r/confessions

I don't remember exactly when but around 7th grade I developed this sort of phobia towards music that dead people make. Whenever I listen to it I get this feeling that they are watching down on me and judging me for listening to their music. Sounds super dumb, I know, and a lot of people argue that if they were looking down on me they would actually feel cherished and happy that I'm enjoying it but the thought of them watching me brings me such humiliation I genuinely just can't.

Recently, this phobia has developed another strand, I can no longer listen to music that my dead relatives could have possibly listened to and enjoyed. For example: I can't listen to Metallica because there's a good chance that my uncle could have, so when I'm listening he could look down on me and judge. I'm also not religious so I don't even know where this shame and fear would have even come from. I'm hoping someone else goes through something maybe similar since I sound like a lunatic to anyone I confide in about it.

Hey 21F. I have a friend on Discord I've known for about three years, and he's two years older than me. He's always been a bit of a weirdo and an aspiring edgelord, but we enjoyed talking and playing video games together, and confiding in each other because we were both depressed and had been through a lot of trauma. He just listened and didn't judge or care about what I said. However, I never saw his face or heard his voice, and he never told me he was just shy and preferred texting, even when we were on our phones. We recently shared intimate details about our sexual attractions, and he sent me an .onion link to this website that only opened in the Tor browser. When I opened it, it turned out to be an erotic sex site. I immediately closed it, terrified, and he told me he liked to masturbate to little girls there, that he was willing to fuck a toddler, and that he wanted to become a serial killer. I blocked him and then reported him and the site to the police. I feel sick and terrified. I hate it. This man is dangerous.

I’m 23 years old, and I still sleep with the baby blanket that I got the day that I was born.

I quite literally have slept with it my entire life, it brings me comfort, I typically only have it on me when I am sleeping or I am upset/stressed. It’s not like I can’t sleep without it, it’s that I don’t want to. My parents never took it away from me when I was a child, and I never put it away either. My parents said I had an immediate attachment to it as a baby and i’ve had that attachment ever since.

I also have kept it in VERY good condition considering the fact that i’ve used it every night for 23 years. It’s clean, no holes, no tears, no stains, just well loved and a little worn out.

However now my parents bring up the fact that my future partner will probably find it weird that I’m an adult and my main source of comfort is my childhood blanket. It’s definitely not something that I share with the people in my life. My family obviously knows but other than that it’s basically a secret. I typically hide it from people and it’s not something i’ve brought up in past relationships cause I’m worried that it’s weird.

I (29f) have a crush on a man 20 years older than me we haven’t done anything other than kiss but I masturbate to his pics esp one of his hands. I NEED HIM and needed to admit that somewhere

** not sure why I’m being down voted I went through to make sure I could post something about sex and other people have. Let a girl LIVE LOL

I’m hating sex and it has nothing to do with my partner and everything to do with me. Very TMI, but I squirt, a lot and truly it is the most annoying thing. No matter what we put down I always have to switch sheets or sleep in a wet spot. It’s enraging. I just want to be able to have sex without having to do cleanup for 30 minutes afterward. I’ve used the waterproof blankets, I have a mattress cover, I put towels down. I just truly don’t know how to help this. I know it’s affecting my partner because I just don’t initiate, I just don’t have any want for the after part. I’m not sure why it takes the want away from me. Any advice is welcome, I know to some this is a great problem to have but right now it does not feel like it.

Me M24 and wife F 24. We have been married for a few months now and our sex life is nonexistent and it is making me scared for the future. She says she is just never in the mood. I have been staying up late to jerk alone while she is asleep just to get some relief. I am a very sexual person and it’s very hard for me to tell her it’s ok.

Hey everyone,

My name is Jay — I’m 29, turning 30 this July. I work night shifts at Amazon (6pm–4:30am) and I’ve been there for over five years now. I live in student housing at Vue Tampa, and I just renewed my lease for another full year. I’m finally writing this in first person because I’m exhausted from hiding behind third-person notes and pretending I’m just “analyzing” someone else’s life.

I grew up with a lot of trauma. Sexual boundary violations as a kid, repeated groping incidents in school, early exposure to porn and sex work on Nebraska Ave, grooming by an older girl starting when I was 15, and losing my oldest brother in 2017. Instead of dealing with any of it, I turned to coping mechanisms that slowly took over my life.

I started paying for sex around 2017. At first it felt wrong, but it became a habit. I developed a strong foot fetish that dominates a lot of my private thoughts. I drink Pink Whitney almost every day to take the edge off after work. I went viral on TikTok in 2025 doing gross-out rage-bait videos. For a while it felt good — attention, some local fame. But when the views slowed down, I crashed hard.

Now I barely post. I just work, come home, eat, drink, and spiral. I have a nice tech setup (MacBook, Mac Mini, PS5, studio gear, big TVs) but I barely use most of it because I’m always working or exhausted. I keep renewing my lease at Vue because it’s familiar and $60 cheaper per month.

