Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

i’m a high school senior and i’m dating a guy younger than me. he’s had one other girlfriend and people have told me they hooked up but we’ve never talked about it. ive had other boyfriends but i never had sex with them, though i have been assaulted outside of a relationship. i alluded to this when he asked if i was a virgin - prior to this event happening. we were talking for around two months and basically dating already when he was over at my house for the second time. we were watching a movie and making out, it was going fine. we had kissed before but not much more than that. he whispered in my ear “would it be so bad?” and i didn’t know what to say. i asked him what he meant but i knew, i told him it was too soon and gave the excuse that he’s too young (im a year and a half older). he told me no one would know and said he was consenting, but i just told him i didn’t know if it was a good idea. his hands made it into my pants and i asked if he was a virgin but then he paused and made an odd face before shaking his head. i went back to watching the movie but he asked a few more times. i just went silent because i didn’t know what to do. i kissed him and turned back around, the first time he came to my house he did the same thing to the point i took him home because i was upset. when he asked if the kiss meant a yes i didn’t say anything but then he pulled my pants down. i didn’t say anything because i just froze up and my heart was racing and i was scared but idk. he put it in and asked if it hurt and i didn’t respond even though it did. at one point i must have been so freaked out that he got scared too and pulled out, i think i was reliving something but this was a while ago. i felt a lot of emotions but i couldn’t or wouldn’t i guess say anything. i forgot what happened but he went to the bathroom and came back and i felt very conflicted. he noticed something was up and kept asking me what was wrong until i hugged him because i didn’t know what was wrong. i drove him home but after dropping him off i cried all the way home and sat in my driveway. i thought a lot about it for the next few days and i felt extremely conflicted, i cant even put a name to the emotions i was feeling. i told my best friend a week later thinking it would be fun gossip or something but i also felt like i needed to tell someone and she was disgusted. i started crying and she told me that it wasn’t okay but i wasn’t mad at him. he’s been through a lot so i feel very bad for him sometimes and he’s younger so he doesn’t know a lot and i couldn’t bring myself to agree with her about him assaulting me. the next few times he was over he kept asking and i said no, i texted him about a month later explaining how i was assaulted and i didn’t like that he was pressuring me when i already said no. he apologized a lot and it hasn’t happened since. we’ve been officially dating a couple months now and we’ve hooked up more, but i kind of feel like it hasn’t happened again because i haven’t said no again. i’ve talked to a few more of my friends about it and they all look sad and tell me it’s not okay. i just love him a lot and he’s very very sweet to me so it just doesn’t feel like assault. i don’t feel any kind of way about it right now but a while ago my best friend brought it up again and i had a meltdown so maybe im just blocking it out. she hates him and refuses to be around him over this. i haven’t considered breaking up with him over it and i haven’t voiced any of this to him, i just wanted to see what people thought.

It's a real story from a few years ago. About my dog Dakota.

I went to the animal shelter with my mom. We were going there cause I asked to see the cats. I had a cat at the time name Crystal. I think I was around 10 during this time.

As I was looking at all the fresh faces of the cute kitties.

There was this crate in the lobby.

Poor little guy was brought back by their owner due to the owners mom having cancer or something. Which I could totally relate to in the future.

But back to the story.

My mom was near the crate. She peered inside. Then boop! A small nose popped outta the tiny mountain of blankets. Then the rest of the snout, then Dakota's large, brown, cute eyes found my mom's. He then popped his whole head outta the blankets. He has one ear up and one ear flopped down. He had a white diamond shaped fur patch on his forehead. Sorta like the pretty jewel things that Indian cultured people wear. But this fur patch was just part of his pattern.

He was so cute and tiny. A Chihuahua mix. I think he was round 6 months old. But tiny.

My mom instantly bonded with the little guy!

All this happened while I was looking at the cats.

When it was time to leave... As I was skipping down the steps. My mom stopped. She looked at me. I stopped. I looked at her. And she said, "do you wanna get a dog?" I thought she was joking. So I sorta laughed it off. Cause my mom wasn't known to be spontaneous. At least not that I knew of.

When I realized that she was serious... I jumped for joy, bounded up the stairs. We got the little tot. And the rest was history.

Until 5 years later...

Dakota was know to use his nose a lot. Smelled anything, anyone, and any-any, until he smelled the wrong thing.

