there was the time in high school when I started having a tough time and asked if I could go to the doctor's to see if I had depression. But of course, she said no, I didn't have depression because I didn't act like she did when she had depression. Later I would get so nervous about school that I would get physically ill and I eventually called the doctor myself. And what do you know, I was prescribed anti-depressants. Recently, I was diagnosed with blood clots in my lungs but before that, I had a really bad cold that even took away my voice for a bit. But one night it got so bad I couldn't sleep and my chest was in serious pain. I had a bad feeling so I called 811, they suggested I get Mom to take me to a hospital. I tried to get her to but she refused, insisting it wasn't that serious. But it didn't get better and after half an hour I called a cab to take me to the hospital. There I was diagnosed with pneumonia and stayed there for just over a week, even spent two days in the ICU. When Mom finally came she was all apologetic but when I was checked out I learned she told relatives and friends the reason she didn't take me was because I wasn't clear enough. Even though both the 811 operator and cab driver saw it was urgent and that I was having trouble breathing. It was clear enough for them but not for her?

I believe she thinks I'm a goddamn idiot and so naive I need to have my hand held for every goddamn thing. If I could move out and cut out most people from the family I could but apparently I was hit with anti-employer spray because I can't get a job in my field to save my life. I feel useless but also feel like I could snap at any second. When I tell Mom how I feel, she turns it around and says it's my own fault for feeling that way. When I tell my siblings they either go on about how both sides are to blame or take Mom's side. The same Mom that screamed at them for other things, including one where she threatened to disinherit one of them from Dad's will for not doing what she wants. Granted it involved staying with a not-so-great romantic partner but her having a fucking meltdown only pushed that sibling further into the arms of the fucking creep so it took longer for my sibling to finally break it off with that jerk.

I do have a therapist that I talk to but he's not cheap and I leave still feeling furious. He does give good advice but I never feel myself in the right headspace to act on said advice.

It feels like I'm in a fucking soap opera only the people around me seem to think I'm oblivious to the whole shitshow. It feels like I'm one bad day away from exploding and I don't know how to defuse this timebomb.

I always thought the hardest part of my journey was behind me. All those late-night study sessions, the coffee-fueled exams, the internships, the pressure to graduate with honors—I thought once I stepped into the "real world," everything would finally make sense. But here I am, a year into my first real job, and I've never felt more lost or unmotivated in my entire life.

Back in college, I was the person everyone pointed to as the success story. The one professors used as an example, the one my friends admired. I thrived on deadlines, feedback, and clear expectations. Everything was structured, and I knew exactly how to succeed. Now, I sit at my desk, staring blankly at my laptop, wondering if this is really all there is.

When I landed this job, I was over the moon. Everyone congratulated me, told me how proud they were. I believed this would be the beginning of something amazing—a chance to finally prove myself. But the reality has been crushingly different. My work feels meaningless, just endless emails, pointless meetings, and tasks that seem disconnected from any bigger purpose. I spend most days feeling invisible, like just another cog in a machine no one cares about.

I don't think I'm lazy, or at least I never used to be. But lately, it's like all my drive just disappeared overnight. Getting out of bed feels impossible some mornings. I used to wake up excited about the day ahead, ready to tackle challenges and prove myself. Now, I hit snooze repeatedly, dreading the moment I have to log in and pretend to be engaged in work that doesn't excite me at all.

I've tried talking to friends and family about this, but most of them say things like, "Welcome to adult life," or "Everyone hates their first job." But is it really supposed to feel this empty? Is this what I've worked so hard for, just to feel drained and purposless every day?

I keep wondering if maybe I chose the wrong career, or if I was naive to believe I'd find fulfillment right away. The scary part is, I don't even know what else I would do. I've spent my entire life on this path, convinced it was the right one. And now I'm terrified that I'll always feel this way, stuck in a cycle of dread, disappointment, and total lack of motivation.