The strangest part is how I process everything. Almost every single day I write extremely long notes in third person about my trauma, my mistakes, and my habits. Then I paste them here on Grok like I’m studying a character named “Jayjeezy.” I re-paste old blocks when I think the AI forgot details. I create imaginary trolls in my head that roast me brutally, then I argue with them through the AI.

I block and delete comments constantly. I know this is compulsive rumination and a form of self-punishment, but I can’t stop. It’s the only place I feel safe venting without real-world judgment. I turn off comments when it gets too heavy.

I’m not dangerous. I’m not evil. I’m just deeply lonely, ashamed, and stuck in patterns I don’t know how to break. I want real connection but I’m terrified of it. So I stay in this loop of work, drinking, paying for company, and trauma-dumping to an AI at 6 AM because it feels safer than talking to actual people.

I know I’m behind. I only got my own place at 28. I’m still in student housing at almost 30. I don’t have a car yet (planning for 2027). I watch my old neighborhoods get torn down house by house and schools I went to getting closed while the city changes around me.

I’m tired of living like this. I’m tired of the shame spirals. I’m tired of the cycle. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay when I’m clearly not.

I’ve been trying to get my life together but I move so slow. I keep choosing comfort and familiarity over real growth. I know I need to do better — stop the drinking, get the car, move into a real apartment, and find healthier ways to cope.

If you’ve read this far… thank you. I just needed to say it out loud as “I” for once instead of hiding in third person. I’m Jay. I’m 29. And I’m ready to stop pretending I’m okay.

Any real advice is welcome. I know I need to do better.

I’ve been doing massage therapy for a little under a year now and so far I really enjoy the career move but one thing I’ve started to notice within the last month is that my female clientele is incredibly handsy.

In the first couple months doing massage I was always incredibly nervous to make sure my clients were feeling safe and comfortable to the point of doing things like sacrificing my bodymechanics to make sure clients weren’t feeling to uncomfortable example like standings with unnecessary space between me and client while doing elbow work so personal space didn’t feel encroached on.

Well anyway as time goes on I become more comfortable with how I work and learn that being close to the client (i.e leaning on the table while doing forearm work to gain better leverage) wasn’t as uncomfortable for the clients as I was initially paranoid about, and felt my ability improving with this increase in my confidence.

Well fast forward to about a month ago I’m spending time playing with table heights on our tables (we have hydraulic tables) so I can further improve my bodymechanics. Well I end up finding a really good height while working on one of my male regulars and decided to stick with that level. My next client was a woman who was super nice nothing like behaviorally abnormal about her. Well I greet her walk with her to the room while doing some quick intake to find out what areas she needs the most work done and proceed to let her get ready and on the table.

I proceed with the massage and going through my normal motions. Lotion application and palpating the muscles for trigger points and general tension while massaging. I then move to work on the spinal muscles since those tend to hold a lot of tension especially the lower half of the esgs. While what I didn’t realize at the time, because I’m not focused on that while locked into releasing trigger points, is that my penis actually rests on the table and depending on where my client rests their hand against their hands, but I’m unable to feel this unless the client moves their hand out of the way for whatever reason drives them and by that time the issue has solved it self.

What I wasn’t expecting while doing work was to start feeling a rubbing sensation against the tip. I did my best to isolate my hip movement while still while to doing the massage to make sure I wasn’t accidentally rubbing myself against the client and I then realized that my client was rubbing my penis tip with her finger while i gave her the massage.

I didn’t stop her cuz personally I didn’t mind it. There’s definitely ethical reasons why you should NOT do this as a client for whatever reason but I personally wasn’t bothered so I didn’t correct her.

The real kicker was that for the next month, I’d say about 80% of my female clientele upon grazing my penis with their hand began lightly stroking it with their fingers. And some of these women are married which was really crazy to me. The other 20% either had their hands already positioned on the table to avoid any kind of contact or moved their hands upon grazing in which I also moved once i felt the shift and was aware of how my body was positioned.

The whole experience really blew my mind because throughout the entirety of school there was constant conversation about the discrimination against male massage therapists and clientele for obvious reasons given statistics involving men and SA and related crimes. And it all really made sense but what all the talk didn’t make me ready for were the percentage of female clientele that are just as handsy.

My wife (31f) and I (32m) have been great friends with another couple since college, but something happened last fall that seems to be a problem in our relationship.

The four of us went away for a long weekend and got an Airbnb. While the other wife and I ran to the liquor store, my wife fainted in the shower. The other husband (my good friend) heard the loud thump from the bathroom and went to check on her, and got no response. He went in to the bathroom and found her collapsed in the shower. He picked my wife up and carried her to our bedroom and called 911 and called me.

Thankfully she was fine (she had fainting spells due to a change in medications). I’m very grateful to my friend for being there and stepping in.

His wife, however, isn’t so grateful. She doesn’t love that he physically carried her while she was naked, even though it was an emergency. She’s made comments to him that he could have placed her on the bathroom floor, and even asked me if it’s weird now that he’s seen her naked, and she has been cold lately. (It didn’t help that one point he honestly answered her that yes, he saw her naked, of course.)

