Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I have two sisters, and being sandwiched in the middle always puts me in the role of mediator. My older sister, Emily, faced a devastating loss in late 2022 when her 6-month-old son passed away from SIDS. Since then, she's been living through a grieving process that's nowhere near complete. My younger sister, Claire, is currently expecting her first child, a boy, and she recently confided in me about her plans for his name. When we were chatting at her place, she revealed she intends to name her son after Emily’s departed child, thinking it would be a beautiful tribute.

Claire was convinced it would be seen as an honor, but I instantly felt uneasy about it, knowing Emily would likely be heartbroken by this decision. I expressed my concerns to Claire, detailing that Emily might find this gesture not comforting but rather painful. However, Claire disagreed, dismissing my input as an overreaction.

Despite her intentions to keep it a surprise, I felt compelled to inform Emily, believing the potential emotional toll it could take on her was far too severe. Predictably, Emily was furious upon hearing the news. She felt that using her son's name was insensitive and too fresh a wound to touch. She was appreciative that I gave her a heads-up, admitting how damaging it could have been had she discovered it at the birth.

The confrontation between Emily and Claire was unavoidable. With the whole family backing Emily, Claire felt isolated and later called me, upset, accusing me of causing a rift between her and Emily. She was adamant about sticking to her choice, despite Emily’s pleas. Claire argued that seeing her new nephew carry on the name would eventually be seen as positive by Emily. I, however, couldn't align with her perspective and blatantly called her out for her insensitivity. This family drama escalated to accusations of me being the root cause of their conflict.

If this entire ordeal had unfolded on a reality show, I imagine the reaction would be pretty explosive, dominated by shock and disapproval from viewers. The tension and emotional complexity would certainly make for gripping television, sparking debates about family respect and boundaries in times of grief.

i’ve been thinkin about this a lot lately, like way more than i probly should, but i just can’t help it. i go to this school where so many kids are rich or like... pretty well off. not just talkin new clothes or fancy phones, i mean actual money. like they get picked up in shiny cars, talk about their summer trips to europe, have the newest gadgets before they even come out. nd then there’s me. my shoes are always a little worn out, i still got the same backpack since 7th grade, and when ppl talk about “weekend plans” mine are usually helpin my mom clean or babysit my cousin. my family’s not just “not rich,” we’re broke-broke. i don’t blame them or anything, they work hard, they love me, we just never had much. and while no one at school has ever been mean to me about it, not once, i still feel it. like this quiet voice in my head always whisperin “you don’t belong here.”

what sucks the most is that i do have friends. like, good ones. they include me in everything, they don’t care i don’t have name-brand stuff or can’t always go out when they do. they joke with me, they listen, they’re just... normal. and i try to act normal too. i laugh, i join in, i smile. but inside, i’m always thinkin about what i’m missing. i feel like i have to try harder just to be at the same level. if we’re doin a project, i work extra hard so they don’t think i’m dumb. if we’re hangin out, i make sure i’m funny or helpful or something, like i gotta earn my place all the time. and they never asked me to. they never made me feel like i’m “less than.” but that don’t change the fact that i still feel less than. i can’t stop comparing. even if i got the same grade or the same laugh, i still feel like i’m catching up to everyone else’s life.

i don’t even talk to anyone about it, not even my best friend. how do you even say, “hey, i feel small around you sometimes even tho you’re nice to me”? it’s not their fault i feel this way. it’s just... the way everything is. the way i grew up always worrying about bills or food or how to fix something ourselves because we can’t pay someone to do it. nd even when i’m at school, doing fine, gettin decent grades, i still feel like one wrong move and i’ll slip and they’ll all realize i’m not like them. it makes me scared to dream big sometimes. like, who am i to think i can be something? go to a big college? have a cool job? buy my mom a house? sounds fake when i say it out loud. it’s hard to believe in yourself when everything around you has always told you to settle. and even harder when you’re in a place full of people who already have what you’re fightin for.

so yeah, how to overcome inferiority complex? hell if i know. i’m still figurin it out. maybe it starts with stopping the comparisons, or reminding myself that money don’t make someone better than me. maybe i gotta start believing my friends actually like me for me, not what i have. i guess i gotta remind myself that i’m smart, i’m funny (sometimes lol), i’m kind, and those things matter too. but it’s not easy. some days it’s like carrying a weight i can’t drop. but i’m tryna be better. i’m tryna hold my head up even when my shoes are scuffed. maybe i don’t got all the stuff they got, but i got my own story. and maybe one day, i’ll look back at this and realize i was enough the whole time. just gotta keep goin. one step at a time.

