Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Struggling with family basically...

I hate being an elder daughter who's supposed to be the 'perfect' child.

I need to get the best grades, but it's tiring and exhausting now.

Nobody really tries to understand MY point of view.

My mother is too stubborn and strict. She gets mad and disappointed if I don't get the perfect marks. She pretends to be caring, but indirectly shows her disappointment in me. Worst of all, I can't vent to my friends because I don't want to burden them when they're dealing with their own problems.

Also, I need to be that role model for my younger sibling. I can't afford any mistakes.

I'm the child that my parents don't love. My younger sibling is the favorite. I love my little sibling, but I want the same love too. I just want my parents to be proud of me, for once. To tell me that my efforts are enough.

I am a terrible husband, or at least that's how I feel. fir the record, I am not abusive physically or mentally, and I am not the type to cheat on my wife. She is a great wife, and she means the world to me. She supports my crazy ideas and vice versa.

But the reason I feel like a terrible husband is because while I love my wife dearly, I have very similar feelings for a close friend. One of my best friends, actually. We met not too long after I started dating my wife neatly 10 years ago. From the day I first saw her I was blown away by how beautiful she was.

We were co-workers and so we spent a lot if time together and so we became close friends. Even after the company closed, we remained close friends. Now at no point in time have I ever made a pass at her or done anything dishonest with her. But over the years I have slowly developed romantic feelings for her. I never meant to and never thought I could developed those feelings for another woman while feeling the same way about my wife.

The whole idea seems like something out of a movie and not something that could happen in reality. The feelings are selfish and constantly eat away at me. When I'm around her I wanna open up and confess how I feel and take the plunge like an idiot. But when we part and I get home to my wife I am reminded of my feelings for her and become overwhelmed with this dreadful feeling of how unfair I'm being to her.

The whole thing is beyond selfish and unfair to both of them. I would never destroy the life me and my wife have created and the bond we share because of someone else. But I also would never destroy my friendship with my friend because I'm having feelings I shouldn't, especially when she has no idea.

I feel so awful and I honestly hate myself for feeling the way I do. To make matters worse I have no one in my life I can talk to about it. Sometimes I go to bed a night hoping I don't wake up so I don't have to feel this way anymore. What kind of a man let's this happen? I never thought something like this was possible.

I'm so lost in all this and don't know what to do. I cant turn left and I can't turn right. Words can't begin to describe how sorry I am to both of them. Both can do better than me and deserve better than me.

Today, I experienced something I feel compelled to share, but let me provide some backdrop first. A while back, doctors diagnosed my mom, in her sixties, with a brain tumor that wasn’t causing her distress at the time. It was accidentally discovered during a check-up for a different issue. The doctors decided to monitor it rather than conducting invasive procedures.

Fast forward to the present, the tumor has gotten bigger. Mom's doctors are suggesting surgery to remove it and carry out further tests. Naturally, my mom is terrified about the operation and keeps wavering on her decision.

I relayed this situation to my husband, who's 35 like me. We've purposely kept our daughter, who's four, in the dark about her grandma's condition, so I spoke to him in private. It's important to know that my husband strongly favors natural remedies and believes people should address the root causes of their health problems. While I agree that medicine or surgery isn't always necessary—having managed my own anxiety and depression through lifestyle adjustments—his views can be a bit extreme for me.

Previously, when my sister was dealing with thyroid cancer, he attributed it to her stress levels and recommended meditation.

He gave a similar response when my dad needed urgent care for internal bleeding.

And once, when I had severe chest pain and had to rush to the ER—where I later found out I needed more tests—he insisted it was just anxiety and didn't accompany me.

When we found out our daughter had allergies and needed medication, he argued it was because she didn't spend enough time outdoors, claiming codependency could trigger respiratory issues.

Discussing my mom’s current medical issue, he suggested that breathwork could cure brain cancer and expressed that if he were in her shoes, he'd avoid surgery or medication and focus on lifestyle changes that might have led to the illness.

I requested him not to share these views with my mom and to instead offer me support. I wanted to know if he thought I was okay or if he could provide me emotional backing. He replied that he couldn’t support me while I disregarded his treatment ideas. Frustrated, I cut off the conversation.

