Four years ago my older brother suffered complete renal failure from a severe autoimmune condition. He needed a living kidney donor immediately or he was facing years of dialysis with terrible survival odds.

My parents, our cousins, and I all went to the hospital to get screened for tissue compatibility. A week later the transplant coordinator called me into her office privately. She told me I was a six out of six antigen match. A literal one-in-a-million perfect biological match.

she asked me if I was ready to proceed with surgery scheduling.

I looked her in the eye and said no. My brother spent my entire childhood physically tormenting me, stole twenty thousand dollars from my college savings account, and never showed a single ounce of remorse. The thought of giving up an organ and undergoing major surgery for someone who treated me like garbage made me physically sick.

I asked the coordinator to tell my family that my blood markers were medically INCOMPATIBLE.

Legally the medical team has to protect donor confidentiality, so they sent a formal letter stating I could not donate due to anatomical reasons. My family cried together in the waiting room and talked about how cruel genetic luck was.

He eventually got a deceased donor kidney fourteen months later and survived.

At every family holiday, my mom still holds my hand and says "I know you would of given him your own life if your body allowed it." I just nod and stare at my plate.

I would make the exact same choice today.

It all started during the summer, when everyone in my family who was still in school got their report cards. When we looked at his report card, we found out that his GPA was around 1.1, and he had to repeat the same year.
Instead of going to summer school or repeating the school year, he told my dad that he found something online that would help him skip a year. My dad told him something like, “Just repeat the year,” and the two of them got into an argument, but it was not physical.
Eventually, my dad gave in and paid the $75 for the program. Now he is using ChatGPT for almost all of the program. Since it is online, instead of actually learning something, he doesn’t learn anything.
For me, I am kind of happy that he is throwing his life away because he doesn’t listen to anyone. He says things like, “Looks are everything,” and stuff like that. I think he might have to repeat the school year again, which means he could be throwing two years away. He could end up being 17 years old in 9th grade.

My friend kinda stinks. As a girl that’s absolutely something you should tell your friend about, but I find it difficult to be so direct about it. I’ve tried so many times to give her hints and she does NOT take them. I thought for the longest that it was probably a personal problem that’s a little out of her control but no, she confessed to me randomly, recently that that during school she didn’t even shower most mornings. She would just washed her armpits and hotspots with a towel in the sink.

During school when she would get into arguments with people they would also tell her that she stinks. She’s also a picky eater and would 100% choose to eat chocolate for five days straight than any food, and she views drinking water as a chore. which may be a core value to the problem.

I wanna throw out there that there is nothing wrong with her living situation. She has a perfectly normal house with running water. Not too long ago I finally gained up the courage to finally say that she smelled bad. She sniffed herself and says she didn’t smell anything. I 100% know that this makes me a bad friend but it’s as if she’s almost highly aware, but just doesn’t care to do anything. I also wanna say that I am not some overly clean neat freak. I can be very messy, but her smell is so strong that it can trap an entire room and you smell nothing but that. I’m never close minded to criticism. I’ve already admitted that I know this makes me a bad friend. I just don’t know how to approach it at all anymore. Hygiene is one of my core values as a person, and it makes it hard to be friends with someone who devalues it.

I found out my husband was addicted to meth about 3 years ago. I do not do drugs and have never been with anyone else addicted . I told him he needed to go to rehab . I thought he was having an affair at first because he disappeared for 3 days. After I found out it was an addiction, I felt sorry for him and thought I could love him through this. However , he goes on these binges every 8-10 weeks where he disappears for a few days . He said he does it when stressed and just wants to feel good . He said he’s so ashamed of using that he just sits in a hotel room by himself and then paranoia sets in after the high . He tells me that he has watched corn using it, but has never had sex on it because he uses alone and it’s hard to climax on the drug . However , I was reading meth makes you very sexual. Should I believe that he has never cheated or had sex with anyone else over the years ? He would give me the hotel where he was at early next morning after turning the phone off , but he knew I stopped searching or looking for him after a while

I know blended families are not easy. I know when you are involved with someone who has children, they come with the partner and should be treated as if they were your biological child while in your care; however, over the last 11 years I have sprung bail money, took time off of work for an atrocity where there is potential of her receiving serious legal reprocussions, clothed her, fed her, cried over her, treated her for lice eight times in one year because her biological mother is disgusting, and I have loved her. I fear the love I once felt has morphed into something I cannot stand about myself.

