Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Both of my parents have decided not to attend my upcoming wedding in September, leaving me completely devastated. I am about to marry an incredible woman, yet my mother has abruptly refused to participate due to personal grievances, and my father, estranged for nearly a decade and from a culture that does not accept lesbian marriages, is hesitant about attending due to potential discomfort.

My mother's reservation stems from having to share the space with my uncle who, in the past, reported her to Child Protective Services when my stepfather was abusing myself and my brother—a situation she had been hiding. Although the intervention was justified, my mother has harbored resentment towards my uncle ever since, and she accused me of betrayal for confiding in him. She insists on maintaining her boundaries, even if it means missing her own daughter's wedding. To me, it feels like she could set aside her grievances for just one day, but she views my upset as an overreaction.

The situation has left me both angry and powerless. I wonder if my expectations are unreasonable or if my feelings are validly profound.

Imagine if this personal turmoil were unfolded on a reality TV show—cameras rolling as each family drama layer revealed itself in front of a national audience. The viewers would likely be split, some empathizing deeply with emotional struggles and familial rifts, while others might view the conflicts as overly dramatic or fabricated for ratings. The episode would likely stir up significant discussions on family dynamics, personal boundaries, and the importance of support during significant life events.

Hi guys,

Growing up, I endured mistreatment from one of my parents. When I opened up about it, my parents separated, and the abusive parent moved out. We stayed in the same apartment, I started therapy, and life moved on.

Still, I struggled with nightmares and flashbacks, particularly triggered by my bedroom. I requested to change rooms or at least rearrange mine, but my family refused.

This discomfort persisted, and I left home as soon as possible. Even now, visiting my family makes me uneasy, a feeling that intensified after I reported the abuse in 2021 and had to recount the details of the apartment.

Now, I stay with a friend during visits.

My mother recently acquired her aunt's apartment nearby and is fervently renovating it. She often sends me photos of the progress. While I get why she wants to share, I feel resentful that there was never such excitement about updating my own space or moving while I was there. She claimed we couldn't afford to move then, but now she's taking on significant debt, which might even fall on me, as she's buying the flat to finance her aunt's care.

Compounding my distress, my mother approached the friend I stay with to rent our old apartment. It feels like I'm losing my safe haven to the shadows of my past.

To others, it may just be a series of new beginnings, and perhaps to some, an apartment is just that. My mother argues that I'm being unreasonable and insists everything is fresh and free of past burdens. She believes I should wait and see once renovations are complete. I've explained that it doesn't feel that way to me and asked her to dial back on the renovation updates, but she hasn't adjusted her approach.

What hits differently is how people's indifference makes me feel isolated. If I were on a reality show, viewers might see just how deep these "renovations" cut and could better understand why I can't just let go of the past as easily as they're redecorating.

Am I wrong for letting my emotions show and for telling her instead of acting thrilled for everyone else's sake?

My wife, Emily, and I tied the knot two years back after dating for five years. She brought her two amazing sons into our marriage and recently, we were overjoyed to welcome our new daughter into the world. When planning for our daughter, Emily made it clear that she wanted to dedicate the first year to exclusive breastfeeding, and stepping away from the workforce to do so, to which I gladly agreed given our stable financial state at the time.

However, things took a drastic turn when my brother illicitly withdrew $25,000 from our joint account, shaking our finances to the core. With only $3,000 left and a rent of $2800, I found myself in a position where I had to ask Emily to reconsider working, despite our initial agreement. Her response was heartbreaking as she exclaimed her disappointment and retreated, locking herself away in despair. Later, she confessed her deep resentment towards the situation, expressing fear that she might have reconsidered having our daughter had she known about the potential change in plans. She strongly felt it was my responsibility to resolve the mess created by my own family member and threatened separation if pushed to work.

It feels like we're stuck in a dire financial situation here, and without her additional support, I'm not sure how to navigate through. This has left our relationship strained to the point where communication has become minimal and filled with sadness.

