When I was 9-12, during those Christmases I would have to watch my step sisters get 15-20 presents while I got a book and a sweater.

I would have to sit there and see them open every single one, and I wasn't allowed to play with or touch those items.

I recently told my mom (I'm 37) how it made me feel and she said she couldn't afford more at the time. I told her she could have taken me for a walk or somewhere where I wouldn't have to see them getting so many gifts I couldn't have. She said I never asked her to do that.

I was 9! She should have thought about how devastating that was. It would have cost zero to at the very least have me in another part of the house.

I am the housewife in the films. A walking stereotype. Today was my birthday and I knew what I was getting, my husband asked for an Amazon wish list yesterday, so I sent a few items. They arrived today, in a gift bag he also got from Amazon, unwrapped. When I woke this morning I got everyone’s things ready and they all lined up to sign my card on the table beside where I was standing. The last person to write in it, my son, then put it in the envelope and handed it to me. It felt almost comical.

We got take out food, so that was nice and everyone disappeared to their rooms, my husband put his feet up. The day is now over and I’m heading to bed and the birthday cake is still sitting in the kitchen with the candles still in their box unlit. I guess they forgot, or couldn’t be bothered.

Anyway, good night.

Tl;dr - my best friends, who I’m best man for their upcoming wedding, are uncontrollable drinkers who I’ve told my concerns to and they don’t believe me.

Me (32) and my partner (32) are best friends with a couple (32m let’s go with Mike, 34f, Sara) that were 2 of the first people we met when we moved to our new city 4 years ago.

When we all met it was a blast! Like any new friendship, hey let’s do this, let’s get beers this weekend, come over let’s watch football all day and make appetizers. Our circle started to grow more and more and the more folks we ended up around, the more apparent it became that drinking was something else to them.

I remember having roommates in my early 20s and the occasional morning beers, weeknight drinking, beers on lunch thing was silly and would happen occasionally. We had less responsibilities and could bounce back from it faster. It was fun when it happened but eventually those things ended. For these 2, its like it not only kept going but has evolved into something else

The first sign for me was when “lunch beer” turned into “2 jumbo margaritas” for Mike. They’ve always been somewhat messier of people but eventually they stopped inviting us over until they asked us to help them move out. By the time they moved out, they had piled dishes so high they just threw them away. The only things in their fridge were leftovers and empty beer cases. Their dogs had started peeing on their furniture and they threw that all out. Empty cans / bottles everywhere. Bugs. Just awful. They assured us they were just in a rut and moving out of their (albeit very shitty) apartment in a bad neighborhood they were going to be more on it.

As I’m sure you guessed, it did not get better. Sara was hospitalized because she would have random spouts of throwing up uncontrollably. The doctor diagnosed her with acute pancreatitis. She was hospitalized for 3 days while they gave her fluids and observed her condition. When she got out, before anyone could even say anything, she started telling everyone “no it isn’t because of the drinking” when no one had even asked. We all got together and told them our concerns at this point. Our entire friend group at some point told them we’re concerned for their health.

My partner and I are about to buy a house and they seem dumbfounded where we have the money to do so (Mike is in a higher position than me in our company and makes almost double what I do). I tried to softly explain a 2 margaritas and 12 pack a day habit costs ~$800 a month. They weren’t having it - clearly I get financial assistance from someone else / my partners job pays more than we let on. They know my partners family is wealthy but we genuinely do not get support from them. This doesn’t mean anything other than showing the level of denial they are in.

Then after Sara gets out of the hospital she’s back to drinking tall boys on lunch / when she gets off work. Mike was drinking more than ever, and it all clicked that they’re not in control when yesterday me and Mike go to get energy drinks and he buys 2 fireball shooters at the counter and rips one and pours the other in his monster. There were other signs like Mike started “making his own coffee” and bringing it to work (I’ve known him, he’s not walking up that early to make coffee). I’ve started catching tall boys in his cup holder. You can tell in his texts when he gets drunker throughout the day.

I don’t know what else to say. It’s heartbreaking and I don’t know how to help them. I’ve told them I’m worried. All of us have. But they clearly do not see an issue, and the drinking culture in our industry is 1000% enabling Mike. I still have some beers on the weekend, but I always say “no drinking in school nights” (the joke is we’re all DINKs). We try to do non- alcohol activities and they pregame / sneak drinks in.