I wish I knew how to fix this, how to regain the passion and confidence I once had. Maybe it's just a phase, or maybe I need a change. All I know is that this feeling—this heavy, numb sense of "what's the point?"—isn't how I want to spend the rest of my career. I just wish someone would tell me how to get my spark back. Until then, I'm just here, drifting through days, wondering how someone who once felt unstoppable now feels so utterly unmotivated.

Everytime I relapse I feel like the most pathetic and stupid person in this world

not my typical post this is a horror but no option for horror

this is chapwr one lmk what u guys think

Chapter One — The Hollow Tree

I ran but she caught me when the moon slipped behind the clouds and the world went silent.

Her grip closed around my ankle with a strength that belonged to graves and forgotten things. I fell hard, the breath knocked from my lungs, my palms sinking into the cold mulch of the forest floor. Dead leaves clung to my skin like the hands of the unburied, and for one hopeless moment I imagined that I, too, was sinking—downward—into the dark earth they all returned to.

A low hum trembled through the soil. A voice without words. A summons.

I twisted to look behind me.

I should not have.

She emerged from the dark like a memory that should have died centuries ago—long limbs bending in wrong directions, bones clicking against each other like rosary beads in restless hands. Her hair, long and dripping, veiled most of her face, though the smallest sliver of a grin stretched beneath it, white as moonlit marble and sharp as split stone.

The forest held its breath.

Even the wind dared not speak.

“Please,” I whispered, though my voice felt like it belonged to someone already fading.

Her head tilted. Not with mercy—no creature of mercy would be found in this place—but with recognition. As though she had been waiting, patient and starving, for the moment I would return.

The stories had warned me. My grandmother’s voice echoed, faint and trembling, from the deepest corners of childhood: Do not run from the Hollow Woman. She will come faster. Do not speak to her. She will hear you for a century. Do not look back. She is always closer than you think.

Yet I had done all three.

Her fingers tightened, cold as river stones, and she dragged me across the earth toward the hollow tree ahead—a towering corpse of a once-mighty oak, its trunk split open by some ancient and merciless storm. The gap gaped like a mouth, the inside impossibly dark, impossibly deep, as though it tunneled straight into the underworld.

The closer we drew, the more the forest changed. The trees bowed inward, crooked like mourners at a funeral. A smell seeped from the hollow—wet soil, rotting bark, and beneath it something sweet, like overripe fruit left too long in the sun.

“No,” I gasped, clawing at the ground. My nails scraped through moss and root, catching on stones slick with dew. My body obeyed terror’s instinct, but my mind was trapped in the slow, creeping dread that had haunted me since I first heard her voice two nights ago.

It had come with the storm.

I had been lying in my grandmother’s abandoned house—our ancestral ruin—when the lightning split the sky and the walls groaned like a living thing. A whisper curled through the cracks in the floorboards, thin as winter breath: Come back to me.

I thought it was grief. Or loneliness. Or the house settling around its last inhabitant.

But then the whisper came again.

And again.

And last night, when the moon was whole and bright, I saw her standing beneath the oak tree at the edge of the forest, her shadow stretching longer than her body should allow.

She had been waiting.

“Not yet,” I murmured, desperate, choking on soil as I fought against her grasp. “Please—not yet.”

For the first time, she paused.

Her grip, though unyielding, stilled. Slowly, achingly slowly, her face lifted, and beneath the curtain of her tangled hair I saw the hollow where her eyes should have been—deep, shadowed pits that seemed to draw in the light around them.

When she spoke, it was not with a voice but with a sound like roots cracking beneath frozen ground.

“You left me.”

My heart stuttered. A coldness spread through my chest, not the fear she inflicted but something older, deeper, something that knew her.

Because I had left her.

I didn’t understand why or how—but the moment she spoke, the truth whispered beneath my memory like something long buried scratching at the coffin lid.

“I don’t remember,” I whispered, and my own words tasted wrong, as if they were stolen from someone else’s mouth.