A pile of fungus.

It went to his brain. He couldn't walk. Couldn't eat. Wouldn't hold his fluids.

So, we had to put him down. Actually... My mom had to at the Vets. I couldn't be in the room due to the stress.

Over the years, my mom and I always said, "it was his nose that brought him to us, and it was his nose that took him away".

So, be careful with your pets out there. And watch out for fungus. They're not good for the brain!!

My dad was always there for me except in the ways that i wanted him to be.

My school was paid for, there was food on the table, clothes on my back, and everything I needed growing up. In some ways he did his job as a father but when it came to me emotionally the parts of me that needed softness growing up till today he was never there. I can't remember him ever telling me he loved me. Even now it feels strange to say out loud.

As a little girl I used to wonder what it would feel like to have a dad who asked me how my day was, who hugged me for no reason, who made me feel safe enough to talk about anything with him.

Most of our conversations have always been about school and my grades. Whether I'm focused. Growing up that's what mattered to him. That and religion. If you stayed on track, if you prayed, if you got good grades, there was peace in the house.

We live in the same house and yet i feel like he's a stranger sometimes. How can two people share the same space for years and still know so little about each other? He barely knows me even though he thinks he does, you cant know someone you never speak to. I wish we could talk like a normal father and daughter. About simple things. About life. About how we're doing. Without it feeling forced or awkward or like we're both waiting for it to end.

Sometimes I wonder if it's my fault for not trying harder.

But then i think isn't he the parent? Isn't he the father? Shouldn't he be the one to take the lead, to reach out, to make it easier for me to come to him?

Instead there's always been this distance between us. Now when he travels sometimes I think about calling him. Just to ask how he is but I never do. It feels unnatural like trying to build something from nothing. I wouldn't even know what to say so instead I hear about him through my mum.

And sometimes I feel guilty for how distant | am because I know he's not cruel. His parents raised him with toughness and he became a father through that same language. Providing and protecting

It would've been nice to hear it once in a while. To hear him say "I love you" To feel known and understood by him.

How do you build a relationship with a parent when there's always been distance?

hello I'm just here to rant honestly, lately I've been feeling like I wasn't as loved as my siblings...? maybe its only a matter of POV but after hearing things of their childhoods and witnessing my younger sibling's it feels like I was never treated like that, I'm a middle middle child if that helps.

All of them has at least one picture up on our wall and I don't have one that was really specifically just me apparently they lost all my childhood photos but still has my older sibling's?? I know it's stupid im already in my late teens and jealousy is eating me up, they're all talented and smart at whatever they do too, I have multiple hobbies but I wasn't exactly that great at all of them and it just made me feel even worse.

I used to be able to hold in my feelings and emotions but as I grew older I just became more sensitive and everyone noticed, I feel like im just wasting their time and all, they've always been disinterested in me anyways.

I've always found my gifts for them (flowers i found, drawings, origami) in the trash, and it really confused me to see that they still have my sibling's art even if it's just one, was i really that bad? I used to wish i got hit by a car or get sick so they can actually pay attention to me i believe the earliest was by age 6, I can't even communicate with them properly now, I just want myself to be acknowledged not just the lazy, moody, sensitive kid they have including everything I do, I've always pushed myself to atleast have a talent im good at, I've joined many clubs and activities but that's not enough I guess. I've sacrificed sleep for tests to get scores they'd be proud of, nothing.

i think I'm just stupid at this point.

My sibling's felt similarly to what I've felt but it really didn't look that way honestly :( maybe it's just me I'm not sure.

I've been compared to my siblings ever since i grew up by alot of people. i only realized now how lonely i felt as a kid, I never had anyone that close back then and I was just the annoying noisy younger sibling towards my family and distant relatives that are close in age.

I hate whenever they tell me I'm talentless compared to my siblings, they sugarcoat it but I know. They love me, but sometimes I feel like I don't know them and they don't know me.

Sometimes I wish I can have a long deep sleep and forget about everything.