Am I being unreasonable for asking him not to impose his unsolicited holistic treatments on my mom or to refrain from sharing those views with me? Please note, I’ve never asked for his medical opinions in the past, only for his emotional support.

Imagine if I were on some reality show discussing this—I bet the audience would be gasping and taking sides! Some might cheer for holistic approaches, while others would probably empathize with the need for emotional support during tough times. The scene would get heated, prompting all sorts of reactions from shock to support to disbelief!

i found out two weeks ago that my husband’s cancer is not just bad, it is the kind of bad where doctors lower their voices before they say anything. we have been married three years, which sounds like a tiny number when someone starts talking about “weeks” like they are coins in a jar. he has a dangerous cancer, almost at the final phase, and everyone is being careful with their words, which somehow makes it worse. nobody says “he is leaving soon” out loud, but it sits in the room anyway. i recieve updates, nod, ask practical stuff, then cry in the parking lot until my face feels like it belongs to somebody else. i keep wondering why crying gives you a headache, because mine is constant now. it feels like my skull is packed too tight, like my brain is pushing on the walls and my head will explode.

he is still himself in little ways, which is sweet and awful at the same time. he complains about hospital food, tells me my driving is still scary, and asks me to stop hovering like a weird little security guard. i laugh when he says it, but then i go to the bathroom and cry again, because laughing feels almost rude when the ending is standing right there. we are spending these last weeks together while we can, doing basic things, not dramatic movie stuff. we sit on the couch, watch dumb shows, argue about what to eat, and sometimes just hold hands without talking. i am definately grateful for that, even if it hurts. there is no villain here, not really. the doctors are doing what they can, his body is just tired, and i am trying to not make every second about my panic. still, i cry alot, and every cry leaves pressure behind my eyes like a bill i have to pay.

the headache is starting to feel like a second person in the marriage, just sitting between us. i drink water, take medicine when i can, put cold towels on my forehead, and tell myself this is normal. maybe it is. maybe crying this much just dries you out, tightens your face, messes with your sleep, and turns grief into pain you can point at. does this happen to your too, where the sadness stops being just emotional and becomes this heavy physical thing? i don’t want pity exactly. i know people go through worse, and i know my husband is the one actually sick, not me. but being the person watching is its own kind of damage. i love him, i am scared, i am tired, and i keep wiping my face so he does not have to spend his last weeks watching me fall apart;

So, here's a thing I've been trying to wrap my head around recently—I like men. 😅 I'm 23, chill guy, and for the longest time, I thought I was supposed to be interested in women. You know, the usual societal expectations and all. I've had girlfriends before, crushes I thought were intense, and those typical high school flings. Still, over the past few months, something shifted within me. It's like unveiling a new layer of my identity; something that's been shadowed for a while. I guess I've been living under a heteronormative assumption all these years, thinking that's where my affinities lied. But, now... it's like, WOW!

The revelation came rather subtly, through a series of enlightening experiences that could rival a coming-of-age movie. Like, who would have thought that a simple conversation with this guy I met at a coffee shop could spark such introspection? We clicked instantly, sharing thoughts on everything from existentialism to astrophysics. Once, he quoted Oscar Wilde, saying, "To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance," and it hit me hard! 🧐 It wasn't just admiration for his intellect, but there was something more profound, an attraction that felt... right? I started recognizing these feelings weren't anomalous but rather indicative of a broader truth;

Anyway, I've been exploring LGBTQ+ resources and forums to understand this better. You know how it is... investigation mode activated! I've learned about Kinsey's scale of sexual orientation and how sexuality is fluid, not fixed—fascinating stuff, really! It's like reading through 'The Hidden History of Homosexuality' and realizing that this isn't new or weird but part of a continuum of human experience. 🤔 That was quite comforting to discover, knowing that others have traversed this path before me and come out (pardon the pun) just fine. Yet, it’s foreign ground for me and kind of daunting. Do I need to label myself now, or can I just, I don't know, be??? Love is a spectrum, right???