I can’t help but wonder how this scenario would be received if we were part of a reality show. Would people empathize with the pressure we’re under, or would they judge the emotional outbursts and my desperate request for her to work? The volatile dynamics and intense confrontations might draw sympathy or criticism, turning our personal crisis into a public spectacle evoking strong reactions from viewers.

So my parent was really strict before and barely let me do anything, but I started to have a lot of anxiety and just by making the smallest mistake I would start having a panic attack because I was so scared of failure and not being enough that it got dangerous and even developed into a phobia. My parent got really mad at me for always messing up because of my severe anxiety and manic depression from their expectations being too high. They called me 'ungrateful' and always using my mental health as 'excuses' just to get things. I tried to explain why I act like this, but they were having none of it. I just stopped trying to explain myself and just told them what's really happening in my head and body, but they just said it was another one of my excuses to get something,but I was just trying to tell them that they needed to start following the accommodations my safety plan says and they just waved me off, gave me one of my devices and started ignoring me for days.

I'm a single girly and I'm curious about the bestest ways to meet people. I recently am able to drive around and got my ID's and stuff... Super jazzed about that. But I'm curious, since these days most people just suggest dating apps... And I've tried them...😑.

They didn't work out🫠. Plus, even though money isn't technically an issue for me anymore... It's annoying as all heck to have to pay to find love or at least a compatible relationship😒.

I'm also new to the area I live in, and I don't know what people would recommend meeting people😅. Especially in this day and age.

I'm totally open to meeting people, even if it's just to make friendos... But it's hard to tell if people would be open to being friends with a stranger🫠. Life ain't like the movies where there's a convention meet-cute and we all dance around the fire and sing kumbya🤪!!

I think my mental health has gotten better, I eat better, and exercise more... And now I'm ready to meet other like minded individuals... But where🤔. And what do others look for? No one really ever gives detailed descriptions of what they want in a partner🤷🏻‍♀️. Maybe cause they don't wanna be perceived as judgemental, or maybe they haven't thought about it... But I'd really like to know such things before delving too deep into a relationship. Obviously not overwhelming the other person, but sharing some major red flags or make or break things. Do you people know what I'm saying🥹🙏🏻✨?

i’ve spent my whole life chasing the dream of being a pro footballer, y’know? every day, training on my own, with the lads, at the gym, trying to push myself harder than yesterday. i’d wake up early, sleep late, never stopped thinking about the game. but now, i’m 23, and it’s finally hitting me that maybe, just maybe, i’m not good enough. no club’s ever taken me seriously, and i can’t even get a spot to earn a basic salary from this. it hurts, honestly, because i gave it everything i had. my parents, bless them, they’ve been my biggest cheerleaders, always saying “don’t give up,” but i can see it in their eyes too – they’re worried about what comes next. i should’ve studied more, kept my options open, but all i could think of was football. now it feels like i’m standing at the edge of a cliff, wondering what to do next. do i keep pushing for something that’s not happening, or do i finally admit i need a plan b?

the thing is, i don’t even know what i’d do if it’s not football. i’ve put all my eggs in this basket for so long, i can’t imagine doing anything else. i didn’t focus on school, didn’t get a trade, nothing. football was my life, my identity. now i feel like a fool, and it’s scary. but i guess life’s not over yet. there’s still time to figure something out, even if it means starting from scratch. i’ve been thinking about coaching, maybe working with kids, trying to pass on what i know. or i could look at fitness training or something else sporty – something that keeps me close to the game. it’s not the big dream i had, but it’s a start, right? i’m not gonna sit around and mope forever, i just need to get my head straight and make a new plan; maybe this was never meant to be my path in the first place. have you ever felt like your dream was slipping away from you and you had to start again?

sometimes i feel embarrassed talking about this, like i’m letting everyone down – my family, my mates, even myself. but deep down, i know they just want me to be happy. it’s not about how much money you make or the career you have, it’s about waking up and feeling good about what you’re doing. i don’t want to waste more years chasing something that’s breaking me down. i’m still young, i’ve got time to figure it out, and i’m not afraid to work hard – i just need to be smart about it. maybe i’ll find something that gives me the same buzz as football. maybe it’ll take a while. but i’m not giving up on life, not on my dreams either, just shifting them a bit. at the end of the day, it’s about finding your own version of success, whatever that looks like. so why am i not good enough? maybe i am – just not for the path i thought i wanted.