She dragged me another inch toward the hollow tree.

The moon finally slipped from behind the clouds then, its pale, shivering light spilling across us. For a moment—just a moment—she stopped moving. Her body stiffened. Her smile dropped into a grim line carved of stone.

The moonlight touched her skin, and she recoiled as though burned.

I felt her grip loosen.

Only a little.

Only enough.

With a cry torn raw from my throat, I twisted sharply, kicking with all the panic of a creature half-dead and unwilling to finish the job. My heel struck something soft—her face, perhaps—and her grip faltered.

I scrambled backward, breath ragged, legs shaking so violently they barely obeyed me. She hissed, a sound like a dying wind through hollow places.

But she did not lunge.

She watched.

The moonlight kept her rooted.

I staggered to my feet. Pain lanced up my knee. Blood soaked into my sock. Yet I ran—not with hope, but with the terror of someone who knows the night is far from over.

Behind me, her voice seeped through the trees like mist:

“When the moon dies, you are mine again.”

And above the forest canopy, the clouds thickened—slowly smothering the light that protected me.

so I'm bisexual and have been for a bit and last year I made friends with people and I really liked them and we got along well kinda I never really talked and was always left out but after a while around January of 2024 I found out they were calling me a F@ggot and a queer and I was forcing them to be my friend and I was weird and it took a toll on my already bad mental health and I stopped talking to them but then they acted like they have never met me and they didn't sh!t talk me

I've been dying to write a singer-songwriter style song for a LONG time now

so here we go

I only have a chorus

here it is:

you say, you say,

"Everything's gonna be

okay okay"

Like you've done this before

But you ain't done this before

So don't say, don't say,

Cause nothing will be

okay, okay

Cause you ain't done this before

And I ain't done this before

And I also want there to be a part that goes:

And now I long to see

What do you still see in me?

But I'm struggling with the verses

so If I get something good I'll post it here bc my IRL friends are tried of hearing me yap abt my songs-

Its about my boyfriend. I dont want to talk bad about them because they're dealing with some stuff mentally and emotionally, mostly anxious problems. But I just hate hate it when I spend an hour waiting for him. I would be ok if the cafe was a one off thing but no. We've had multiple dates where I waited for him for an hour or almost an hour. Its not like I go on time sometimes, even I am late on the agreed time, mostly 5-10 minutes late because I really dont like making people wait for me. but when I get there he isn't there yet.

Its just... Once I managed to wait an hour on the mall we agreed to go to, walk all the way to his home, its quite close maybe 10-15 minutes with the pace I was going, and wait for more time before I even saw him get out of his house hair wet from shower. I understand he also has chores but that was just ridiculous.

But since my parents dont really know about us.. I always had to be creative and set time that wont be too late or too early, reasoning it as me needing to buy something for school, so the time is even more needed to be followed if you get me. His parents also dont know so we usually agree on a set time the day before. Rarely we agree on hanging out on the same day but when we do ita usually atleast 3hrs before..

But really I should've known better after dating him for almost 3 years now. He's the type to be late even on our own graduation, he barely made it with his mom before his name was called.

What's more upsetting about the cafe this is that its currently summer, that means I don't even have that much excuses to go out because I dont have projects to buy supplies for or no study groups to go to. We had a meeting for our school's journalism club for some reason which was, although cancelled, was a good excuse to leave the house.

I just feel like I should be more understanding but it's really upsetting checking my phone every five minutes for a text that says he'd be late or something. Sometimes I even get worried he wont show up at all.

I recently met a guy and got along with him quickly. He is the shy type of guy, who won't send many friend requests to people (he had 9 friends in his friend list in a game) and that didn't really have a real girlfriend. We used to be on call alone with him showing to me his favourite game, Warframe, until I decided to play it (not just because of him, but because I kinda liked the game itself too) and I made a group to play it with him, his friend (who I got along with quickly), a close friend of mine and another friend of mine. For more context, friend 1 has autism and has a lot of mental health issues so I don't want to charge him with more problems to endure because I don't want him to think that another group of friends is going to fall (specially when he is already passing through a hard streak in his life), and friend 2 is the one who I spill all the tea together always, both of us do and we spent a lot of time together.