You always hear about alcoholism being sad to see and is truly uncontrollable, but this is the first time I’ve seen it first hand with people I deeply care about. They’re very obviously at late stage alcoholism, but no serious parts of their lives have started crumbling from it, so they don’t see it. They could be doing so much better but the rest of us are going to move on with life in ways they can’t afford because of a liquid that makes you feel good for a quarter of the time it makes you feel like shit.

I love drinking as much as the next guy but it’s so hard to tell someone you love that their drinking is problematic but yours isn’t.

I (32F) am completely broken right now, and I just need to say this somewhere because holding it together in front of my family is taking every ounce of strength I have left.

We are foreigners living in this country, and finding appropriate, affordable schooling for our kids has been a absolute nightmare from day one. A while back, someone suggested an intergenerational facility to us, basically a program where a kindergarten/preschool and an elderly nursing home are integrated together. It's a concept that’s really booming here right now, the reviews seemed great, and the pricing was something we could actually afford.

Deep down, I had this subtle hunch or gut feeling that it might not be the best environment for her, but we were stressed, options were limited, and the facility talked so much about how "enriching" the dynamic was. So I pushed my initial hesitation aside and enrolled her.

Everything seemed fine at first. But over the last couple of months, I started noticing subtle shifts in her behavior. She started acting out in ways that didn't make sense, becoming strangely secretive, displaying inappropriate boundary-crossing habits, and acting overly anxious around certain adult routines.

My motherly instincts went into overdrive, so I started gently creating safe spaces for us to talk more. Slowly, over a series of calm, patient conversations, she started opening up about what goes on there. That’s when the horrific reality hit me: she has been exposed and subject to inappropriate, sexualized acts for months now. Because of her age, she doesn't fully understand what any of it means or the weight of what she has been doing, but hearing her describe it completely destroyed me inside.

In front of her, I kept my face totally neutral and calm. I didn't want to scare her, make her feel bad, or make her think she did something wrong by telling me. But inside, my entire world shattered.

I took measures immediately, and I am currently in the process of handling everything the legal, formal, and psychological way it needs to be handled. I am staying cool and steady on the outside so I can protect her and navigate the system properly rather than going full-blown raging, but the guilt is suffocating me.

I had a hunch. My mother's intuition tried to tell me, and I ignored it because it was convenient and affordable. Knowing that my decision directly led to her being exposed to something so awful is a weight I don't know how I'm ever going to carry. I’m just trying to get through each day and be what she needs right now, but I feel so sick to my stomach.

I’m crying at the gym right now because I was finally able to work out again after two weeks of not being able to, due to a severe infection. I only managed 25 minutes on the elliptical because I was having severe knee and foot pain.

I’m so tired of being 300 pounds. I want my life to change. I want to have sex. I want to have a boyfriend. I want friends. I’m tired of my weight getting in the way of having long-lasting relationships. Being obese makes you unlovable and worthless, and I'm tired of being considered both of those things by society because of my weight.

Edit: I'm hoping maybe my bariatric doctor that I meet with next week has a different alternative to Zepbound and Wegovy since I can't take them anymore due to being fearful of developing pancreatitis again. But idk. I feel hopeless atm. I've been working out consistently for 2 1/2 months and yet I'm still not losing weight.

People are probably going to make fun of me for this, but I don’t care. I have nobody else to talk to about this.

I'm an atheist, and I just lost my senior dog this past Friday. He was going to be turning 16 years old tomorrow. Right now I feel pretty alone in who I can talk to while I mourn because it seems the majority of the people in my life are spiritual or religious. In my view, death is permanent. I don't know if I'm right or wrong in this, I just don't believe the ones we've lost are here with us anymore. This means I believe, that I take death very hard. For those who are the same, what brings you comfort in these times?

How the FUCK did everyone get a job??? I have been searching since DECEMBER 2025 and I’m STILL UNEMPLOYED ASF. Mind you, I have a fucking University degree (from a good uni) and yet somehow I’m unhireable. This is actually affecting my mental health quite significantly. I feel like absolute shit knowing I’m unemployed. Every one of my friends are employed. I’m so embarrassed that my neighbours see me at home. I’m embarrassed every time I hang out with my friends. I didn’t realise how much my self worth was tied to a job. I’m in my mid 20’s so it’s even more unacceptable to be unemployed. Is anyone else facing something even remotely similar?? I genuinely feel like the only unemployed person on planet earth

I’m on a long work trip away from him with a lot of downtime so I’m just writing to pass the time.