Hello all, I might sound a bit ridiculous, but I really need to vent. Yesterday, I picked up a regular-sized bottle of salad dressing for a dinner I was planning. To give you a bit of background, I handle most of our financial responsibilities—groceries, the mortgage, you name it. I usually get along well with my partner, but we recently had an argument over the most trivial thing. Typically, a bottle of salad dressing lasts me about one or two weeks because I don’t use much. We decided to have dinner together last night, and to my surprise, I noticed the entire bottle was empty. It seems like my partner used it all in just one day. I felt this was a bit excessive and selfish.

When I confronted him, I simply suggested, “Maybe you could use a bit less so it lasts longer?” But instead of understanding, the conversation blew up into a massive fight. He laughed and accused me of “making a mountain out of a molehill over some dressing.” Since I’m the main one buying groceries and this isn't the first time that food has disappeared before I get a chance to enjoy it, I’m frustrated. We’ve talked about this before. He thinks I’m being petty about a few dollars, but from my perspective, it’s about being considerate since I’m footing the bill. It’s just us two in the house—no kids. So, am I being unreasonable?

Imagine if this was a segment on a reality TV show. The scene could dramatically zoom in on the empty salad dressing bottle as suspenseful music plays, then cut to our heated dialogue with viewers at home gasping at the audacity. How would the audience react to such an everyday disagreement blown up on screen? Would they side with me for seeking some consideration, or would they think I'm overreacting about something minor?

How do viewers think a reality show audience might react to my salad dressing dilemma?

I'm a minor who is a trans man. A few months ago I came out to my parents as trans but my dad has acted like nothing happened and my Mom tells me it's a phase and asks me why I would decide this horrid future for myself even though I didn't choose it. I wish I could say she wasn't supporting but she is, she is very open about trans rights but when it comes to me I feel like my identity is just a funny joke to her or me "rebelling". I hate myself. She hates me, not her. I took away her little girl and I wish I hadn't. What do I do?

I’m 14 and I didn’t really have a good past because of my mother, and the past couple months now I have noticed a lot of changes about myself mentally. If I’m out of the house for too long like at stores or restaurants, I’ll just panic and I don’t understand why, It becomes hard to talk and usually I’ll just say “home”. Last year me and my family went to a huge festival, I panicked and we had to sit down for a while, I would stop panicking but it would start up again randomly and I just couldn’t control it. My grandma and grandpa took me to the car and I calmed down while my dad and my sister were still out for about 15 minutes before we left. They kept bringing it up and said it was an “inconvenience”. Often times if I feel a texture I don’t like, it feels weird like I have to shake it off my hands or I just sit there with my hands out and go like “ah” or “eugh”, my grandma as recognized it and will give me a napkin for my hands or just move us away from where the material was. Sometimes I get in this headspace where I feel like mentally around the ages of 6-10. I never really got to have a childhood, my dad said it was good before him and my mom got divorced but I don’t remember it and I only remember the bad stuff. I want to know what’s wrong with me but when I asked my therapist she said it was just a phase but I cried to her about it months ago (she is no longer my therapist for other reasons). I feel like I’m this way because I was forced to grow up too fast, I mean I was taking care of a baby (my little sister) when I was 5. My mom was selling my toys and Christmas presents for drugs.