I recently purchased a semi-detached home and it's turning out to be a massive project. Everything needs an overhaul, right down to the framework.

My neighbors keep to themselves; there’s a father and a daughter who has special needs, and there are mumblings of a son and a mother, though I've never laid eyes on her.

We've just begun remodeling the bathroom, which unfortunately adjoins the daughter's bedroom.

This bathroom is a disaster - we have to demolish and replace everything, including the plumbing and light fixtures. It’s a huge job.

We began demolition four days ago, and immediately, the noise triggered the daughter’s loud, piercing screams. Despite the clamor of our equipment and our own ear protection, her distress was unmistakable.

The next day, her father came over, rather upset, explaining that his daughter is autistic and particularly sensitive to disturbances. He mentioned that our drilling had shaken loose some of her possessions, causing breakage. I apologized, and he walked away somewhat relieved.

However, that evening he returned, furious after work, and berated me and my brother Jake, who’s helping me out with the renovations. He shouted about our lack of consideration and stormed off.

Yesterday, he appeared again, visibly angry, accusing us of being ruthless for continuing the work despite his daughter’s evident turmoil. I saw his daughter looking quite shaken, which made me feel sorry, but I explained we needed to press on with the work.

Today, he demanded we halt our noisy work as his daughter was struggling to recover from her ongoing distress. He looked completely worn out.

I apologized once more but told him that it's his responsibility as a father to manage his daughter’s reactions, and that our renovation schedule couldn't accommodate their situation indefinitely.

He left angrily, and since then, my pregnant wife has been ignoring me, labeling me insensitive and harsh. She insists that if it were our child, we’d expect understanding from others.

I acknowledge the father’s frustration, but my brother and I need to finish this job promptly, and it's just not feasible to stop now.

My wife is still upset, and I’m now sleeping on the sofa. The neighbors are clearly unhappy with us too.

Suppose I was on a reality TV show with cameras capturing these confrontations and my family's reactions. Audiences would probably be split. Some might sympathize with the need to progress work on the house, while others could view me as the villain for not being more accommodating towards a child with special needs.

Am I the bad guy here?

I'm wondering, if you were to put this situation to a public vote, what would people say?

I'm a 21-year-old girl, and have always had a tight bond with my elder sister, who's 25, despite our frequent disagreements. She's a bit of a perfectionist and tends to lash out when things don't align with her expectations. Recently, she reached out in the middle of the night as she started labor, requesting I care for her puppy. I agreed, and she painstakingly laid out detailed instructions, one of which was to ensure the puppy wore its safety harness while outside.

Complying with her instructions, I later took the puppy outside then back in. However, I didn’t remove his harness immediately upon returning. He dashed into the living room where my mother was engaged in a FaceTime call with my sister’s boyfriend. I finished removing the harness shortly thereafter, but it wasn’t quick enough. My sister, informed by her boyfriend of the slight delay in removing the harness, sent furious texts accusing me of neglecting her dog. Her outrage escalated to a phone call, during which she branded me as lazy and unreliable, and demanded my mother and I vacate her home. Furthermore, she decreed we would not see the newborn until we had regained her trust.

Around 2 AM, we left her place. I attempted to discuss the situation with her boyfriend at his arrival, only to be dismissed with a curt, “We’re having a kid, you don’t get an explanation.” That night, consoling a deeply distressed mother, I pondered over the potential repercussions of my sister's actions—her boyfriend missing crucial moments at the hospital due to her unfounded allegations, the impression my mom’s torment made on her in-laws, and the overall strain on family relationships.

The next morning, my sister called to apologize, attributing her overreaction to stress and hormones, and invited us to meet her baby. Although the visit proceeded without incident, she questioned my subdued demeanor. I expressed how hurtful her actions were, noting how her hostility and the subsequent eviction left a sour memory for all involved. Instead of acknowledging my feelings, she defended her actions, reiterated her offensive remarks, and asked me to leave. Our communication ceased thereafter.

I can’t help but reflect: if this familial drama unfolded on a reality TV show, would the audience be sympathetic to my predicament or view it as an overreaction? The public often relishes dramatic confrontations but also values strong familial bonds and understanding, especially during pivotal moments like childbirth. It's unclear how others might perceive our situation under the heightened scrutiny of a televised platform.