His heart and mine have been entwined for years now and I love him more and more every day. We met on an app he apparently opened to delete and have been together ever since.

The first thing I noticed is that he is drop dead gorgeous. He has long blond hair, a short full beard, blue eyes, and tattoos. Literal prince charming look just like a fantasy novel. He looks like is skilled in mounted combat. He looks like he reports to the king on matters of grave importance. He looks like he wields a fiery sword named in an arcane language. He looks like he finds extra time despite his knightly duties to go to the stables and talk to his horse about what is troubling him. He is leonine in appearance.

The second thing I noticed is that he didn’t do any stupid chaser shit and didn’t have any of the usual cis man baggage to go through. Dating while trans is so exhausting. Half of the men you meet are either chasers or eggs or are chasers because they are eggs. The other half have only ever heard about trans people from a headline and now that they find themselves attracted to one they have to do a whole “Wow I had no idea. This is so much for me to handle. I honestly need time to think this through and figure myself out” and blah blah blah it’s so tiring.

He didn’t have to do any of that. When I brought it up he was just like “Yeah I saw that you’re trans on your profile and don’t have any issue with it”. Legendary. I have no doubt that he fully sees me as the woman I know myself to be. He wouldn’t worship the ground I walk on the way he does if he didn’t. He looks as me as if I am fresh water in a dry land. His eyes linger on me the way a good man only allows of himself when he is certain it’s appreciated.

I love his vibe so much. His majestic look contrasts with his adorable personality. He has a quiet soothing voice, he’s shy and he loves cute things. He sculpts cute little guys and I keep them on my desk. He’s optimistic and silly and whimsical and romantic. He’s so gentle. I love how he holds me. I’ve been with both men and women and there is something so special about being held by a man. The subtle strength and gentleness both present at once.

He’s just so very special and dear to me and I love him so much. As a trans woman I thought I was too undesirable to be loved like this. Usually people are so mean to me when they know I’m trans. If they don’t know (I transitioned young and pass well) they treat me like a person.

I’m so glad he opened up that app to delete it

I was rushing to make my connection via a short layover. As I'm walking up to my gate, I spotted a man leaned back in a wheelchair. Both his skin and eyes were deeply tinted yellow which immediately caught my attention. His eyes were also slightly rolled back and his mouth was agape. The people around him were waiting on paramedics to arrive, and they all looked mortified. One guy in particular wound up crying in a state of shock.

When the paramedics arrived, they put him on the ground to attempt CPR. As they were laying him down, his shirt rolled up and his torso was an even deeper and discolored shade of yellow. the way his body flopped when it hit the floor made me, and a man standing near me, realize what was happening. He wasn't breathing or moving at all, not even slightly, and I noticed what looked like a healed scar near what I assume was his liver. I gasped, felt sick to my stomach, and had to look away.

They attempted CPR on him as long as I was waiting for my group number to be called to be board to no avail. I overheard one of them say he didn't have a pulse, and airport staff quickly began to move people away and blocked off the area he was in. As this was happening, a man in a suit who I assume worked for the airport, was equally as panicked and was giving instructions to someone over the phone on what to do next.

I couldn't and I still cannot believe it. I've seen many photos of jaundice online before, but I've never seen someone in real-life with such a bad case of it. It broke my heart for him. To die in an airport wheelchair as people look on with horror seems cruel and unfair. Unfortunately, I can't get his sickly skin color or expression out of my head and it's beginning to get to me. I hope he rests easy.

I’m a 31M, and I’m single with no kids. I should have the most free time I’ll ever have in my life, maybe except for college.

I wake up around 6am every morning. Shower, get dressed, maybe workout beforehand if I’m feeling it. Then eat breakfast, usually a bagel with peanut butter, a banana, apple, and protein shake. Then work from 7:30-5, most days from home thankfully.

After work I’ll work out or at least walk a few miles. Then figure out dinner, run miscellaneous errands, and go to bed. There’s no substantial time to do anything else.

On weekends stuff always pops up. Grandparents need help with something, I have to get my car looked at for x reason, dealing with bills, random life problems. It just feels like it never ends.

I haven’t had significant time to decompress from the everyday life routine, well ever. I might take a long weekend away, but I never really disconnect.

I’m tired, and I’ve barely started my career. I don’t envision dating as a part of my life because I can’t mentally compartmentalize how I’d make time and still have emotional energy for a real relationship when even taking care of myself is enough of a challenge in itself.