When I get really interested in something like a video game, I talk very passionately about it and sometimes I get a little loud when I talk but I don’t notice it. My dad always gets mad at me and I try to stay quieter. I almost always tell my grandma about all my interests and crafts because she is the only one who actually listens. Today I went to talk to her about the craft I wanted to do for my Halloween costume this year. I was in debate between doing a barn owl or a deer kinda cosplay. I was in the middle of saying how I thought the deer one would be harder and how I really wanted to do the owl, but she didn’t let me talk and just kept saying “the owl sounds too hard, you should do the deer”. I kept asking her to let me explain and she was like “well the owl just seems too hard for you”. At that point I just went back upstairs to my room and cried. My dad doesn’t let me tell him about my interests because I talk too much and he wants the short story,now he doesn’t want to hear it at all. My little sister is spoiled rotten by my dad and just doesn’t let me talk, then she gets mad at me when I get mad at her because she keeps interrupting me.

I just want to know what’s wrong with me

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

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

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

Am I being unreasonable?

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

I like this guy, c, he is cute, funny, sweet. Literally checks all the boxes.

I've known C from school for 2 years but the first time saw him I was sitting I

In the school cafeteria and saw him walking by through one of the windows. My first thought was "oh, he's kinda cute". I didn't have any classes with him that year and didn't see him until the first day of school the next year.

The first day of school came, and because I am sooo lucky, I had art first period with both of my younger sisters. We arrived to class and he assigned us seats. I was sitting at a table with a girl and guy who are a grade lower than me, same grade as my sisters, and C. (C is in the same grade as me). Over the next 3 months I had the best time at this table, he made me laugh so hard.

Suddenly, my art teacher gave us new seats, and I wasn't sitting with C anymore. I was already sitting alone at lunch so being isolated from people who made me happy sucked even more. Eventually this really kind girl, G, invited me to sit with her and her friends during lunch. Me and G are now best friends. Well one of these girls, K, like C too. I was to afraid to tell anyone of my crush, plus I also wasn't sure it was a crush yet. Unfortunately, k and c ended up dating for a while and I decided I would never tell anybody my crush. Well the school year came to an end and they broke up. I left him alone and didn't see him again until next school year.

This school year c was in my science class. The second I saw him all my feelings immediately came back. He would occasionally talk to me and I would catch him looking at me across hallways and the cafeteria. I was elated. Little did I know my school was going to bump up to advanced science. I, of course, took the opportunity as it gave me a high school credit, unlike the other course. So, things went along as normal, c would still look over at me and I would look over at him, but neither of us ever made a move.

Then I have a sleepover with G and she convinces me to get his number and text him. She ended up finding his number and texting him on my phone, I was scared shittless, like I was a HOT MESS. He ended up not remembering me from art, or knowing my name, or even the fact that we had science together a month ago. That hurt, like a lot. I gave up, he wouldn't start the conversation, his texts were dry, and he never talked to me in school. Of course I would still get butterflies whenever we were close to each other, but I tried to convince myself I didn't like him. I told my friends my crush was over, I didn't text him again, and I pushed all thoughts of him out of my brain.

THEN I FIND OUT HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND

(This is like 2/3 months later)

I here one of my friends casually mention that C and V make a really cute couple to my other friend. My heart dropped. V was the one girl at school that I would constantly compare myself to.

She's prettier than me, has more friends than me, is cooler, taller, funnier, hotter, of course c wanted her, hell I wanted to BE HER.

I pushed down my feelings but now G is dating one of Cs friends so whenever me and G hang out with Gs bf he's always there, and it's SO AWKWARD CUZ I STILL LIKE HIM AND I THOUGHT HE LIKE ME

but apparently I'm just some delusional teenage girl who actually needs to chill out, cuz he has a gf, who's not me.

I don't know what to do, I've tried liking other guys, but I almost have to force myself to like them. I've tried ignoring him. I've tried talking to my therapist about him, not the fact that I still like him but she was there for when I started texting him and stuff.

If you guys have any suggestions for getting over somebody, that would be great.

Love y'all!💕

I recently wrote a post on Facebook, and it censored me, considering the very elements I needed to bring to light regarding events in my family. I had to post it in a WhatsApp group to avoid falling into the same trap as the previous platform.

That hurt me completely. For a long time, I had sought out the public eye about what had happened with my family, my experiences, and what it meant to me to lose them as a safe zone. As usual, I was another one of those individuals who kept what happened at home to themselves, normalizing the situation over time, even though the outside world showed me a completely different normality than what I experienced at home and through family interactions.