I recently went on a trip to Europe with one of my best friends. I think the whole experience confirmed that I am meant to be alone. She was critical of everything. We only had a few weeks to plan the trip, but she did not bother to do any research. She asked me what my budget was and I told her about $2,000- she agreed. I tried booking hotels with that in mind. When we get there she starts complaining. First, she complains that it is cold. We went to UK in the middle of winter- so it was going to be cold. She knew this ahead of time. She also insisted on traveling outside the country. Then she complains about the hotel, I booked and said it was small. Then spends the whole time complaining about the cost of everything from food to public transport to shopping. It is one of the most expensive countries for a reason. When I go on vacation, I try to enjoy myself. This includes eating when I want to and thinking about my comfort. She would get upset about spending money on public transport, when we could walk. She also insisted on only having two meals/day to save money. She then confessed that her plan was only to spend $1000 on the whole trip. This pissed me off because she did not mention this before the trip. Then she goes on explaining how she does not have a lot of money to spend, since she just got married. She doesn't mention in this guilt trip, that this year she got married- had two weddings and has gone on multiple trips. She also then starts complaining that the hotel room is small and we could have gotten a better deal at a Hilton. Yeah- like we could afford a Hilton on her budget.

There were definitely fun moments throughout the trip. Yet often everything became about what she wanted to do. I started to feel guilty about the cost of everything. I also shut down when people get confrontational, thus I never pushed back when she started dictating what we do. For example, she is obsessed with creating perfect Instagram selfies. She isn't as bad as some influencers, but a majority of my time was spent being her personal photographer. She would ask, if I wanted a picture, however they were some of the worse photos I've ever seen. She asks for effort, but never reciprocates. My breaking point came when she made a big deal out of me taking the booth seat at a restaurant. She later stated that I always insist on doing that we should alternate who gets the booth. I only really had the booth once. I only sat there because my back was hurting because we walked to every souvenir shop in the city so she could find a deal on gloves, only to get mad when she was unable to barter down to her ideal price. At this point, I realized that we have maybe grown apart or at the very least have different travel styles.

I truly did not get upset until the final night. I was reading and she was on the phone with her husband. She told him how she wished he could have come with us--like wtf! She was the one who insisted on us going on this trip. She said it was "a girls trip." I even asked her, why she and her husband were not taking a trip together after the second wedding (they went on a honeymoon after the first wedding). He was busy with work and could not come. But apparently, she asked him to come with both of us on the UK trip. It just made me feel like a third wheel. This made me realize that friend has no respect for me or my time. I understand, her husband is her choice of travel partner; but in that moment I felt like I'm just the toss in character to her story. The worst part--I started believing it as well. That hurts!

Through this experience, I realized I needed to stand up for myself. I don't have many friends. I was scared of losing- what I thought to be-my only true friendship. I am shy and introverted and have no self-esteem. I also can be detached fueled by fear of rejection. I know these are all reasons it is hard for me to build relationships. I am also scared of being lonely. But, I deserve better than to be a side character in my own life.

i grew up believing something was off, but i couldn’t quite put my finger on it. it wasn't until i hit my late twenties and started therapy that the pieces clicked. both of my parents exhibit behavior that's frighteningly consistent with narcissistic personality traits. my therapist used the term “narcissistic perverts” once, and it rattled me, because it fit too well. not in a dramatic, made-for-tv kind of way, but in the slow, insidious kind of manipulation that wears you down without you even realizing it. it’s exhausting living with the constant feeling that your emotions are invalid, your achievements are never enough, and your boundaries are optional suggestions they feel free to ignore whenever it suits them 😒

my dad masks his manipulation behind a facade of reason and logic. he’ll say things like “i’m just being honest” or “you’re too sensitive” whenever i try to call him out on his emotionally dismissive behavior. growing up, he would tell me i was “too dramatic” whenever i cried or got upset, even if i had a legitimate reason. like when i came home from school one day in tears because a teacher publicly embarrassed me—his response? “you probably deserved it.” that sentence never left me. it etched itself into my memory as one of the countless times he made me feel small. he doesn’t scream. he doesn’t throw things. but his silence and cold logic cut deeper than any raised voice ever could.

my mom, on the other hand, plays the victim card like it’s her career. everything is always about her. if i tried to talk about a bad day at work, somehow it would spiral into a conversation about how she once had it worse. i remember mentioning i was struggling with depression in my early twenties, and her response was, “you don’t know real pain until you’ve been a mother.” i just stood there, numb. there was no space for my pain, only hers. she uses guilt like currency—reminding me of the sacrifices she made and how ungrateful i am for not calling every day. “after everything i did for you, this is how you repay me?” is her go-to line whenever i set even the smallest boundary.