Growing up, my life was deeply entrenched in religious practices, as both of my parents embraced faith as young adults, met at church, and centered their entire social existence around religious activities. About five years ago, I realized that I didn't share their beliefs, and ever since revealing this, our relationship has been strained, particularly with my mother. As a child, I often protested attending church and expressed my discomfort with having religion imposed upon me. My stance saddened my parents, especially my mother, who confessed that it made her question her faith. They explained that since I live under their roof and am financially dependent on them, I must abide by their rules, which includes attending church.

As I've matured, I've come to understand how fundamental their faith is to them and that they believe they are acting in my best interest. Thus, I attend church with them every week without complaint. However, I still struggle when they continuously bring religion into daily conversations. Seeking advice usually leads to responses laden with religious references, which don’t resonate with me. Although I've tried to explain my point of view, it often results in arguments, with my parents insisting that they are just trying to offer guidance.

Not long ago, during a lengthy car ride, they insisted on interrupting my music listening to share a biblical passage. This demand sparked frustration in me, prompting me to confront their forceful approach. The situation escalated, and as a consequence, they confiscated my phone for the rest of the journey. While losing my phone is trivial, the recurring theme of such disputes pains me.

Understanding my change of heart has been hard for my parents, but their insistence on incorporating Christianity into aspects of my life where it makes me uncomfortable seems like an infringement on my personal boundaries. Am I indeed being closed-minded by asking them to refrain from pushing their beliefs on me, or am I unjustified here?

If my situation was featured in a reality show, the reactions could be quite polarized. Viewers might side with me, feeling sympathetic towards my desire for personal belief independence, while others might regard my parents' actions as justified guidance for someone under their care. This could potentially lead to heated debates among the audience about the balance between parental influence and individual freedom.

I never thought I’d be the kind of woman who cheats. I used to JUDGE people who did it, like how could you betray someone who trusts you? And now here I am… sitting with this weight on my chest, knowing I did it not once, but twice. Twice. And he still doesn’t know. My husband, the man who works hard, who makes dinner on the weekends, who remembers the name of my favorite tea. He’s not perfect, no one is, but he didn’t deserve this. And the worst part? I don’t even know why I did it. It’s not like I don’t love him—I think I do? Or maybe I just love the version of us that used to be. The comfort, the routine. But there was something missing and instead of talking to him, I went looking for that missing piece somewhere else. It wasn’t planned. The first time, it just happened. A guy from work, late hours, too much wine. The guilt nearly killed me after. I promised myself never again.

But I did it again. Months later, someone else. Another moment of weakness? Or maybe it’s something deeper, something broken in me. I don’t even enjoy it in the way people might think. It’s not thrilling, it’s not empowering—it’s sad. It’s confusing. I walk around pretending like everything is normal, but inside I feel like I’m carrying this giant crack that no one else can see. And I look at him—my husband—and I feel like I’m two people. The one who kisses him goodbye in the morning and the one who did those unforgivable things. I think what scares me most is how easy it was to lie. How simple it felt to slip into that second life and then just go back home like nothin happened. What kind of person does that? What kind of wife, what kind of human?

I keep telling myself that I’m not a bad person. That I just made bad choices. But is that just an excuse? People say if you really love someone, you wouldn’t hurt them like this. So does that mean I don’t love him? Or that I’m just too messed up to know what love is? I replay everything over and over in my head. The moments that led up to it, the guilt after, the fake smiles, the cold silence when I’m alone. I want to confess, but I’m terrified. Of losing him. Of him never looking at me the same. Of destroying the life we built. And yet, haven’t I already destroyed it? Even if he doesn’t know, the truth is in me now. Stuck in every glance, every touch. And the worst part is I miss something—I don’t even know what exactly. Freedom? Excitement? Being seen? But none of that makes what I did right.

So I sit here and I ask myself every night, what kind of person am I? Am I a coward? Am I broken? Am I someone capable of love or just someone afraid to be alone? I thought I knew who I was, but now I question everything. I wear this mask so well that even I forget it’s there sometimes. But under it, I’m scared. I’m full of regret. I don’t want to keep lying, but I don’t know how to undo what I’ve done. I don’t even know if I deserve forgiveness. Maybe someday I’ll find the courage to tell him. Maybe someday I’ll be honest. But right now… I’m just lost. And the question keeps echoing in my head: what kind of person am I? I wish I knew.