I'm scheduled to attend a wedding this autumn, and I sent a message to the bride, Elaine, informing her that I would already have my boho braids styled for the occasion and wouldn't require the professional hairstyling being arranged. I also offered to adjust the style of my braids to whatever she preferred, acknowledging that she might want a uniform look for all the bridesmaids.

Elaine replied, suggesting I wear my natural hair instead to maintain a consistent appearance among the bridal party. I am the only African American bridesmaid, and I pointed out that natural styles might inherently stand out. Besides, my natural hair can be quite unmanageable during day-long events, which is why I preferred my braids. Despite this, I openly communicated that I'd be more comfortable with the braids, hoping for her understanding.

However, Elaine hasn't responded to my last message but has voiced to others that she feels I'm being overly self-centered. I've been actively involved in the wedding preparations, from organizing her bachelorette party to assisting with her bridal shower and tackling various other wedding-related tasks along the way.

Now, I'm torn. Should I cancel my braid appointment to align with her wishes for the wedding day? Or should I go ahead with the hairstyle that makes me feel confident and at ease, while still being willing to style it as she wants?

Adding to this, imagine if this situation unfolded on a reality TV show. Likely, it would draw significant viewer attention, becoming a focal point for discussions about cultural sensitivity and personal preferences within wedding traditions. Cameras capturing live reactions could escalate tensions or perhaps lead to a touching resolution where diversity is embraced and celebrated. This televised angle could drastically shape public perception of both myself and Elaine.

Imagine if I was seen as trying to assert my identity, or if Elaine was perceived as inflexible? The dynamics could tilt audience sympathy one way or another based on how sensitively the issue is handled on-screen.

Should I keep the braids or go natural for a friend’s wedding?

I chose the "friendship" category, I was tempted by the category "Bridezilla".. 🤫

I feel a lot of affection toward one of the doctors who treated me. In fact, I feel a sense of care that neither my father nor my mother had ever given me. I feel affectionate, loving, and for the first time, I don't feel like speaking ill of parental figures as I always have, and that makes me happy. I confess that I never liked speaking ill of my parents because I felt it was denigrating my past, my person, that part of me that was made up of them, but I couldn't help it.

In fact, I confess, I'm sorry to be writing about them like this because I feel it's distancing me from them, and I don't want to do that. I don't want to distance myself from other parental figures again; I'm not interested in doing that. I feel like I want to be with them, not cause them any inconvenience, no fights, just follow them blindly. Yes, that's exactly it.

I feel like I've put all my critical tools to work distancing myself from my parents, which was my greatest wish. I didn't want that to happen again. In fact, that's why I feel like these doctors are like paternal figures, and I feel like they've adapted me in some way. It fulfills me in part because I feel like they're replacing my parents, but I can't help it.

How can I not give them credit for being paternal figures if they've earned it? Even with their example. They're inclusive of me. I even feel like I'm part of the family, where I'm taken into account, where I'm a priority, where I'm taken seriously and with care. I feel like this made me feel completely cut off from the family. My parents were always willing to make me feel marginalized, but these doctors, on the other hand, make me feel like I'm part of something, that there's a system that loves me, that appreciates me, that wants me alive. With my parents, I felt like that was impossible because I was born among them, which didn't seem fair at all.

I never felt like part of the family. They never allowed me to. No matter how hard I tried to get inside, they kept me defensive about my parents. I simply had to keep quiet because it was them, as if they were the perpetrators of a massacre to which I was condemned without any salvation. Even with my family, they closed the door on me and left me in a dead end. I can't ask the doctors to play my parents, however, I see an interest in them in making me their son, given that, for some reason, I see that they have lacked that possibility, mainly due to their spirit of justice, commitment, and friendliness, which precisely constitutes a burden that is very difficult to compensate.

In fact, with another of the doctors, I feel a relationship, also familiar, in terms of a courtship, but it goes beyond that; it's even familial. The group of doctors who treated me feel like a kind of family that somehow adapted me, that opened their doors to me. I don't understand why. It's as if, despite the treatment having been completed, they had adapted me given the conditions I expressed regarding my parents, as if they weren't acting as caregivers, as if their job served as an excuse to fulfill that position from the perspective they can offer. Their pain over my situation, even though they didn't express it, was harsh, and this time, unlike what they could do with their friends or with someone other than the patient, they couldn't distance themselves from it, given that their duty was to care for me, and it remains that way. It's as if the grieving process they had to endure regarding me in order to transition to other patients had never ended.