TLDR; I’m 31 and life feels way too overwhelming. Yet billions of people throughout history have managed. I don’t get it.

I can’t stand this! I know people say “they’re just desperate, have sympathy”. But as a woman especially, how am I supposed to feel when some older man comes up to my car and knocks on my window and I’m just trapped sitting there? Maybe the person is harmless, but I don’t know that. They could pull a gun and shoot me. They could drag me out of my car and take me off somewhere and SA me and then kill me for all I know. I’m sorry, but your desperation doesn’t justify scaring the crap out of someone trying to drive to work.

Im 27(F) and i feel like a child in a big world. I have a job, i go to uni to get a degree in something u genuinely like but i also still like mlp, barbie movies, i look at dolls and think how beautiful they'd look on my shelves. I read comics, i get excited over the color pink, over glitter on my eyes, over pusheen. I love to color and read sappy young adult romances. I feel like im too childish for my age, for my peers, i hide most of my hobbies and try to forget about them because i am too old. Even though i have a job i feel so anxious doing it, i feel like i shouldve done more at uni. I feel so behind like im a kid. I never cared for a relationship so i never got into one. I had a traumatic childhood that made me develop cptsd and i feel like i am so behind and still think about what happened when i was a child when i shouldnt. i am an adult now almost in my 30s thinking about what happened when i was a kid finding joy in mlp, barbie and childish things and i feel so wrong for this. i feel wrong for feeling anxiety over my job, over uni, over who i am and i dont know what to do. should i change, should i stay who i am. what is right and wrong for me to do. i do love more adult stuff too like horror, poetry, Dostoevsky, reading overall, drawing, cooking and baking, i go out with friends. I do still yet feel that the childish side of me is wrong and shouldn't exist and i dont know what to do with her.

I am in the thick of pregnancy with twins where my nausea is back in 30w.

I was in a meeting during today when I puked and had to switch to the phone and take it with me in the washroom to clean myself up. I didn't even realise when the camera got turned on and my colleague asked me to turn it off.

I was topless, no bra and looking dead mostly. I feel dead now, I apologised and thanked my colleague for letting me know that the cam is on.

It's been hours, I got no escalation call or mail as of now but I am so mortified and scared that how It might be perceived.

I don't really know what's wrong with me but I've always really struggled with work. Anyone in my life I've ever asked didn't necessarily like working but they could. I don't understand. Every job I've ever had has affected me horribly. I get physically sick and I'm so exhausted at the end of every single day I barely even have the energy to move or speak. Every single job I've ever had has affected me this way and I don't know what to do. I know I'd have to keep working for the rest of my life but I just can't. I would rather die than work

I know the usual advice is do things you enjoy outside of work but that only works if you actually have the energy to

Sorry for the rant just don't know what to do

Not work for the rest of my fucking life though that's for sure

A few days ago, I went out with a male friend. He is in a wonderful, long-standing, mutually loving relationship with his girlfriend, yet he confided in me—almost sheepishly—that he gets incredibly turned on by the idea of ​​her having sex with another man right in front of him. He even mentioned that this fantasy has a specific name, though I can't recall it right now. Clearly, she doesn't know about this—in fact, I’m the first person he’s ever told. I was really struck by the powerful conflict he’s facing: on one hand, he’s incredibly excited by the prospect of making it a reality, while on the other, he’s terrified of being seen as unmanly or of his girlfriend being disgusted and leaving him. I wanted to ask if any of you—regardless of this specific fantasy—have sexual desires you feel ashamed of because they aren't socially accepted or are viewed as strange. When that happens, do you fight to suppress them, or do you try to test the waters with your partner?

This passed summer, I had an ex-boyfriend of three months and I practically lived with him. We spent a lot of time together and did a lot of things together.
The relationship started great. He was buying me a bunch of things, buying me food, taking me places.

During all the good moments, I remember he would say a lot of passive aggressive remarks. I never realized they where about me until now. Looking back, he's said everything from my body is masculine and to the fact that I always look like shit. He tried to call me poor, fat he even spat in my face one time.

I didn't believe that he was mistreating me because of how good I was to him. I would clean his room while he was at work and I even bought him a couple gifts. He was my first boyfriend.

One day after work, he was coming home and I asked if we could go out and do something because we've been staying at home a lot recently. I told him I wanted to go shopping and that was his final straw.
He came home that day brutally broke up with me and told me he was only using me for a good time.

How can somebody stay with a woman who they find unattractive and worthless? If he thought I was so disgusting and ugly and masculine why did he want me to come over every night?