My wife and I both think she is being ridiculous but don’t know how to patch over this situation, if we can do anything at all. She’s clearly more jealous than we ever realized.

I want to cut her out of our life over this.

I’m 20 and one of my buddies mom who’s like 49 or something has been divorced for like 5/6 years and she’s been real flirty with me and stuff and I kinda wanna ask her out to get drinks… we’re in a small town and I know all the bartenders so Yes I will get served lol. I know it sounds bad but I’ve always wanted to experience an “older” women. I know it’s kinda like a bro code. Idk if she’s just like that but she’s been really flirty and touchy

I hate when people say just be confident or get a hair cut I swear, people giving us ugly people the worst advice. They think a haircut is going to save my appearance. I would literally have to reincarnate to look attractive. There’s no amount of gym or looksmaxing that could save me. I’m tired of people telling me to just be confident and get a haircut, and I will find a woman. No, I won’t. Stop lying to us.

A friend of mine is a bit bigger and has been the entire time I’ve known her. I’ve never said anything ever to make herself feel bad about herself, I always try to lift her up and make her feel confident while encouraging healthy behavior (not unless she asks only when she tells me she wants to lose weight).

I see her almost everyday at work and everyday, multiple times a day she will complain about how she’s fat and wishes she were skinny. I don’t say things like, “oh you don’t need to lose weight” because she has told me she’s getting close to 300 lbs. I try and give her simple advice like eat more whole foods and go on walks because she’s genuinely looking for advice. But then like an hour later she’ll eat like cake or something and if we’re going somewhere I’ll say, “why don’t we walk to the place we’re going?” And she say no that’s too far. And it will be like a five minute walk?

I don’t want to be rude but it genuinely starts to make me mad how she complains all the time and doesn’t even try to make an effort to lose any weight. I know it’s none of my business really but she talks to me about it literally every single day. She often asks how am I so skinny, which I’m not super thin I’m currently at an average, healthy weight. She’ll also say things like, “I wish I had your body” and “I’m so fat, I wish I looked like you.” It genuinely is starting to make me uncomfortable because of how often she says things like that.

At first the way she complimented me was nice and honestly I’d thank her and feel good about myself. But now it’s starting to feel weird and I’m a little freaked out with how often she comments on my body. Honestly at this point I get annoyed when she complains about being overweight. I don’t want to be rude because I know it’s difficult to lose weight but with the amount she complains about it I just get mad hearing about it.

Advice is welcome, though I’m not necessarily looking for it. I just needed to get this off my chest because it’s been going on for months now.

Back when I was addicted to fentanyl I called my plug for a patch. When I got to his apartment he wasn’t home and the door was slightly ajar. I began calling his name as i opened the door to no answer. I quickly went down the hallway to his room. I opened one of the dresser drawers and took a fentanyl patch. At the time I justified it because he had oxys and weed in the drawer and I only took a single patch. Later that night he called me. I was so scared that he found me out but i still answered. Much to my surprise he apologized to me for leaving me hanging and I ended up going over there to buy another patch. This was over 20 years ago but I still feel bad about it.

Sigh... I'm a bi male in a hetero seeming relationship with a bi female. Really happy in it and we've been together for over 10+ years. I clearly also find men attractive but am rarely ever actually attracted to any. Almost always when I'm already in a relationship and so have never been in a relationship or gotten to pursue a man. Wether they weren't my type or I felt like they were out of my league etc.

Last month I finally met the new employee and goddamn he's beautiful. His eyes, piercings, hair and scars. With an amazingly lovely bright attitude. I feel like there's some mutual attraction there when we speak. How close we get to each other when we talk. And I can feel myself being happy and nervous hoping I don't pry too much or info dump right out the gate. I literally check the schedule every morning to see if he's gonna be there. Only one other employee knows that I even find him "very cute" but no one knows how I actually feel.

I am ashamed cause I love my relationship but it IS monogamous. I don't believe I have what it takes to try any polyamorous. Relationships are hard enough and risking it all is not how I live my life since I was much younger. I don't know if they are single, and I don't even know if they are even gay or bi or attracted to men in any way. Im ashamed to have not told him I'm in a relationship already. This is how it usully goes for me. I never seem to find too many men attractive but I am very attracted to my coworker. I can't bring myself to do anything about it, just gonna be one of those corners of my mind.