It's strange. So, I have a new family, but the question is: How is this? Why did it happen to me? Why did I have to transition to a new family? This happened without anyone's permission; no one wanted this to happen. We're all giving in to our impulses just like that. We all turned our backs on the issue because there was no excuse to escape, but this time it's not possible. How could this have happened to me? Isn't it easier to walk around without family? I don't even see these doctors; they're distant. I vaguely know them, because of life's circumstances, on the same level of appreciation with which I view my parents. Why is it that I value them as family? I feel that the same distance I maintain with my family, I maintain with them. In fact, this doctor, who I didn't specify as my father but rather as my sister, was so distant, uncommunicative, she was my sister. What surprises me is that I experience this simple pattern of interaction as a substitute and satisfying family. I mean, I can't believe my family is so easy to replace. In fact, beyond them, I don't know anything, a question I experience with my blood family itself.

Is it that in my family, we are so empty? The doctors have given me vague interaction. Exactly what I've felt with my parents regarding working together. Is there so little in my family that unites us? The family relationship between us has been practical Especially that of us being in a work environment where my sister and I are the clients. How could this union have happened just like that? I can't believe my family is so simple and vague. I can't believe it. I can't believe I can replace it so easily. In fact, I feel more confident with these vague details.

I can't believe what I'm experiencing. And just like that, this emerged out of nowhere, just like that. With barely any planning. Furthermore, with selected personnel, I'm talking about doctors, for their work skills. What the heck was my family back then? I swore we were much more complex. Not one you could easily get anywhere. It makes me feel like my family, what we had between us, was just anything. Frankly, I can't believe it.

I feel like there was really nothing between my family and me. Not even with my sister and my parents, just a sad pity that camouflaged it. I never thought I'd discover this. Furthermore, the same frequency with which I see my parents is the same frequency with which I see the doctors I consider my parents. In fact, I trust the female one more, and she's the one who is open and concrete, a bit of a leader, just like my mother, and the male one is rude, drastic, but with a certain measure of restraint, and also authoritarian at times. I can't believe, I insist, that the same core group has formed as when I was at home, which for me was unstable and unstable, just as I experienced at the place where these doctors treated me. Furthermore, with the doctor I feel like my sister, equally distant, eccentric, lonely, and forced to do what she was doing to survive. I can't believe, I insist, that I've encountered the same core group of people.

What is my family then? A group of random people? What the heck did we have at home? Parents who propped up the situation as best they could, trying to get by without any success beyond support, and a sister who did whatever it took to look good with them and everyone else, while I was simply at the mercy of observation and finger-pointing. I insist, I can't believe the same modus operandi developed that existed at home; having, in other words, an emotional and rebellious inclination between my sister and me toward the world. I insist: What the hell did we have at home? Why did we have this at home? How could we have had such a simple, vague, and dysfunctional way of living together? Dysfunctional given that there was no review of the family's destiny despite the elements against it. What did we have at home? Simply, everyone pulling for themselves. The doctor I consider a father was distant from the case and didn't express it, like my mother. What did we have at home? It was everyone for themselves, after all, a sad attempt for each of us to survive. How could we have been so simple-minded? In this family, as a nucleus, there was no depth whatsoever. My parents, besides wanting to look good to those in authority, as always, and being clever at making one look bad, and acting as an inclusion.

No I'm not the Joker. I had an unnecessary argument with some trolls online. It made me realize that I hate how everyone's an asshole and no one wants to have conversations or be civil. Even is always in the right even if they're wrong, especially influencers, they can't take accountability for their actions at all. I hate how billionaires get a free pass on taxes while some people in my country are debating between rent and food. I wanna go back to pre-iPhone era or go back to when we had trains. To be honest, I'd rather not exist at all.

hi uh I dont know why I decided to do this bc all I wanted to do was vent to someone but I wish I could just go back to therapy. but um basically I have been having some problems with my dad since I was about 10 (I'm 13 btw) uh sometimes it would just feel like he wouldnt listen or pay any attention to me and I feel like sometimes he just picks on me I guess.. uh this week I have been non stop thinking about why he hates me bc all this week before I go to bed he says something that just makes me break down or sometimes have an anxiety attack but its ok uh bc I have my mom I guess who is barely home enough for her to protect me from my dad bc she has work she always has work and I'm always just sad I'm always sad and my dad just makes me just flat out depressed I've tried therapy but I just couldn't speak about it bc she thought I was there bc I joked on a ai chat abt kms bc I wanted food bc I was starving and I didn't eat that day and my dad told me to WAIT so he could finish cooking dinner and wouldn't even let me have a snack. recently I've been just crying myself to sleep bc it feels like he hates me and I don't care anymore I hate him and I hope as soon as I get to the age I have enough money to move out.