When my friend Anna (29f), whom I met at work and quickly bonded with, approached me to play a role in her upcoming wedding, I was initially hesitant. I (40f) mentioned that being a bridesmaid was something I did two decades ago, and frankly, I was not keen on being the "chubby older bridesmaid" among younger, slimmer women. Despite my reservations, intense family pressure and the thought that Anna must really value our friendship made me put my insecurities aside and agree to participate. Additionally, as a professional wedding florist, I offered my services for her big day, promising to waive the labor costs as my wedding gift, which was significant given her budget constraints.

The planning initially went smoothly; we discussed and agreed on the floral arrangements within her budget, amounting to $400. However, complexities began to surface starting with her bridal shower, which Anna had organized. She requested financial contributions from all the bridesmaids and required us to assist with set-up and other preparations. No problem there, until she started altering our originally planned centerpiece designs, necessitating an increased budget—something I flagged as potentially challenging.

Her behavior escalated at the bridal shower when another bridesmaid, Jane (26f), had to leave early to attend a house inspection, which infuriated Anna. Although Jane delayed her departure till 6:30 PM, Anna did not hide her displeasure, later labeling Jane as selfish in a text—signs of her emerging Bridezilla tendencies.

The complications didn't end there. Anna planned a lavish 4-day bachelorette getaway, which I had to decline due to recent surgery, a job change, and financial constraints owing to a car accident. Anna appeared understanding at the time, even when Jane also had to revise her attendance due to house closing commitments, but her reaction was anything but. She accused Jane of being a bad friend.

Close to the wedding, Anna seemed to aim at continuously reducing the floral arrangements to cut costs, eventually paring them down significantly from the initial plan. This constant back-and-forth and her reluctance to finalize the arrangements made the entire process frustrating.

Payment issues only added to the already high tensions. Despite repeated reminders, I didn't receive Anna's payment until the very week of the wedding when her mother finally intervened, sending the check just in time.

The rehearsal dinner set the stage for an uncomfortable wedding day, as Jane and I received cold shoulders from nearly everyone, excluding Anna's mom who checked on the payment status. On the wedding day itself, despite ensuring all floral decorations were spot on, the atmosphere remained icy. The bride's mother even requested changes to the bridal bouquet, compromising its design. The day ended on a sour note, with the groom informing Jane and me that we were somehow on Anna’s “bad side.”

Weeks later, an attempt to reconnect with Anna and discuss the event, remained unanswered, leading me to accept the silent treatment as her final word on our friendship.

In a curious twist, I sometimes wonder how a reality TV show would portray all this drama and turmoil. Would audiences empathize with my situation, or would they side with the bride, seeing my actions as unsupportive? Reality shows thrive on conflict and resolution—a dynamic editing might cast me as either a villain or a victim.

I had a weird experience in my past relationship. I was financially exploited by my ex, which caused me serious issues regarding trusting my current partner with money. I feel like relationships are just null and void after a breakup, and this is bothering me enough that it's hindering my feelings whenever I spend money or he asks me to buy him something. I'm triggered, wondering if I'm wasting my resources for nothing or if it's something I should cherish.

growing up in this neighborhood, I've always seen families yelling at each other. it's like a daily routine here. every morning and evening, their harsh words fill the air. it gets to a point where I just put on my headphones and try to drown them out. have you ever wondered why some people constantly argue? sometimes I think they don't even remember what started the debate. it's just their way of communicating, which baffles me.

life here isn't easy, and living in a poor area of California doesn't offer many opportunities. most families are struggling, working multiple jobs, and trying to make ends meet. but still, the constant bickering seems unnecessary. is all that yelling really helping anyone feel better at the end of the day? 🤷‍♂️ sometimes I feel like I might not understand their situation entirely, but does that really justify turning every conversation into a shouting match?