I was one of those who expressed that what I saw on television and other media outlets was solely to sell propaganda. In fact, they even convinced me that Children's Day was purely a commercial component. In that family, I lived isolated from the world. That is, I couldn't bring friends home, I couldn't choose what the market demanded, I had to stick to the music my parents liked, I didn't go to places other people went too, and everything was always driven by a desire to view family relationships and events as supreme and as beings that simply err. It was a desire to justify why we didn't go out and interact with the outside world. My mother lived with a desire for home, and besides, she felt that it was hers and she could do whatever she wanted, with my father backing her up, which made me feel like I couldn't belong anywhere outside the home like my own. My moments when I felt closest to people, where I could joke around and play games, surrounded by my parents, were always segregated, denigrated, and even seen as reasons for scolding for issues that were never really addressed; in fact, they ruined the moment for me.

Regarding my abilities, it was also the same. In sales, creativity, studies, and lifestyle, my mother liked to call the shots, belittling points of view other than her own and also seeking to alleviate the fact that she didn't know the true path either, as a way of making her perspective supreme. My father always told me to blindly accept her, and that was also the case with his second wife. In both homes, my university studies were sabotaged through the absorption of both families due to my absence from their events. It always turned out to be a family that sought to sabotage my progress or make it difficult, only to then applaud any achievement despite everything, in other words, evading the responsibility of having reached the goal under pressure.

They all turned out to be a family of monsters, of people who also wanted to profit monetarily from my progress if it was achieved, without any limitations. They were saboteurs and, on top of that, profiteers. Added to this, they liked to speak ill of me behind my back, gang up on me, and favor their compliance. Without a doubt, they wanted me down, adding to their support for individuals who wanted to harm me, and also avoiding news about it. The only reason they currently act with respect is because I show the consequences of their actions. Their desire as good individuals lies only in preventing them, because if there aren't any, they resort to the same practice. Ironically, being the instigators of the events, they also sought complacency despite their reactions. They were people who sought to see me down and not feel guilty thanks to me, demonstrating precisely the consequences of their actions.

Right now, I find myself in conditions I like, and they have also been the target of attack, through sabotage from outside, intended to make me a destabilizing factor in the environment. I wanted to confront them with therapists, but they all became counters to my need to vent, consolidating me on the ground. To ensure that these relatives wouldn't be invasive in my search for a therapist given my reactions, I needed to find someone who would express the end of therapy by agreeing to return if it was deemed necessary, as is often the case, in order to put an end to that path. Even the therapists turned away, forcing me to be manipulative in order to escape their clutches. Of course, when there's no outside support and internal pressure is great, social solutions based on outside support only end up being maladaptive.

The fact that Facebook censored, or at least reviewed, my post made me feel like there was no way out. No therapist wanted to help me, and I didn't have a social network. They only sought to persuade me to repair my problems the point. That is, to form a vision that was once again complacent and disarmed, at the mercy of others, just as my parents wanted. It's not fair that I was in this very complex situation, a psychological framework, and everyone was collaborating to consolidate me there, that is, diverting me from my interests. No one wanted to help me; all those who tried simply based their help on criticizing me, instead of protecting themselves with my circumstances. Not one was able to admit that they couldn't help me. I had to say goodbye to all these people.

I had to let go of all the lives I had built, given that they were at the mercy of a profile that would try to pressure me to return to it, when I didn't want to return. Now has been an escape from the influences of that environment I was in, allowing me to function completely normally, the mechanisms even being unconscious, simply by letting myself be guided by intuition.