I feel like a girl tried to trick me. She was a girl in great need of affection and love who wisely approached me at a time when the sequence was crucial in my life, recently, with an issue that was suspected to be a tooth problem. The girl hugged me, kissed my cheek, caressed me, made sure I didn't leave. In short, she welcomed me maternally at a time when I needed it most. Besides, I was with my mother and father, and they definitely didn't do that. She went so far as to listen to me, understand me, and actually value my music, something my parents simply rejected.

I feel like she abused her profession to do this. What would she have been capable of with that girl? All of this left lasting scars on me later. Why did she have to approach me like that? I feel like she hurt me so much. She was on the verge of jeopardizing my job, my life, everything. Why did it have to be like that? Also, having told her I was suffering from a psychological disorder. Damn, really, that girl was the one who hurt me the most. Why did she act so recklessly like that? Any inappropriate treatment becomes dangerous for me, whether it's on my part toward others or from others toward me, given the lack of control it caused me. I feel like her attitude wasn't right.

I feel overwhelmed, overworked after that experience. Who was that girl? Why did she treat me like that? Until recently, she practically had me at her feet. I feel like this wasn't right. I even thought I was in love, for God's sake! How could that be possible? I feel cheated, and I don't doubt that she knows about these kinds of methods. Besides, she was the kind of girl who makes special moments.

For God's sake, how far was this going to go? Now I feel like I just want her to go away. I was about to throw myself into a fierce void, into hell. I didn't know where I was going, I had no idea of ​​the consequences. I was willing to go without any consequences! I never want to see that girl again in my life! The girl had me captivated. For God's sake! For God's sake, why wouldn't she answer or bother checking my WhatsApp? Besides, after acting so maternal and close, she suddenly abandoned me and made me look bad. Holy Mother of God! Where was this girl going to take me? And at a time when I was feeling bad! This is the worst thing that could have happened to me!

Dearest friends, why the hell did this have to happen to me? I felt like I was on the way to ruining my life, my sacred life. Don't people get tired of trying to ruin my life? For God's sake. She had already tried to ruin it recently. My calm, my most sacred calm, was about to be ruined, destroyed, shattered again. Where would I get trapped? In what, for God's sake? What could I possibly do under these circumstances? I already felt this girl was a danger from the start. And the worst part is that everyone there adores her. Why did someone like that have to touch me? Why? What did I do? I wanted peace of mind. There's no justification for this behavior. I've never done anything like this, have I? Could I have been a narcissist too?

I could already see that girl betraying my trust, making my life hell. I already felt cornered by her! I already felt she was shattering my expectations to the hilt! I felt she played with my feelings! That girl did this recklessly, even before surgery! She was also extremely silent and acting as if nothing had happened. What the hell would I run into if I saw her again? I already felt I had to escape from something. Why did I have to fall into this hell? This was the worst. That was the worst thing those doctors could have done to me, the worst, for God's sake. They gave me a monster present! And the worst part is that I was standing right in front of my mom, and my mom hadn't done anything.

The worst part is that it was at a time when I was completely out of my depth, for God's sake! I thought I was good, different, a bitter illusion. I was already surprised that I was the most popular! Of course! Everyone is safe from her! I already felt like I was losing control because of her. And I was already thinking about going all the way to where she worked! It makes me faint. This can't happen to me. What the hell is she still doing now, for God's sake? Plus, she's sucking up to my parents! She's acting the good guy! The woman was swarming me, for God's sake. What trap could I have fallen into? I was walking right into a trap. This can't happen to me. It can't be. This isn't fair. Why do so many people want to destroy my life? I'm tired of escaping. And in a medical service? For God's sake, I never want to enter that girl's life. I feel like I could die from this. Why did this happen to me? Attacks from all sides, for God's sake. On top of that, playing with my mental health, being deteriorated, begging for help, this is the worst thing the system could have done to me. I never thought that at my job I would be they're going to send me to a place like that, with that quality. I feel like I'm going to die of rage, of sadness. I mean, even in that service, they abused me. This can't be what happened to me. Everyone took advantage of it to tear my life apart.