what makes it worse is the gaslighting. when i bring up specific moments or confront them with how their actions made me feel, they either deny it happened or tell me i “misremembered.” it’s like arguing with a wall that changes shape every time you touch it. nothing sticks, and you start questioning your own perception of reality. this constant emotional distortion makes it hard to trust others—and harder to trust myself. even now, when my friends validate my experiences, there's still a little voice in my head whispering, are you sure you're not just being dramatic again? 🤷‍♀️

lately, i've been distancing myself. i limit contact to occasional texts and birthdays. part of me feels guilty—like i’m being a “bad daughter.” but another part, the part that’s finally learning to breathe, knows this space is necessary. healing doesn’t mean pretending it never happened or forgiving before you're ready. sometimes it means stepping back, protecting your peace, and acknowledging that some people—yes, even parents—are toxic. do you ever wonder how many people walk around thinking they’re broken, when really, they were just raised by people who shattered them without ever lifting a hand? if you’re reading this and it resonates, i hope you know: you’re not crazy. you’re not dramatic. you’re not alone. 🖤

I'm deeply in love with my friend, K. She's no shit EVERYTHING I've ever wanted in a person, AND she's the most attractive woman I've ever seen, I've never been so glad to be bisexual in my life. I've never wanted to care for and love someone as much as I do her. I want to love her and treat her the way she really deserves to be. She knows I want her and she knows a hint of how much I yearn for her (I'm wasn't overbearingly forward when I had admitted I wanted her), there's only one sticky issue. I've been not given a direct answer to my relationship inquiry, so I've kinda been jus left in this limbo of the unknowing. About 9 months ago I asked and she said she wasn't in the emotional headspace to be in a relationship, but she really likes me too. We've both made it obvious we find each other attractive, I compliment her at least once a day and she compliments me unprovoked too. She didn't ghost me after, we still talk frequently thankfully, and we even have plans for her to come down to my state to see me and my daughter. I'm not very emotionally or mentally stable, and one of my disorder's side effects is maladaptive daydreams, in which every one I have relates to her. If I want to fall asleep fast or I'm struggling to fall asleep, all I have to do is think about a situation where her and I are in each other's presence, it's a full proof method that has yet to fail me. I want to be able to provide for her and give her a comfortable, happy life. I want to sacrifice everything so she can have anything and everything she dreams of. With my explanation in mind, you you think I'll end up getting the girl?

it’s been a quiet kind of question growing louder in my head: am I transgender? I’m 25, biologically female, and for a long time, I didn’t really question that. I did what was expected — grew my hair long, wore dresses when the occasion called for it, and played the part of a girl just fine. but over time, small thoughts started piling up. I’d avoid mirrors some days, or feel oddly disconnected from my reflection. I don’t hate my body — it’s more like... indifference? like I’m occupying something that isn’t mine but also not foreign enough to fully reject. I hear people use “she” and it doesn’t sting, but it also doesn’t fit. when someone once referred to me as “they” by mistake, I felt seen in a way I didn’t even realize I craved. how weird is that?! is that enough to question everything?

I’ve been reading and listening to people’s stories — memoirs like Detransition, Baby and YouTube creators like Ty Turner and Jamie Raines — and honestly, their feelings mirror mine more than any cis woman I know. it’s not about hating femininity; it’s about not feeling entirely rooted in it. sometimes I think maybe I’m nonbinary, other days I wonder if I’d feel more like myself with a flat chest and a lower voice. it’s not dysphoria that screams — it’s more like a whisper that never shuts up. I’ve even tried visualizing a future where I transition, and surprisingly, it doesn’t feel scary or wrong. it feels calm. like breathing easier. but then I second guess myself — what if I’m just making this up? what if I’m confusing admiration with identity? ugh, does everyone go through this kind of mental gymnastics??

I haven’t talked to anyone in my real life about it yet. it feels too abstract, like I need more “proof” or clarity before bringing others in. but I know questioning is valid. I know that not being sure doesn’t make my thoughts any less real. a quote I read recently stuck with me: “You don’t have to have dysphoria to be trans. You just have to know who you are.” and I guess I’m in the middle of figuring that out. maybe this is a journey without a destination — just learning, adjusting, exploring. and for now, that feels okay 🙂 if you’ve gone through this too, how did you know? did it hit you all at once, or did it sneak up like it did for me??