It's fucked up. But I had to say it somewhere

I don’t care who reads this. I don’t care if there’s an answer. I just need to write this down and for people to see it. Or y’know. If no one sees it that’s also okay. I’m sorry this is so long, I just have a lot to say. It's pretty vague, so if anyone has any questions, please feel free to ask, I've given up on secrets here

As these stories go, we were young. We were in school. I had technically first met her in my English class the year prior. We never really talked then, but I knew her name and her face. She wasn’t even an acquaintance. I didn’t have a thing for her. I didn’t really have even a passing thought about her. No, I, instead, had a crush on one of my best friends (we’ll call her Jane). Now, the year passed, and for our final English project we had to do a court case. I wasn’t anyone important, I was just on the jury. She, however, was important. She was one of the pivotal witnesses. I’m not even entirely sure what role she played. That day was so dumb and stupid, but… I never forgot it. I never will forget it. It didn’t enact anything in my heart or whatever cliches there are. She was just… really fun and really funny. Her side (the defense) lost and the perpetrator was put to death. I can’t remember any part of the case except for her testimony and the verdict. I don’t even remember the things she said. I just remember her talking. I don’t remember any of the people, I don’t remember any of the facts, I just remember her face, her laugh, and her disappointed, but still happy, smile. I didn’t talk to her ever. I didn’t think about her again. She was just a pleasant memory and nothing more.

Fast forward to the beginning of the next year. I was just trying to live my life. I had always wanted to be in a relationship, and I always innately knew that it would be something that I would enjoy (and a joke in my friendgroup was always that it was a mystery why I was single (because I would be good at it)). The first day of school, I walk into the school’s weight room and find that I have no friends in that class. Not a single person that I know well enough to lift weights with. I sat in the middle-ish back, and a little later she sat next to me. I recognized her from English, and greeted her. What normally would’ve been a situation that would cause me to worry, became a very pleasant one. We just talked. We talked about all the assholes we noticed were in the class, why we took the class, and we did the “your bodily dreams” assignment together. It was just… fun. Now, a few periods later, I sit in my Chemistry class. I’m sitting in the front-right, second from the board. The guy sitting in front of me says hi, but is almost immediately fed up with me. We had a short small-talk conversation, then proceeded to ask me if I’m gay (unprompted, mind you) and then got upset when I laughed and said no. I didn’t say anything mean, I just chuckled, sighed, and said no. He was… not happy. The next day, I walked into the weight room, and I couldn't find her. Nowhere to be seen. I was disappointed, but quickly I noticed one of my old buddies. I go talk to him, the school transferred him from an earlier period (and I later find out that he switched places with her). He became my lifting partner for the rest of the year and I was very happy to have a friend, but undeniably disappointed. Fast forward to Chem and there she is. Sitting in the spot of that jerk from before. She notices me and the smile that followed… and we talk. I learn that, because of her terrible vision, she got moved from a seat way in the back to the only one right in front of me. I always wonder what would have happened if my Chemistry teacher had moved her to a different seat instead of that one. She was so smart and kind and just unbelievable as a human being. Thus began a friendship. A best friendship, dare I say. She had a girlfriend, and talked about her all the time, so I never read into it.

Around this time, I was looking for love. I, at the time, still had a crush on that same friend from earlier, Jane. I had class with her everyday, so by the laws of crushing, it only got worse. It wasn’t debilitating or anything. I wasn’t always thinking about it, but it was hovering in the back of my mind. My friends knew. It didn’t mean much and didn’t result in any drama for the most part. I went on a few dates and stuff, but it all ended very fast and pretty tragically.

Now, every morning I would stand outside my class just waiting for the door to open. On my birthday, she just appeared. She walked over to talk to me and gave me this amazing card she painted for me. I’ve always been really weird about my birthday because I don’t like making people feel obligated to do nice things to/for me. I usually keep it hidden, but she found out. That became our little routine. We’d meet every morning and just talked. It was, probably, one of my favorite parts of the day. We talked. A lot. We also texted all the time. I’m notorious for being a dry and far-and-few-between texter, but I just really enjoyed talking with her. We’d stay up late and call and talk about… literally everything. I’d play videogames or do projects while we talked, but eventually the conversations would get so good that I’d have to put everything down. We spent a good portion of homecoming together, dancing. We both came with different groups of people, but the two of us just ended up together and talking. She wasn’t not attractive, because she absolutely was, she just never appeared in my head as anything more than a friend.

Sometime in December (I think), I went out with her, Jane, and another shared friend to a cafe to play boardgames. It was a blast, but she got tired near the end and rested her head against my shoulder. She still had a girlfriend mind you, so once again, never read into it. Life just… continued. School continued. If I recall correctly, she ended up breaking up with her girlfriend in the beginning of January. For many and very reasonable reasons. Sometime around the end of February I get a really weird text from her. We’re talking like normal, but she randomly floats that she has something she wants to tell me. But she won’t. I try to get her to but she won’t. Eventually, one of her friends ends up texting me and putting me through a ‘test’ or some shit to see if I was worthy or to convince her to tell me? I’m not really sure but it was goofy. After… 12 hours of teasing, she told me. She liked me. Like more than a friend.