And I'm justifying to this girl that I was different! She had me in a frenzy! How far was this going to go? I never want to remember this girl again. Never, ever. And pretending to be good, in love, saintly, different, that she doesn't judge. Am I really that annoying? It happened to me at my previous job, also with some girls. How far is this going to go? How far is this going to go? It can't be. It can't be that they won't leave me alone. I refuse to believe it. I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack because of this. And the worst part is that when I was in that service, no one protected me. To the point of succumbing to a hell from which no one was going to get me out because of the prejudices against me, which they truly are. I just tried to present true facts in a way that people couldn't refute without proof at hand, as it should have been, and also transparent to others. For God's sake, I was almost falling.

On the verge of losing almost everything. It can't be that this happened to me during my treatment. Even during my treatment, right when I should have been calmer. Now it was with this girl, who do I reveal this to? And then with someone else? I felt like an unprotected child again, at the mercy of madness, without parents even though they were there. I mean, it can't be that I was truly alone in those circumstances. I really don't understand. No one was protecting me from going to hell, no one, even though I needed to, even though I wasn't fit to handle myself.

And my psychiatrist yesterday told me to drop this treatment thing! Is everyone trying to make me fall? Everyone? This can't be happening to me. Seriously, this can't be happening to me.

I have a lot of emotions right now, and I just really need to share with someone. I don't want to burden any of my friends with this because I don't want it to seem like I am making a big deal over nothing. I just have a lot hitting me at once right now and I need to get it off my chest. first off is the thing that is bugging me the most right now. my family has been doing foster care for a while now. one thing I have noticed since we started is that I generally try not to get attached to the kids staying with us. foster care almost always ends in the kids being away from us. which is not a bad thing, it just means that the kid's parents are doing better so they can be reunited. which is usually much better for the kids. however, as a foster sibling, it makes it much harder to say goodbye after living together for so long. this has caused me to put walls up and not get too attached so that it doesn't hurt as much when it is time to say goodbye. well, we currently have a little kid staying with us who has a lot of medical needs. this kid has been staying with us for quite some time. he had to be brought in to the hospital today and then flown to another hospital that is fairly far away from us. we had no clue that this would end up being the case. anyway, it is killing me because of how much I miss him right now. the kid has turned into a real brother for me. I miss him and I am worried that he will be stuck in that hospital for several weeks again. the first time that he had to stay up there for a few weeks didn't affect me too much. for some reason it is making me really sad this time. it is making me genuinely scared of having to say goodbye. if I can hardly handle this, I don't know what I am going to do if he goes back to his family. I am worried about the kid and I am genuinely starting to love him like a little brother, and it scares me.

the second thing I needed to vent about isn't as big of a deal, but it is still getting under my skin. I have to start my junior year in high-school in two days and I am dreading it. I have been in denial and trying not to think about it, so I am not mentally prepared whatsoever. I don't want to go back because school and the dual credit classes I have been taking are mentally, physically and time draining. I have had a little break over the summer, and I finally feel relaxed and like myself again. I have been able to enjoy myself without being in a state of complete exhaustion all the time. I am not ready to let that go. I am also terrified for all the big tests I will have to take at the end of the year. this has all been stressing me out, but the thing that gets me the worst is how scared I am to grow up. I am trying to enjoy my childhood as much as possible, which is extremely difficult to do when all my time is filled with school work and chores. last year I felt lucky if I got to watch an entire movie in one go without loosing a bunch more sleep than I already was. I am terrified to have to be an adult because everyone talks about how horrible it is. I have tried to bring that up to my parents but my dad always just says that it only gets worse as you get older. I don't want to have to be an adult and be constantly miserable. I am trying to enjoy the last few years I have left to be a kid, which is very difficult with how little free time I have. I just want to stay in my room and never go back to school