It wasn't a secret that we both liked each other, but I had some strict limits that I told him, the one in question is that I despise games like Wuwa (hypersexualized type games) and that I wouldn't by any chance date a man that plays those kind of games. As you may have guessed, he plays them. Yesterday they confessed their feelings to me, asked me out, and I told them that if they asked me in person (since we already have plans for them to come soon), I would definitely say yes, that it would be more special that way.

Yesterday we didn't talk much because I wasn't in the best mood, so I went to bed early, and that was it. We said goodnight to each other with the same affectionate way as always (although without chatting for hours over messages like we used to) and that was it. Today, as soon as we woke up, we said good morning to each other as always and that was it. Without saying anything in the group beforehand, he called and his friend answered (so I guess they talked in private about doing it and that was it), and since I told him I was bored, he said I could join (although to be honest, it bothered me a little that he didn't have the courtesy to ask if I wanted to talk to him alone first or tell me to be alone later like we used to, but whatever). Even so, in the middle of the afternoon he sent me a screenshot of that game because of some event they added, to which I responded with an 'ew.' He replied with a sad gif, and I said 'gooner game,' to which he responded again with a sad gif. Then, I said, 'if you already know my opinion about that game and its players, why are you sending it to me?' with a funny gif to lighten the mood, and boom, since then, 6 hours without any response, and it's been 4 hours since he got on to play in a group call.

In fact, while I was finishing writing this, he asked me how I was, and, honestly, I don’t even know what to answer. If he knew that for me that was an intolerable boundary, why did he ask me out, and what response did he expect after sending me that? To add to that, I asked friend 2 if I could tell him this and he hasn’t responded either, even though he went in there to play; it’s a very frustrating situation and I don't know what to think and what to do, so thank you for reading and giving your opinions, to be honest I need it

I’m new to this and I just need to vent out some of my frustrations. Advice or guidance would be appreciated. There are not a prominent number of people present in my life that are familiar with this issue. If someone who has experienced this or knows someone who has experienced this wants to share some advice/feedback/ect, I would be indebted and grateful. Idk if this will be approved, hopefully it will.

———

I have noticed that my loathing comes in waves. I will have a moment of time where I feel fine and somewhat okay with myself. Revisiting the evidence that a homosexual relationship is fine, the Bible only condemns homosexual sex. However, I will fall back into that trap of loathing over the existence of my homosexuality, wondering “What if I’m wrong? What if even the mere concept of being in a relationship with a woman is bad, even if it is not sexual?” Then boom, I’m pulled back into a depressive episode that affects everything from my school, to even my personal relationships.

Even though I’m trying my darnedest to hide my struggling, part of me wants others to notice, so I can be given comfort or support. Is that attention seeking? I’m not sure, but that is the only way I feel comfortable enough ”asking” for help. I’m not great with words or emotions, so maybe if people can put the dots together and come to a conclusion, then my actions and what they see will do the work for me. So that I don’t have to walk up to them and initiate the uncomfortable conversation, they will do it themselves. The closest I came to genuinely approaching someone for help was the social worker, and she didn’t listen to me and dismiss my problems, claiming it was something else entirely.

I don’t think she can relate or empathize with what I’m going through. Sexuality in tandem with religious guilt is a bit more nuanced than simply feeling lonely or having a bad break up and feeling sad about it. I have tried talking to some of the other people who visited her. One of my friends visited her for her issue. She told me a very similar story, that the social worker listened to her for around five minutes and then proceeded to misinterpret the situation and spin it into something else entirely. Recommending something that for not help address the issue, usually it consists of “You are just lonely and need friends, get friends, ignore the issue, and focus on school. It is not that big of a deal because it a phase that we all go through,” (Well, a hyperbolic summarization, but that is what I and many others took away from her meetings.)