I had never had a girlfriend before and, partially due to my ADD, am extremely unobservant. This caught me entirely off guard. I remember reading it, and my heart going wild. I thought that I still liked Jane, but I took a minute to think about it. Seeing this girl’s smile and hearing her laugh and just talking to her… it was all I ever wanted to do. I needed a minute to consider it, to make sure I was making the right choice. Google said to imagine kissing them to see if you really like them. Suddenly, I was all hot and bothered and hadn’t even answered her. I could just feel it, I liked her too. So, I said so. We flirted for pretty much an entire week. Nothing really happened, our relationship hadn’t really changed, we just added enough flirting to drown a small horse. She would share some of the things I said to her with her friends, which was… odd, now that I think about it, but I sort of enjoyed the attention and was just happy that she was happy.

That Saturday, I went over to her place. We just sat together and watched a few movies. The first movie was one I loved, but she had never seen before, so we paid a lot of attention to it. The 2nd movie was also a movie I loved and another she had never seen before, but this one was a romance movie. I loved the movie and kept trying to get her to watch it, but she kept looking at me funny. I knew what she wanted. I did the text book things, y’know. The first time she tried to lean in I asked if she had any allergies… which… she started cackling. She did, but not to food. Which was good, because I eat pretty much anything, and I was so nervous for this movie date that I had eaten… a variety of things. If she was allergic to any nuts, chocolate, or any fruits/berries, I would’ve killed her. Whatever. She pouted for like 10 minutes before making a second attempt. Once again, I followed the textbook. I leaned in halfway (I say, halfway, but we were very close) and waited for her to meet me. She didn’t. She just kept looking at my eyes, lower, and then would blush and look at the movie. I swear to god. She did this like 6 times. The seventh time, I wasn’t going to let her tease me again. I leaned in, ran my hand up her neck, and gently pushed her closer to meet me. That was my first kiss, and it was… magical. She shut the movie off and we messed around for an hour. She was not nervous anymore, and very evidently, much more experienced than I was. Once I left, I was distracted the rest of the day. I couldn’t focus on anything. Life, once again, continues, but so do we. We go on a date about once a week. I was never a very happy person, but with her… I couldn’t do anything but smile.

We were talking late one night, and the topic of sex came up. As they say, if you’re not ready to talk about it, your relationship isn’t ready for it. So we talked. We talked for a few hours, covering all the bases, setting boundaries, and I’m not going to lie… we were on the exact same freak-uency. Our goals were very realistic and all we wanted was to be close to each other. The next time we met, we tried it. We were very careful and prepared, but our first time wasn’t great. It was awkward and neither of us finished or even got very far. Afterwards, we cuddled, kissed, and talked until I had to leave. We were smiling and everything still, and I have to say, the experience wasn’t spectacular, but it was absolutely special, and I’ll treasure that forever. The next time we hung out, after an afternoon out, we got back to her place and she wanted to try again. She had a look in her eyes and it did something to me. Our second time was amazing. We took extra time to make sure she was ready, mentally and physically, and it was beautiful. She was beautiful. Our sex-life only improved after that. I’ve always hated my body and been uncomfortable with people touching it, but I didn’t care what she did. I knew she loved me and loved my body. She was also insecure, but I constantly worked to show her how much I appreciated her. How much I appreciated her entire person. I loved her personality and her brain and the way she thought. There was a point where she was injured. She hurt her leg, needed surgery, and needed a brace. She had to walk with crutches for a while. She was really insecure about it and what it meant. I didn’t care. I just felt so lucky just to know her and be there for her. I waited for her and encouraged breaks when we went walking. I drove her to appointments sometimes. We spent so much time talking. Our goals for the future were the exact same. She and I wanted to move and live in the same states. We had the same future outlook. We had the same family hopes. We even had the same dreams when it came to just living our lives. Her future profession is, admittedly, very different from mine, but they are both sciences and her goals were so exciting and interesting.

That school year ended, and during the summer, I spent as much time with her as I possibly could. During the beginning of the Summer, I had a trip to another country that would last 2 weeks. The time difference was pretty big and we couldn’t really talk. During that trip, I got to visit a center in the country. It was very cool and offered a lot of opportunities. I was lucky enough to have a decent understanding of the language, and with some more practice, I would have enough to go and work there. That night, one of the rare nights we had time to talk, I told her that I was thinking about the center. She was silent for a while. It would be a temporary thing, only a few years, but she said that we’d probably have to break up if that’s something I was determined to do. That was kind of a shock. I loved her so much, and I was under the impression she loved me too, but the way she said it made it seem like… like we couldn’t even try to make it work. Something changed there.

I got home and we continued spending a lot of time together. We went on so many dates. We watched movies and played games. Had lots of fun and sex. She met my family and I met hers. She spent time with my brother, he loved her, and I spent lots of time with her family. For maybe the first time in my life, I was actually and truly happy. We did fight every now and then, like a normal couple, but it ended with us talking it out and discussing things because harboring feelings always goes wrong. Then, all of a sudden, my childhood dog died. I never got to say goodbye. I saw her an hour before she died. I was a mess. I didn’t want to do anything. She wasn’t just a dog, she was basically another sibling. I’d known her as long as I knew my actual brother. So… my girlfriend wasn’t too happy with me. She had actually lost a sibling before and really didn’t appreciate it when I compared my dog to a person. I never said it was the same, I only said that’s what it felt like, but she felt I didn’t know what it felt like. I was struggling, and she was supportive, but I couldn’t handle the judgement. I was emotionally distant. We barely saw each other. The next year of school started and that got even worse. I was extremely busy and breaking down from a mental standpoint. I was unobservant and just, not as good a boyfriend as I previously had been. We fought all the time, mostly over text. I feel like I made her mad with every other word I said. We still went on dates, and those were always amazing, but we only saw each other… twice(?) after my dog died. The last date we ever had was the day before we broke up. It was amazing. We went on walks and explored and talked. It was lovely and I felt close to her. I remember, while we were eating, looking at her and thinking to myself: I can’t believe she’s actually mine.