I been trying to figure out how to even say this without sounding like I’m tripping over my own feet, which honestly is kinda how I write anyway, so maybe that fits. I’m 27, a guy, and for two years I been with this wonderfull dude who is so completely, wholeheartedly, intensly aligned with everything "pride." Like he waves the flag, he quotes activists like “Love is not a crime,” he goes to events, he paints tiny rainbows on plant pots for fun, and he does all that stuff with this sweet energy that should make me feel lifted but instead sometimes it just makes me shrink. Not because I don’t love him, God, I do, but because I don’t assume my gayness. I feel like I’m the opposite of pride, like a walking “don’t look at me” sign, and I wonder if anyone else ever sits in a room full of cheering people and thinks: “Is it okay that I’m scared?” He’ll smile at me in that soft way, and I keep thinking, I wish I could smile back bigger; The thing is, I wasn’t raised to be open about anything. My family doesn’t hate gay people or whatever, but it was this strange “we don’t talk about emotions” house, and I guess I inhaled all that silence like dust. So when my boyfriend says stuff like, “We should go to Pride this summer,” I can’t help panicing a little. But I wanna be polite, I wanna be a good partner, so I try to say yes even if my voice cracks. One time we were holding hands at a bus stop and this kid smiled at us, and he said it was beautifull, but I thought my heart was gonna jump out my mouth like some cartoon. Still, I’m trying, and maybe that’s something. I keep telling myself hope is a slow-growing thing, like those stubbron plants that only bloom once a year. Do you think it’s possible to love someone with your whole chest but still fear the space your love takes up in the world? Because that’s exactly where I’m standing, like on the edge of something I wanna want more confidentley. My boyfriend says I’ll get there "when I’m ready," and maybe he’s right. I’m not proud, but I’m not hopeless eitherr 🙂

Anyway, the second thing I wanted to talk about, and please don’t judge how messy this is because I warned you I’m a terrible writter, is how sometimes the simplest moments make me feel like maybe I’m changing without noticing. Like we were in the kitchen last week, burning pancackes because neither of us knows how to multitask, and he said, “Hey, you know I don’t love you because you’re proud. I love you because you’re you.” And I swear something in me cracked open but in a good way. It reminded me of that line in a book I read once, “Courage is just fear that has said its prayers,” which felt weirdly fitting even though I’m not religous. I told him about how I still feel like hiding sometimes, and he said he does too, which surprised the hell outta me because he always looks so steddy. I’m trying to hold on to that thought: even the proud ones get scared. Maybe being the opposite of pride doesn’t mean being broken, maybe it just means being in proggress. I try to take small steps: letting him kiss me in public when no one’s around, talking about my feelings even if the sentences come out crookedd, trying to breathe through the panic instead of shoving it down. And I wanna be polite to myself too, which I’m learning is harder than being polite to other people. So here I am, asking you, any of you reading, do you think someone like me can someday stand next to someone like him without feeling like I’m a shadow next to a fire? I’m hopeful. I really am. Even if my hope still feels like a begginer...

I’m dating this guy right now. He’s absolutely amazing and deserves the world but I want to break up with him. Not because I don’t love him anymore. The thought on breaking up with him makes me sad. But I’m not in the right mental space right now. I feel exhausted and tired and just done with everything. I told him multiple times that I feel like that before dating but he kept pushing it and now we’ve been dating for a couple months. I made the decision to break up with him because I think it’s best for me and him. How do I do it?

Before my wife, Evelyn, and I tied the knot, we meticulously discussed crucial aspects such as our living arrangements, handling familial issues, and parenting philosophies. We wanted to ensure that our core values aligned, avoiding potential deal breakers down the line.

Notably, we reached a consensus on one key financial aspect: as long as our children were enrolled as full-time students, they wouldn't need to contribute financially to the household. They would still be required to help out with household chores, of course. Conversely, if they chose not to pursue further education, they would be granted a six-month grace period following their academic or professional pursuits. Post this period, they would need to start paying rent which we decided would equate to a quarter of what they'd earn at a full-time minimum wage job.

This agreement was forged back in 1998 and held firm with our children. Our eldest, Michael, after high school, chose to work, save up, and then travel the globe rather than attend college. Upon his return, he embarked on an apprenticeship and is now successfully established as a welder. Our daughter, Lisa, pursued a degree in nursing and secured her position in a reputable hospital. However, our youngest, Tom, dropped out after his first semester in college and displayed no interest in working thereafter.

When the six-month mark post his academic dropout came around, I informed him of his need to start contributing financially. Distraught, Tom sought empathy from Evelyn, and to my surprise, she waived his financial responsibilities without prior discussion with me. It’s important to note that Evelyn manages our finances, including the household bills which I contribute to from my income, and any surplus she earns goes into her personal expenditure or our joint vacation fund.

Feeling undermined, I decided to reduce my monthly financial contribution by the amount equivalent to Tom’s supposed rent and one-third of our food expenses as a form of protest against the unilateral decision made by Evelyn. This sparked significant tension between us. She confronted me about the sudden decrease in funds, to which I explained my stance on being consistent with our original agreement, highlighting her deviation from it without mutual consent.