So I don’t really know how to start this off but… my family all have addictions. All smoking or drinking. And I’m scared I might end up like them when I’m older.

So, my grandparents smoke cigarettes and cigars when they aren’t around the family and honestly I love that they hide it from us? Rather than just do it in my face and look at me. And I think they’ve tried to stop quitting so even more probs to them!!

Now my parents have always had a vape addiction.. first it started with weed/bongs stinking up the house, all the way to weed vape pens? And I’m actually so uncomfortable with putting that stuff in my body I VERBALLY tell them DIRECTLY I DON’T like it. And they still blow the smoke in my face?? I think it’s baffling after 10 years they just stopped caring about not doing it in front of me?? I remember them sitting in the bathroom of my old house, blowing smoke into the vents from bongs because they didn’t want me to know?? And I walked in on them doing that so i obviously asked(as the 7 year old I was). And they just tried to play it off saying “mommy just needs some relief”.. and then I soon started figuring out that they were smoking?? Not the same crap as cigarettes but weed?? I still think it’s disgusting either way and it’s made me grow a hatred for smokers, yes I know the nicotine is highly addictive but don’t you know how bad it is for your DEVELOPING CHILD to breathe in that smoke?? I think that’s why I have so many issues with my brain?? I don’t know though, it just really pisses me off and triggers me when they smoke around me. It makes me feel like I can’t breathe and I’ve had meltdowns about it because they can’t just NOT SMOKE around me, so we’ve compromised that whenever I was upstairs in my room they could vape in the living room. I’m still pissed at this because now I can’t enjoy my house and I’m trapped in my room all day, having to go downstairs in a smoke cloud?? And my dad still does it around me, making me yell at him and hate him more. He doesn’t respect me. He just laughs. And I know he’s trying to step up but I won’t forget what he didn’t do. Be a man for me when I was 7-13. I’m currently 13 for context and I’m just.. really mad and just sad?? Like I’m mad they won’t respect me but sad I call him my dad? I don’t know it’s just complicated and I’m just so frustrated and sick of him I have a shorter fuse around him.

And just last night he left the gas on the whole night, we all could’ve died so I’m pissed off. Even I could’ve (13f) known it was still on. And now the house is airing out, I’m not planning on speaking to him any time soon about “feelings” because he’ll just laugh in my fucking face like always and brush it off. I don’t feel seen. And I barely feel their love.

i don’t think i’ve ever truly enjoyed working. sure, i’ve had jobs that were tolerable, coworkers i liked, even the occasional project that gave me a sense of pride. but if i’m being honest, that’s rare. most days, i wake up and feel this dull, heavy feeling in my chest knowing i have to go to work. and it’s not like i’m lazy — i show up, i do what i’m supposed to, i meet deadlines, i get along with people. but deep down, there’s this constant voice whispering, “this isn’t it.” and i know i’m not the only one who feels this way. it’s like we’re all pretending that this is normal — spending 40+ hours a week doing stuff we don’t care about, answering emails no one wants to write, attending meetings that could’ve been a message. 🫠

sometimes i wonder if we just accepted the wrong premise altogether. like, why do we build our lives around work? shouldn't work support our lives instead? i once heard someone say, “we weren’t born just to pay bills and die,” and yeah, it sounds cliché, but it hits. i look around at friends, neighbors, even random people online — everyone’s exhausted. mental health’s in the gutter, burnout is the new baseline, and people still keep grinding like there’s some magical reward at the end of the tunnel. but what is it, really? a promotion? a bigger house? maybe a retirement plan if we’re lucky? the truth is, most of us are stuck in jobs that drain us, just to afford things that numb us enough to keep going. i’m not saying we all quit and live off the grid (although it sounds tempting on bad days 😅), but maybe it’s time we ask ourselves: is this how it’s supposed to be?