The next night, 3 weeks after my dog died, she called me. She had some problems with our relationship. I have to be honest, so did I. I remember the reason she had to break up with me: I was unobservant. I didn’t notice things. I couldn’t tell what she wanted when she was hinting at things, I couldn’t pick up when she was mad over text. I find out later that my unobservantness comes from my ADD. I didn’t know I had ADD at the time. It wouldn’t have changed much, but as a person with struggles herself, I think she might’ve been a little more lenient with me. There was one specific instance she quoted. An hour or two into a day we were hanging out, I had to leave suddenly, and urgently, because of a family thing (it wasn’t an emergency, but my dad was lowkey really pissed at me, and it was break so I didn’t have much of a choice but to do what he said). I told her I had to leave, but she was disappointed. I could see something bothering her, so I was asking her about it. She told me she was fine. I told her that meant she wasn’t fine. She told me she was doing well enough and to just leave and not worry about her. We kissed goodbye and then I went home. A few hours later, after getting absolutely blasted by my father, she texts me. She talks about how she can’t believe how I left and how I couldn’t tell she was mad. I asked, but that wasn’t the point. It was a mixture of how I didn’t believe her when she said she was fine, and then also that I didn’t stay to fix the situation. I was really drained, but tried to talk it out with her. Evidently, we didn’t come to a conclusion. She kept saying how she knew that I wasn’t mistreating her on purpose, and she loved how I normally treated her and told me I was an amazing boyfriend, but I stressed her out and needed to be more attentive and observant. I was honest with her: I didn’t know if I could be more observant. It was an issue she’d always had with me, and it’s something I’ve always tried my best to work around, and I was trying. But it still wasn’t good enough. I had my own gripes with the relationship. I was, and am, a huge foodie. I love food. She had a lot of aversions to food, and just hated a lot of food in general. I was always very accommodating and made sure that there was something she could eat, but I harbored this disappointment that I wouldn’t have someone to enjoy food with. I have always been yelled at, most of my life I’ve been getting yelled at. Our relationship was mostly peaceful, but in the recent times, we’d been fighting a lot and I couldn’t handle it. I was short with her every time we started fighting. I also, admittedly, held a little bit of resentment with her. When our relationship began, it was revealed that Jane had liked me, or, at the very least, would absolutely have dated me to see what happened. I felt a little blindsided and always wondered what would’ve happened had that fact been told to me before we began dating, but it was what it was. I believe there were other reasons I was griping with our relationship, but I can’t even remember them anymore. However, I let her talk the entire time, never got to (or never chose to) say my piece, and when she said we should break up, I just… agreed. I thought that she deserved better than me, because she did. I was shitty to her and she needed more than I could give her.

I was 100% still in love with her. I cried for hours after she hung up, and I despise when I cry because that’s not something men do (I know that’s not true in my heart, I don’t judge when my male friends cry because it’s good to let feelings out, that’s just how I was raised). Every day for the next week, I was constantly on the verge of crying. If anyone said her name I almost began bawling. I couldn’t even properly grieve because a huge school event was starting, which meant I couldn’t even think for the next 3 weeks, let alone worry about a ‘dumb past relationship’. So I didn’t. I focused on the event and the people in it. I buried my feelings deep. Really deep. Sometime during the event, I was talking to Jane, and I, when I’m tired, have this condition called diarrhea of the mouth. I was talking to her about life and she was sorry about my failed relationship and whatever. We were talking, pleasantly, and somehow, who knows why, I told her that I had a crush on her in the past. She got really excited. She said she’d been having… feelings, and that we’d need to talk some other time. We do talk later. She likes me, has for a while, but didn’t say anything because I was with my girlfriend. In that conversation, she admits to not really liking my ex, and how many of my friends and Jane’s friends didn’t like her. Jane wants to try something with me, but, due to the recentness of my break-up, asks me to make sure she won’t be a rebound. I get offended internally. How dare my ex get in the way of another thing. So… the asshole in me takes a real dedicated effort to convince Jane that everything is okay. And, I do. I guess I’m a real charismatic motherfucker. So… Jane and I start talking or whatever. I ask her out and she says yes. We go on a date, we talk, we share a kiss, and we go out to dinner. So, I’m sitting at dinner, and I just feel this… this dread. This sinking feeling. I see Jane in that same way I saw my ex, but instead of thinking how lucky I am, I’m thinking: this is a huge mistake; this is going to end poorly. The date goes well, to her. I’m just stuck in this, half there, half screaming mentality. We go our separate ways and I vomit. From the stress.