Consequently, Evelyn had to dip into our vacation savings to cover the shortfall, also curbing her personal spending significantly, which only added to her frustration. Accusations of financial manipulation were thrown my way, and she ventured to gain the support of Michael and Lisa, both of whom sided with me, insisting on the importance of upholding agreed-upon family rules.

Evelyn's decision and my response could be seen as a critical plot twist if this were to unfold in a reality show setting, likely provoking a polarized response from the audience. Viewers might side with her compassionate approach or might applaud the firm stance on agreed-upon family protocols.

Who do you think is right in this family disagreement?

I recently joined a playgroup that my sister recommended, where parents and their daughters, aged between six and eight, gather to socialize. Although all of us are in our thirties and forties, our financial situations differ significantly. My husband is typically the higher earner among the group, having a demanding job that compensates well. While none of the families seem outwardly distressed about financial matters, there's an unspoken acknowledgment of our varying budgets. No issues had surfaced over the past two years until an incident involving a seemingly innocent purchase of purses.

During one of these gatherings, I noticed that all the little girls, except for my younger daughter, were flaunting new purses. I was conflicted about purchasing one for her since she's slightly younger than the rest, yet I didn't want her to feel excluded. To resolve this, I decided to buy matching designer crossbody bags for both of us. My daughter was thrilled to have a bag just like mine, something that made her incredibly happy without understanding the brand's value.

However, the reaction I received later was unexpected. Once we returned home, I received a flood of messages on our playgroup chat. Apparently, my choice of expensive bags was perceived as a show of wealth, which upset some parents, particularly After one mum revealed her daughter now wanted a similar expensive purse for her upcoming birthday—a request they couldn't afford. My intention was never to make anyone feel less, but it seems I inadvertently did.

Reflecting on this, I can't help but think about the implications of such actions. What if this scenario played out on a reality TV show? One could imagine the drama and the mixed reactions from an audience watching manipulated narratives and competitive parenting unfold, sparking widespread discussion about socioeconomic issues, parenting styles, and the innocence of children caught in adult conflicts.

So, considering all these viewpoints, am I really the one at fault here?

My friend Elena recently invited me to prepare a traditional Thanksgiving dinner at her home in Italy, where we both live. Though originally from China and having spent over two decades in the U.S., Elena wanted to host a Thanksgiving feast for a group of 12, doubling my usual guest count of six.

Crafting an authentic Thanksgiving meal in Italy is tricky; there's no easy access to canned pumpkin or cranberry sauce, so everything must be made from scratch. Thankfully, over the years, I've managed to gather the necessary dishes, tools, and spices, and have aligned with suppliers for harder-to-find ingredients. Cooking is a significant part of my life here.

Elena lives in a lavish home with her British husband, and their financial situation is more affluent than ours. Despite some initial hesitation due to the stark contrast in our lifestyles, the thought of cooking in a beautiful kitchen and the joy of sharing this festive tradition with new friends persuaded me to accept her invitation.

However, soon after agreeing, complications emerged. Elena proposed we hold the dinner on the Sunday before Thanksgiving for convenience, which I agreed to given that we are in Italy and flexibility seemed reasonable. But then, Elena suggested that when shopping for ingredients, I should cover half the cost, and she'd reimburse me for her "half". This unexpected financial imposition took me by surprise, especially with the scope of the tasks I was already committing to—planning, shopping, cooking, and teaching.

When I expressed my inability to meet her funding proposal due to budget constraints, Elena wanted to simplify the menu, reducing it from the full spread of turkey, fixings, candied yams, roasted veggies, an appetizer, and pie. She even made a disparaging remark about her friends not "eating like pigs" and had another guest make the pumpkin pie with my recipe to avoid buying the ingredients herself.

Considering Elena and her husband's wealth—they could easily spend more on a spontaneous lunch than the cost of the entire dinner—the situation felt increasingly unfair. Her actions seemed to reflect taking advantage of my good will. I’m left feeling that stepping back and declining her terms might be necessary, given her attitude appears both manipulative and ungracious.

If this scenario unfolded on a reality show, viewers would likely be divided. Some might sympathize with my position while others could perceive a dramatic confrontation as entertaining, possibly rallying behind me for standing up against what could be seen as exploitative demands. There could certainly be cheers for setting boundaries.

So am I wrong for refusing to financially contribute to this dinner or let myself be pushed around? It seems like protecting my peace of mind from this toxically charged situation is paramount.

I might just bow out and explain to her that I'm uncomfortable with how things are progressing—feeling stressed and manipulated isn't what this holiday should be about.