I have yet to meet anyone who has actually benefited from their visits with her. I think I’m better off confiding in one of my teachers, I know them, they know me, there is more comfort and trust. The problem with confiding with someone is no one is really familiar or understanding of my situation. From my own experience and observations, there is not a lot of people who know or are familiar enough with such a nuanced and risky situation. If I confide in my friends there will be two parties, the side that says “Hell yeah, kiss women! Screw your religion,” and the “Idk, just stop being gay and marry a godly man, lol.” Both are not helpful in the slightest, I can’t just abandon God, or stop being gay, (I have already tried.)

I empathize with the fact that she most likely does not understand what I’m experiencing. I’m not superb at communicating my emotions or being vulnerable. I’m too walled-off and emotional inept to be equipped with the necessary capabilities to effectively express my grief. I feel as if I can’t trust anyone with this information. It required a monumental amount of effort to push myself to even apply for the appointment, let alone attending it. I’m dreading the next appointment...

She recommended that I acquire more female friends because I’m devoid of “girl-hood”, it irritates me that she deluded my feelings to something so trivial and simple. I have experienced this attraction ever since I was in elementary school. I have always been drawn to femininity and the female figure.

I have had the desire of wanting and desiring another woman carnally. Femininity is enthralling as well, I just can’t help but appreciate and bask in another woman elegance, beauty, and grace. I felt and experienced such deep-seated feelings for women that I never had for a guy. The feelings and appreciation for women span such a nuance that only I would know. It would be futile to attempt to put them down on paper (or in this case text.)

She telling me that not attracted to girls, that it is a phase that I can get over, and that I just want to be like them. I regret not correcting her on my perspective, however, I’m too effete to speak up any how. I crave the intimacy, connection, and something more carnal that one can only receive through a deeper more intimate relationship. What I desire cannot be found only in “girl-hood” or within the confines of a platonic relationship. As such, attempting to find solace in it with a woman in a platonic realm is futile, and only leaves an impression of emptiness more than anything.

However, I understand her position, she is not a woman whom is burdened by homosexuality such as I am. No matter what she does or attempts to do, she can simply not understand my feelings or experience, that is acceptable, I do not fault her on that. She is doing the best that she can from her limited familiarity on the subject, and I appreciate her effort.

Returning to the note on my sexuality, I’m frustrated. I feel deeply disgusted by the affections and desire that I have for other women. I’m sickened by the carnal nature of my lust for women. I feel grossed out when I have the desire to hold hands with another woman, cuddle with another woman, perhaps go on a romantic evening stroll with another woman. I’m angered at the desire to pursue a romantic and deeply intimate and deeply-seated relationship with another woman. Why am I like this? Why.

I feel nothing but guilt and shame upon myself whenever I think of ever experiencing something beyond platonic means with another girl. It is an intangible idea for me to yearn for. Whenever I experience these ideas I feel I have spat in the face of God and my faith. I’m perverse and degenerative for experiencing these feelings for other women. Why can’t I have been born normal, why could I have not been born fancying men instead for women, why am I like this?

I despise myself so heavily for what I feel. I’m so alone and trapped, there is no one I can run to without objection or disassociation. At times I wished that god made me a boy, that I was not born a girl. That is not to say that I desire to transition or anything akin to that. It is simply that I yearn to have been birthed as a biological male, so that I could love women without sin.

I’m so envious of heterosexual women and men in general that it sickens me to my core. Why was I cursed with homosexuality, what did do to deserve such a lonely and miserable state? I pray that men and heterosexual women never take their freedom for granted. They are fortunate people to not be burdened by guilt that people like me have to endure.

I beg that this is a phase, that I will move past this and become heterosexual. I hate my sexuality, I hate my vice, I hate it so much.