School is in full swing. I can’t focus on anything because there’s no time or energy for anything. Life continues yet again. My ex and I text every now and then. We agreed to stay friends, because I couldn’t handle being without her. It’s usually passing and nothing real. Questions about stuff she might’ve left at my place or about questions for friends I get to see way more than she does. Y’know normal things. I’m very short with her though. I try to drive her away so she can find someone who she deserves. She deserves way better than me, she deserves someone who doesn’t piss her off at every given moment. I go on a date or two with Jane, and we kiss a few times, but I want to vomit each instance. It’s not her. It’s never been her. I just can’t handle it. I soon become a villain. Jane and I date for months. I can’t bring myself to break up with her, I just can’t. I want to, but it… just never occurs to be. See, we see each other every day, but other than the few dates we had in the beginning, our relationship never changed. We didn’t flirt, we weren’t physical other than the what can technically be called kissing, we just had a different title. We didn’t even talk more than we did when we were just friends. I, as mentioned before, never really texted or talked to people before my ex. And, that just continued. I didn’t ghost anyone, I answered very timely, but I just don’t think about texting people, I always just prefer to wait to talk to them in person. I, apparently, go 3 months without texting Jane. Not a single word. We talk every morning face to face, so I just…don’t ever think about talking to her otherwise. I end up, however, texting my ex to wish her a happy birthday. We start talking. Not flirting, just talking. Talking like best friends. We ask about each other’s family’s, their pets, school, everything. Talking with her is so natural. It feels right. Around the end of the physical year, so december-ish, I receive a text from my ex. She wants me back. She loves talking with me and regrets ever pushing me away, and just needs to see my face again. I see the text and start sobbing. I want to say yes so badly. I want to take her back. I need her back. But, I’m in a relationship with Jane. I’m a lot of things. I’m a horrible person. I’m a piece of shit, just like my father, but I’m not a cheater. I considered all my options, which wasn’t many. There wasn’t anything I could do that was fair to both girls. I told my ex that I wasn’t interested in her and that she deserved better than me. I cried myself to sleep that night. I never stopped thinking about her. And on top of everything, I’m too much of a pussy to just break up with Jane. I hate my relationship with her. I was a great boyfriend to my ex (or so she told me), as good as I could be at the moment, but I was just awful to Jane. Not good enough. I didn’t try hard enough. Jane told me that she appreciated everything I did when I made an effort, there just wasn’t enough effort. If only love relationships were the only problems in my life. I struggle to keep my good grades in school and put in a lot of effort; I’m involved directly in so many clubs and activities and it requires so much of my energy; I’ve got a plethora of health issues and physical concerns; my familial and friendly relationships are shit too. It took another month for me to plan how to break up with Jane, but before I could, she broke up with me. She was very kind about it. Our relationship didn’t change at all, we’re still very good friends, but she told ALL of her and my friends about my inability to be a good lover.

When I didn’t know what love was, I was finally learning how to be happy. She fell first, but I fell harder. She haunts my dreams, my nightmares. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t do anything. Even before I knew what love was or felt like, it was something I was constantly thinking about. The idea of having someone. It was exactly like every book, every movie, describes it as. Not only am I out a lover, but I’m out my best friend. After my ex and I broke up, I realized the people I called my best friends, didn’t really know me. A lot of them find me annoying. There isn’t a single person on the earth that I’m completely comfortable talking to, except for her. I’ve never felt a connection with anyone like I had with her. Even my therapist, who I got for medical reasons, I’m supposed to tell her everything, but I can’t bring myself to. Maybe this would be easier if I had a best friend. If I had someone, anyone. But I don’t. Leaving for another country is seeming easier and easier as the days go on.

I miss her smile, I miss her laugh, I miss all our stupid inside jokes. I miss how she would recap me on the books she was reading. I miss how we would just talk. I miss not having to hide anything. I miss her eyes. I miss the way she’d look at me. I miss being hugged. I miss being close to someone. I miss being happy.

I’m afraid of being alone. I’m afraid that I’ll finish school and still have no one. I’m an extreme extrovert, I can’t handle being alone. I’m not going to change the world or even do anything impactful with my job, it’ll just be a way to survive and pass the years. My job won’t even let me have pets. I don’t know how I’ll last. I know I’m still young, but that’s the only thing people keep telling me. “You’re young, it’ll get better”. I get told this by people who have already met the love of their life. Who met them when they were younger than I am. My mom thinks I'm being dramatic, but she doesn’t understand. Her first relationship longer than 3 months was with my asshole father who got her pregnant at 18. All I want is a normal life. Y’know what, I don’t even care about normal. I just want to be happy, and I know I won’t be truly happy alone. Dating is a demon now, and I know it. I can’t love someone again unless I feel a connection like that. Will that ever happen again? Am I stupid for letting it go?