Furthermore, with the posts I'd already made about my family, I felt pained because no one gave a like or any icon that expressed receptivity. In other words, when it came to talking about the issues my family had asked me, I felt alone. I felt like everyone was once again supporting my consolidation of it, being indifferent to how I treated them, all in order to support the stereotypes. I had to take a risk, removing many family members from the mix, the goal of which was to get me out of my peaceful life, through such support and meetings, which no one had even asked me about. An aunt, excited precisely by having me at the mercy of domination, through fear—of all people in the world—wondered, why do I have to be pleasing to those who would like to dominate? Of course, this was the spirit of my parents with my upbringing, of subjugation so they could then make us their servants. It's an abuse of power to isolate an innocent child through prejudice, to keep them at the mercy of complacency, precisely because of the prejudices that create walls that hide what's going on within the family.

Without a doubt, from childhood until now, all of this has resulted in a nightmare for me. I wanted to reveal myself to this system and was prevented, then I returned but was also undermined, and now this third time, I wasn't going to allow myself to be left behind. I prefer to start over, without these relationships, no matter what. Regarding therapists, there's nothing more unpleasant than coming to them with your problem, and they simply seek to smooth it over, rather than affirming that they can't handle it. Personally, I don't see that it has motivated me to take action on my own, through my own visions; after all, they were the only ones that helped me feel good.

I had to look after my life, my future, because no one else was doing it. Indeed, no one supported her, however, that only tells me that these people are not the right ones for me.

I have this friend, Carly, who’s 23 and we've been tight ever since our freshman days back in high school. She’s been chasing her musical dreams in LA lately. Carly always had a knack for writing; she even got her degree from a reputable private liberal arts college in California, majoring in Creative Writing. Most of us who know her well were betting she’d go into songwriting. However, Carly decided to take on singing instead. She's already dropped three singles and has an album in the pipeline, but honestly, they're just not good. Her vocal timbre really doesn’t cut it—it’s rather flat and nasal, plus she has this odd way of modulating her pitch. Watching her perform live is even more of a struggle. The crowd of friends she's made in LA keep cheering her on, telling her she’s phenomenal. I’m just worried about how far their praises will carry her before someone in the business pulls the plug and tells her straight up, “you can’t sing.”

What worries me more is thinking what if she ever ended up on one of those reality singing shows? Like, imagine her getting up there with that same supportive crowd, only to face the harsh critiques from seasoned judges in front of a national audience. Could you just imagine the humiliation? It’s hard enough seeing her wade through local gigs, but that level of exposure and raw feedback could really break her.

How does one deal with this? Is it kinder to let her keep dreaming while everyone around nods and smiles, or would a true friend intervene before the reality becomes too painful? Waiting it out seems like watching a ticking time bomb. Is sitting back really the answer?

I'm sorry. It was my fault you felt bad. I didn't listen. I didn't think. Last time It went fine and you liked It and didn't felt bad and nothing happened and i felt overconfident. It's my fault and I'm sorry. And honestly? i always thought you were right. I am selfish and horrible and arrogant. I know. But tbh in the case at the very least there was a Little thing that would've spared us both the trouble, It's called Communication. Not that you would know. This morning before i even thought about cooking you said you had to eat something plain and simple for your stomach. When i was about to start cooking YOU SAID you wanted plain pasta and ASKED me to make It. And i did. Even after that I ASKED YOU "ARE YOU GONNA EAT THESE THINGS I'M MAKING TONIGHT OR ARE YOU GONNA EAT PLAIN AGAIN?" and you SAID "No. Do whatever you want. I can't eat them tonight." And i said "ok". ONLY AFTER THAT I PUT SEASONING YOU CAN'T EAT. bc YOU SAID YOU WEREN'T GONNA EAT THEM ANYWAY. I WAS PLANNING TO SHARE THEM WITH YOU, I ASKED YOU SAID NO. end of It. Then you asked if i could make you bread with the dough. I knew for a fact the dough wasn't gonna be enough and i told you. "Probably not cause there's a lot. But I can make other dough if you want." Cause that Is kinda how It works. You want bread? You tell me and i make It for you bc you asked. You can't Just leave hints last minute and expect me to figure It out anyway. I tried to make more Dough for you bread you literally forbid me from doing It cause i was a selfish b. All of that, remembering the fact you asked me for something else (the pasta) and i make It for you cause that what you asked. I asked if you wanted share and you SAID no.