Why was a born to only be condemned or casted to be lonely, it is not fair. Why did you curse me with this God, why? I don’t understand, it hurts me so deeply, what did I do?

I just feel alone, hurt, and guilty. I’m mad that I can’t get over this. I think that it is gone, that I have moved beyond that point of grief. Then, it hits me again, and begin having doubts. I feel disgusted with my feelings and myself. I’m angry that no matter how much a pray or suppressed my homosexual urges and desires, they come back. I wish I didn’t feel this way.

you ever feel like communication can be a bit of a minefield in couples? i'm 41 now, been there, done that with relationships, and it’s kinda wild how things change over the years. like, when you're young, you think love is all about the butterflies and passion, right? but then you hit your 40s and it's more about understanding what your partner really means when they say "I'm fine" 🤔. i mean, come on, we both know they’re usually not fine. it’s like this secret code, and you gotta crack it if you wanna survive. communication is key, they always say, but what happens when that key doesn't fit the lock, you feel? think about it, how many times have you had those awkward moments where you thought you knew what they wanted, but turns out you were totally off base? it’s like trying to read a book upside down. sometimes, it feels like we’re just talking in circles; have you experienced that? i remember this one time, me and my partner spent nearly an hour discussing where to order dinner. endless back and forth, and honestly, it felt ridiculous. it all came down to just burgers or sushi, but we both had different moods and preferences. at one point, i even joked, "why don't we just make it a burger sushi fusion?" but of course, that didn't help. i think every couple can relate to that, right? so then there’s the whole question of asking the right things. “how was your day” is a classic, but doesn’t really dig deep. have you ever tried asking, “what made you smile today?” or “what was the most annoying thing that happened to you?” those kinda questions open up a whole new world. you can really get to know your partner beyond the surface-level stuff. couple's questions can be a game changer, or they can backfire too; sometimes you might strike a nerve you didn’t mean to poke. you know that feeling when you’re just trying to connect, and you accidentally touch a sore spot? i used to think it was a disaster, but now i see it as an opportunity, right? after all, who doesn't want to deepen their bond? there’s this idea out there, “no pain, no gain,” and it feels kinda true when it comes to relationships. it’s like, if you don’t face the tough stuff, how can you expect to grow together? i find that even tricky conversations can ultimately strengthen your connection. and to be real, it’s not always easy. sometimes you just wanna avoid the hard talks and binge-watch a show instead, but skipping them doesn’t do anyone any favors in the long run. have you found a balance in that? like, when’s the best time to dive into those heavier topics? i guess there’s no one-size-fits-all answer. i’ve had mixed success; sometimes, a random Tuesday night feels right, and other times, the moment can totally kill the vibe, you know? but here’s a thought, maybe curiosity is the secret ingredient. if you approach conversations with a genuine interest in what your partner is feeling or thinking, it could really take the pressure off. think about asking them quirky questions too, like "if you could have dinner with anyone in the world, who would it be?" those can lead to some fun discussions. and let’s be honest, life is too short to always be serious. sometimes we just need to laugh and remember why we connected in the first place. it’s easy to get lost in the day-to-day grind, juggling work, kids, or whatever, and forget to take a moment to appreciate each other. have you found little ways to keep that spark alive? me and my partner started doing a monthly “date night” where we try new things together, from cooking classes to trying out different restaurants, or even just chilling at home with a movie marathon. it really helps break up the routine and keeps things fresh. the simple act of prioritizing fun together makes a massive difference, you know? we’ve had the cheesy heart-to-heart moments where we just sit and talk for hours about our dreams, fears, or even random stuff that pops into our heads. sometimes it's enlightening, sometimes hilarious, but it all comes back to connecting. i guess at the end of the day, it’s all about finding your rhythm as a couple, and embracing the ride with all its bumps; we might not have it all figured out, but as long as we are willing to ask questions and keep the conversation going, we’re on the right track, right? so here’s my question to you: what’s your go-to couples question?