I’m sorry this is so long. If you made it this far, I hope you at least were a little entertained or something. It’s been over a year and a half since the last time I saw my ex. I didn’t even make eye contact with her, I just heard her voice, and I wanted to yell out for her, but I didn’t. She had a boyfriend again by then, which hurt more than I thought it would, considering I did the same to her, but y’know. I hope she’s happy and he treats her well.

I just need more perspectives. Someone to say something. I don’t care if it’s admitting I’m a bad person, I just need someone to see this and say something.

Thank you for your time and attention, have a good rest of your day

Growing up, I had a good friend in high school. We played sports and would chill out a lot. We were camping at a lake with his parents.But his dad hadn't arrived yet. We were getting ready to go fishing early the next morning. we were up late and kind of got tired so conversation Turned to what boys always talk about..Girls. we were talking about different girls and how big or small their boobs were and he made an offhanded remark about his mom Having the biggest boobs he'd seen.. I asked you've seen your mom's boobs and he said oh yeah we still shower together

I thought he was joking, but he said it. So calmly. We went fishing came back later the next day and he casually mentioned he was gonna go shower with his mom, and I could join him if i wanted to. His mom did have big tits, so I said yes, and we waited for the public showers to be empty and the three of us went in and took a shower together. We watched her shower and both got hard as rocks. Watching his mom's breast. We joked about it that night in the tent, because his dad showed up and stayed in the camper with his mom.

About five years later, after I graduated college and came back home ended up seeing his mom at a store near our house. My friend had moved out of town and his dad had passed away so she was in town by yourself. I invited her out to dinner that night. And we started a 6 month affair.

From Daytona Beach

Hi, for the last 3 months me and ‘K’ have been dating, she’s 27. She’s amazing. She takes care of me, makes me feel loved. Honestly probably has something to do with my mommy issues but I don’t care. She’s kind, she’s funny, she’s pretty. We have so much fun together. I want the world to know but I know it would be frowned upon. I sleep at her apartment most days, she lets me sleep in and stay while she’s at work.

I work from my computer as a freelance graphic designer so I stay curled up in her bed, and I love it. She takes me out all the time, she’s just perfect. We talked for about a month before we started dating and I’m so so happy. I want to tell my friends and family soon but I’m scared they won’t approve so I’m telling strangers instead

I was a very driven child. Think Hermione Granger on steroids. I was a scholarship kid to a prestigious private school, the lead in every school show. Probably pompous as hell, ngl. Yet somehow I've failed as an adult.

I genuinely never considered that I wouldn't make it as rich and successful. I feel like I did everything I had to do and somehow every effort just fell away. No project came to fruition, no film director cast me in a role, no money magically landed in my lap. I'm nearly 30 and I live pay day to pay day. I know that's super conceited but everyone my whole life told me I would be something. Everything pointed in the direction of me becoming someone important, successful or with a modicum of power.

Unfortunately, and to my great shame, this fills me with writhing hate. I can't stand to hear about anyone's success, friend or enemy. I see very successful people (think famous) at my desk job every day and where I used to feel excited or inspired I get filled with loathing. I can't stand hearing, seeing or supporting my friends achievements because I don't understand why they can't happen to me. I'm so ashamed of this. I love my friends and want to be happy for them, instead I find myself not answering messages and ignoring them because I can't stand how I feel.

Sometimes the jealousy hits me so hard I burst into tears. No one in my life would expect me to be like this. I smile , congratulate, bring cards and flowers but inside I feel like the biggest hater. I often have to picture something awful about them just to make myself survive a wave of jealousy, and then I'm wracked with guilt.

I can't stand this person I'm turning into, it seems to be spiralling out of control. I also have to admit it's worsening as my looks are leaving me with age. I guess I was just secretly vile all along. I cannot tell anyone this so I guess I'll let it out here.

I feel like the idea of living a normal life is killing me, which is so disgusting to admit.

I am 28. Never been in a relationship. Do not plan to marry anytime soon cause i want to marry for love. But i want have a dream fantasy in which i want a househusband who would wait for me wearing his apron when i come back from work and would cook me meals and but also i have no interest in domination. I will treat him nicely though. Is this weird? Does men even want this?

I already know what kinda answers I’ll probably get but looking for honest opinions lol (dm me if you’re a girl who actually has an opinion) I live with my sister we have two bathrooms mine is more of the main bathroom so it’s normal for her to use it sometimes but never for a shower or anything else. I’ve been finding random pairs of ONLY her fresh dirty underwear right in the middle of the floor no other clothing. At first with the laundry room being right there I didn’t think much of it but after the last 2-3 times it’s suspiciously only her dirty underwear and now I’m like okay what’s going on. I could be completely wrong and she’s just not thinking anything of it but like if any girls could tell me if they would be a little conscious of the fact that they left their dirty thong in their brothers bathroom center of the floor where he can’t miss it?? Or if you would just drop them and walk away too and not think to grab them later lol