i try to stay grateful — i have a job, i have an income, and i know others have it worse. but still, it’s exhausting pretending that everything's fine when it’s not. people say “find something you love and you’ll never work a day in your life,” but that’s a joke, right? even stuff i’m passionate about turns into a chore once it’s tied to a paycheck. monetizing hobbies just sucks the joy out of them. and yeah, maybe this is just a rant, but it feels like we need to stop romanticizing hustle culture and start talking about how unsustainable this whole system is. how are we supposed to live meaningful lives when our best energy is spent on things that barely fulfill us? i don’t have the answers, but maybe asking the right questions is where it starts. so, do you really love what you do — or are you just surviving like the rest of us?

so I've been dating this awesome girl for about three months now and everything is freaking great. Like, honestly, I've never been this happy. But here's the catch - my parents don't have a clue that I'm into girls. Yup, I'm a lesbian, and trust me, coming out to your folks ain't a walk in the park. I'm 19, so I guess it's high time I spill the beans, right? But seriously, how do you even approach this whole "hey mom, dad, I'm lesbian" chat without having a mini heart attack? They're pretty chill folks but still, the fear is real.

I mean, we all know how these conversations usually go down. It's not like I'm gonna bust out guitar and sing "I'm Coming Out" by Diana Ross. It's more like an intense, awkward movie scene where everyone freaks out. Plus, there's always crap like the possibility of them flipping their lids or, worse, looking at you with that disappointed expression that's scarier than hell. But here's the thing, you gotta own it, right? You're responsible for your happiness and whatnot. And if someone suggests shoving this truth under the rug, eff that noise; this is your life. So, do you wait for the perfect moment, or just rip the bandaid off and let the chips fall where they may?

Have you ever felt like your mother is the source of your problems? Yeah? Me too. Like she is the fuel in the fire that I am drowning in. She is providing me all this warm and then burning me, leaving scars on the skin. My mother talks about toxicity, bad friends, bad life choices. She tells me how *I* feel. She doesn't know me, does she? No. She thinks she does, the cause of all my problems. The hopelessness, the pain, the anger that follows it all. I hate it.

I hate my mother.

I don’t know why, but everything I do is wrong for some reason. If i unintentionally do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing, move wrong, I get yelled at.

Only a few days ago, I had a few things lying around. I didn’t have to time to clean yet, I’ve been busy with school and work. Ofcourse, I got hit. It doesn’t hurt but it’s scary. Everytime I hear them yelling, I’m scared that they’ll come up to me and hit me, even if I did nothing wrong. I just can’t help but freeze or even flinch when they raise their hand at me yet they still wonder why I refuse to hug them anymore, like to be near anyone or for others to be in my space.

I often prefer to be at school rather than at home. I dread going home, I like it at school. I’ve recently gotten a really good review on my behavior. They told me I was an outstanding student. I liked it. My parents don’t ever tell me that because im not good enough to them and i know it.

Sometimes, i wonder if the reason why i hate personal touch within my family is something that I struggle with mentally, but don’t know about yet. I’m just really conflicted. I honestly can’t wait for the day I turn eighteen. Only a year to go. I really want to move out as soon as I can.

Hi.

I am in a relationship with my girlfriend for over 6 years now and I love her. When I met her she had a 3yr old son and we now have a son together. The issue now is that we constantly fight and we are drifting apart, I feel like I don't wanna be with her anymore and I have very dark thoughts, sometimes I wanna just end my life but I think about my son. I'm really sinking and I have nobody to speak to.

I have found comfort in playing with myself(wanking). I don't have friends, my life is just sad. The only reason I'm sticking around is because of my child, I really need help.

i am very insecure bout my body and all i can think of is how my bf would prolly be wishing for more or someone else. i might not be the prettiest or hottest to myself but i am sure that my body is uglier. i cant help it but to worry bout it more now that im in a relationship. i feel shit bout myself, i have no good grades, no talents or anything. it makes me wonder is hes staying only cuz i treat him right and im loyal cuz other girls werent. everytime we makeout i cant help it but to think "maybe hes thinking that the random girls he made out with had better tits and ass than me"or maybe thats why he follows girls with their clevage out or tits out in their profile? im so insecure that i could get a bbl done. my bf cant agree that i have big tits either. he doesnt even care to console me and it hurts that he doesnt give two shits, while i console him whole night staying up sacrificing my sleep for him while i have school, all he tells me is "dont worry you are hot" and literally thats it. i dont know who to talk to bout this cuz people will judge or say im overreacting but honestly it hurts at some point.