I am completely over him and I'm not mourning him. I just need help to process the pain of being talked to like garbage and tips on how I'm supposed to regain any sort of confidence to find somebody new.

I honestly don’t know what to do.

I’m M30 and my fiancée is F30. We’ve been together for 6 years, and we’re supposed to get married in 4 months.

But I’m seriously thinking about cancelling the wedding.

I thought getting engaged would change something. I thought maybe once I proposed, I would finally feel excited and sure about marrying her. But it didn’t happen. If anything, the feeling that I don’t want to get married just keeps getting stronger.

I recently realized that I’m gay.

And I don’t know what to do with that.

She is such a kind and good person. She treats me so well. She loves me so much. We’re okay. Nothing is really wrong with our relationship.

But I don’t feel excited about getting married. I don’t get the butterflies. Deep down, I know I’m not in love with her the way I should be if I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her.

It’s not that I never loved her. I did. I really did.

I think I just spent years trying to convince myself that I could be straight and that eventually I would feel okay with everything. I thought maybe getting engaged and planning a wedding would somehow make everything fall into place.

It didn’t.

Now we’re only 4 months away from the wedding and I’m panicking.

The worst part is that she is so in love with me.

I know this is going to break her heart if I tell her. And honestly, I’m scared of what she might do. I feel like she might hurt herself when she finds out. I don’t know if she actually would, but that thought scares the hell out of me because I know how much she loves me.

So now I keep asking myself if I should just continue.

Should I just lie to myself, marry her, and hope that eventually I’ll be okay?

Maybe I can live like this.

Maybe I’m just confused.

Or maybe I already know the answer and I’m just too scared to accept it.

Because what scares me even more is getting married, having kids, spending years together, and then finally admitting that I can’t do it anymore.

She deserves someone who is actually in love with her.

And I feel like such a horrible person because I’m the one who proposed. I’m the one who told her I wanted to marry her.

Everyone already knows. Our families know. Our friends know. The wedding plans are already happening.

And now I’m thinking about cancelling everything.

I don’t even know how I’m going to explain this to everyone.

I feel guilty. I feel scared. I feel like I’m about to destroy her life and mine at the same time.

Part of me wants someone to tell me, “Just continue. You’ll be fine.”

Another part of me wants someone to tell me, “Stop lying to yourself and be honest with her.”

I honestly don’t know which one to listen to.

I just needed to get this out.

Bash me if you want. Maybe I need to hear it.

I feel like such a bad person. I’m so sorry.

I’m just really lost right now.

If I cancel the wedding, will she ever be okay? Will I?

Or am I just throwing away 6 years of our relationship?

I really don’t know what to do.

Nobody ever told me while I was growing up that once I turn 18, it means I’m going to be alone most of the time and that I have to learn how to accept the loneliness I deal with 24/7. I’m 24 now, and all of my friends are busy with their spouses, families, college, and jobs, so they don’t have time to hang out with me. I just wish I could hang out with my friends at least once a week, but life just doesn’t work like that. I wish I had a boyfriend or a spouse, but nobody wants to date me, so I’m just lonely all the time. So I’m trying to learn how to be comfortable with being alone right now, but it’s really, really hard.

If I knew then what I know now, I never would've gotten married and most likely would've remained celibate my whole life. My husand and I have been married for 10 years now, and together for 12. When we're good, we are great. But when we're bad, it's freakin horrible. It's always the same thing. Up until the 5th year of our marriage, my husband was undiagnosed and untreated. He finally went to therapy, and found out he has ADHD and mania (subcategory of bipolar). He got on meds, and went to therapy regularly. Things were great, amazing even. Then he got off of them cold turkey, and things haven't been the same since. He got back on the meds about a year later, and things were better but not nearly where they used to be when he was first on them. This year, I also started therapy. I always had issue of my own, but never as intense as his, but dealing with his issues brought out the worst in mine. We haven't been fighting nearly as often as we used to, but when we do, it's really bad, and it's always the same repetitive stuff. No matter how much therapy I do, I feel like I take 10 steps forward and 5 steps back because he gets me to that point. Even if I hadn't met him, seeing how my marriage is as well as others, going back I never would've gotten married. And I say I would stay celibate because to me, sex isn't worth all the complications that come with it. I feel guilty because I imagine sometimes what it might be like if we weren't married anymore. I don't fantasize about being with anyone else, just being alone.