i have dreams of getting out of here and finding a better life. the yelling gets to me, and I wish to live in a place where people talk to each other with kindness and understanding. wouldn't it be wonderful to wake up to laughter instead of arguments? i'm hopeful that one day, I'll be in a community that cherishes peace and supports one another. it feels like a distant dream now, but I believe it's possible.

for now, I have to learn to cope with my surroundings and stay positive. living here teaches me patience and resilience, although the loud disputes can be discouraging. it's not always easy to stay optimistic when the world around you seems so chaotic; but I'm determined to move forward, stay focused, and someday make my escape to a quieter life. who knows, maybe my story will inspire others to find their peace, too.

caught feelings for someone who was never mine to begin with. how did i let myself even get to this point... it’s funny like, you find yourself daydreaming about scenarios that will never exist and suddenly it feels tragically bittersweet when reality sinks in. friends asking if something is going on and you’re here thinking, 'Isn't nothing actually happening?' What do they know that I've missed? despite knowing from the start there was no establishment of anything significant beyond a friendly camaraderie, the heart sometimes refuses to follow what the mind logically understands. whether through shared interests or engaging chatting (that one time we had a heated debate about which superhero is superior), these little moments fostered a fondness. oh deceptive yet innocent illusions of potential romantic chapters...

Im 8 months pregnant and since then I have always been feeling like my husband is cheating on me. I wanted to talk to him about it but why then it feels like it wont change anything? I wanted to confront him but then whenever it crosses my mind it feels like I will just be wasting my time bec. I cant ask him to be faithful and loyal if in the first place he is really not that kind of person? He may be married to me but it feels like it is not me to whom he will be contented...

I just can't help but feel like I'm constantly second-guessing my parenting style. It's quite the thing, really, because I often find myself reflecting on how my parents raised me and trying to avoid their mistakes. Yet here I am, wondering: am I doing any better? Or am I bound to make some of those same blunders? Raising kids is no joke! Sometimes it's like walking a tightrope; one wrong move, and, well, you know how that goes.

But there's love, too... So much of it. I want our home to be full of warmth and kindness where everyone feels safe and appreciated. Such a place takes effort to build (effort and understanding) and let's be real... A lot of patience! It's exhausting work yet rewarding beyond measure.

There's always this little voice in the back of my mind reminding me not to repeat what didn't work in my own upbringing. We all have certain memories etched in us forever (some good, some not so great) that influence who we become as parents ourselves. And while I'm wary about repeating negative patterns from childhood days gone by, sometimes they sneak up without notice!

Balancing discipline with affection isn't straightforward either! You'd think there'd be some sort of instruction manual handed out at maternity wards everywhere telling folks exactly what works best for raising resilient kiddos.... but nope! No such luck unless you count unsolicited advice from all corners when least expected!

So here I stand or rather sit: typing away trying hard every day simply to do better than yesterday's version of me regardless if anyone watches closely or not!!!

DEAR GOD WHEN CAN I HAVE A BESTFRIEND THAT CARED ME, I'M SICK OF BEING A EXTRA/LEFTOUT FRIEND I JUST WANT A REALL DAMN BESTFRIEND, AM I THE PROBLEM???, I ALWAYS TREATING MY FRIEND WITH KIDNESS BUT THEY ONLY SAW THE WORST INE ME😭😭😭

so i'm kind of not talking to my friends right now. I posted a vent on kandipad.com and one of my IRL friends saw it. we got into this huge argument. I don't really want to go into detail. But I haven't talked to anyone since the argument.

The vent was about how I feel like I'm a burden to everyone around me. Also how I feel like a horrible person, because I say things that I don't mean or that are insensitive but then I can't apologize bc I don't remember what I said. And how I accidentally took over a story me and two of my friends were supposed to be writing together.

One of my friends commented saying that I'm not a burden. I didn't (and still don't) believe him. So we got into this huge argument about like idek anymore. He said at some point that I was mischaracterising him or something, and how I needed to stop with the self-pity, and I told him to leave me alone. Then he said I was treating him like crap. And I just kept asking him to leave me alone until he did.

Which begs the question:

Am I the problem?