All of that when in normal circumstances i always share with you. When i have adapt recipes i always do. But when i don't share with you bc you SAID specifically NO. I'm the Monster. Ok. Sure. Whatever.

As a father of four kids, you’d think I’d have the patience of a saint by now, but that’s just not the case. The tiniest things set me off, and I hate the way it feels. I love my family more than anything, but there are days when I catch myself snapping over something completely ridiculous and wonder what’s wrong with me.

Take last night, for example. Dinner time at our house is always chaotic. Plates clatter, someone spills their drink, and there’s a constant battle over who gets the last roll. It’s the usual stuff, and I know it’s part of having a big family, but when my youngest accidentally knocked over the salt shaker for the third time in a week, I lost it. I raised my voice, and the look on her face—pure shock—hit me like a punch to the gut. It was just salt. Why couldn’t I just laugh it off like my wife did? Instead, I made her feel bad for a mistake that didn’t matter.

This kind of thing happens all the time. It’s not the big issues that get to me—it’s the little, everyday stuff. Toys left in the hallway, a sock that doesn’t have a match, a crayon mark on the wall... all of it feels like tiny needles poking at me until I can’t hold it in anymore. And when I snap, I immediately regret it. I see the way my kids look at me, the way my wife sighs and shakes her head, and I know I’m the one in the wrong.

I’ve been trying to figure out where this anger is coming from. It’s not like I want to feel this way. I don’t wake up thinking, Gee, I can’t wait to get annoyed at the world today. But by the time the day’s over, I’m worn out. Between work, bills, chores, and keeping up with four kids, it’s like my patience tank runs dry way too fast. It doesn’t take much to set me off after that.

I think part of it is the pressure I put on myself to keep everything together. I want to be a good dad, a good husband, and someone my family can rely on. But when things don’t go the way I expect—when the house is messy, or the kids are fighting, or dinner gets burned—it feels like I’m failing. And instead of dealing with that feeling, I let it boil over into anger.

Another part of it is how I grew up. My dad was the same way. He’d get angry over the smallest things—a shoe left out of place, a door left open, the TV being too loud. Back then, I swore I’d never be like that, but here I am, falling into the same patterns. Maybe it’s something I picked up without realizing it, but that doesn’t make it okay. I don’t want my kids to remember me as the dad who yelled over spilled milk.

I’ve started trying to be more aware of my triggers. Like, when I feel that frustration bubbling up, I try to pause and ask myself, Is this really worth getting upset over? Sometimes it works, but other times, it’s like the anger is faster than my logic. I know I need to find better ways to cope, but it’s hard to break a habit that feels so ingrained.

My wife has been incredibly patient through all of this. She’s the calm one in the family, the one who can laugh off the chaos and remind me to do the same. The other day, after I got upset about a broken remote control, she pulled me aside and said, “You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders, you know. It’s okay if things aren’t perfect.” I know she’s right, but letting go of that control is easier said than done.

The hardest part is the guilt. After I’ve calmed down, I think about how my kids must see me in those moments, and it breaks my heart. I don’t want them to feel like they’re walking on eggshells around me. I want them to feel safe, to know that mistakes are okay and that their dad loves them no matter what. But when I let my anger take over, I’m sending the opposite message.

If you’re reading this and you’ve felt the same way, I want you to know you’re not alone. Being a parent is hard, and we’re all just trying to do the best we can. But I also know that getting angry over little things isn’t fair—to ourselves or to the people we love. It’s something I’m working on every day, and if you’re struggling with it too, maybe we can figure it out together.

I don’t have all the answers yet, but I know this: I don’t want to keep asking myself, why do I get so angry over little things? I want to find a way to let go, to focus on what really matters, and to be the kind of dad my kids can look up to. It’s not going to happen overnight, but I think acknowledging the problem is the first step.

Here’s hoping the next time the salt shaker falls, I can just laugh it off and keep going. Because in the end, it’s not about the salt—it’s about the love and chaos that comes with being part of a big, messy, wonderful family.