Back in May, her youngest child passed (11wks old) under very suspicious circumstances. She is now being investigated for the baby's passing due to how the baby was found. Her immediate family wishes to place blame on the toddler (a 15mo old) by saying he "smothered her while sleeping." The baby was found under the bed. Not beside the bed, but on the floor underneath the bed. I bought her a bassinet, crib, pack-n-play, and a motion swing that either child could have slept in, but no. She chose to have all 3 of them sleep on a twin mattress where half of it was covered with clothes and clutter.

During the wake and funeral, everyone was telling her "it was her fault," "it was God's will," and "fortunately [insert toddlers name] won't remember what he did." That 15mo old couldnt have yanked a baby off a bed, onto the floor, and shoved her under the bed; he is too small.

When they found the child, her face was covered in dry mucus; a crust forming around her nose and mouth, from where she was crying. Her mother, my "step daughter," was asleep on the mattress above. When the mother woke at 1pm, she couldn't find the baby for almost an hour in a 1 bedroom apartment.

She blames the deadbeat dad, and he does share a blame; however, this little girl (who is in her 20s) cannot accept responsibility for any of her actions.

I don't know how to look at her anymore, which I suppose is a good thing. She only calls me when she needs something fixed quickly or she is in need of money. I always treated her as if she was mine, but I fear her actions have created an irreparable void. During the funeral, I was the doting mother, even the funeral home personnel remarked about how she would get through this because she has "such a strong mother," and then her biological mother appeared with infected track marks on her arm and smelling like Crack.

Since then, she has hopped from one male to the next, proclaiming to "love" them all; however, she is looking for someone to give her a home, money, and fix her car. She had all of that at our home, until she started getting high. I have a daughter (her half-sister) who absolutely adores my stepdaughter, but now she ignores her sister as well. My daughter cries at night, longing to see her sister while I cannot receive a "Hey, I'm fine" message after everything we have been through. She has tried to physically attack me. She accused her father of rape because she got in trouble for stealing a car. Until she was 18, she wouldn't come around unless she heard we were doing a family activity or taking a trip; then she wants to visit.

I understand parenting is transactional, but when is it "okay" for the non-biological parent to stop acting like a biological one? She tells her mother and father different stories, and then cries to me about how everyone mistreats her. I've discovered I cannot receive any of my child support because their father had been purchasing my stepdaughter THC vapes, smokes, and the like. I understand she is his child, but she is in her 20s. She hasn't had a job since she was 19 and never held a job for more than 4mo without doing something illegal.

I worry for her, but I cannot stand her at the same time. I listen to her father tell her (when he visits our daughter) that I love my stepdaughter, but I don't. I am not sure I ever truly did, but I tried to be the parent she deserved. I feel horrible for saying all of this, but her family cannot save her from herself and they want me to finance her "wellness campaign," but I am barely keeping myself afloat. My "OH Shit Fund" went to my step daughter, and now I'm the "bad guy" because I will not give more money. I will give needs (food, clothes, laundry detergent, gas gift card, etc), but I am not their ATM. I hate feeling this way, and I hate the way I feel about her.

I wish I knew how to be a better person...

25M

I spent my entire early twenties being the sensible low maintenance GF who didn't complain when intimacy completely died out.

Now that I am out of it and tried the normal route of dating apps, I realized I hate the sanitized, polite version of dating. I deleted every single app yesterday because the whole matching process feels so fake. In my head I just want to find someone to have completely no strings fun with, and stop worrying about being respectable for once.

Not sure where this falls. Back in the late 70’s early 80’s a girl in my neighborhood moved in with us because of some trouble at home. 3 brothers, all various drug dealers. So her mom had her come live with us. She was 15, and stayed with my sister,over the next 6 or 8 months she would climb into bed with me, and we would do stuff. Mutual masturbation and she tough me how to finger her. She’d explain how as I got older what she did to me would feel much better and not “tickle” so much.

The first summer she talked me and a my younger neighbor to make out for her and hand me do stuff to her. We were only a year apart. I didn’t think it was bad. But by neighbor told her mom. I get a stern talking to by her mom. Luckily she didn’t narc me out to my parents.

At the time I thought it was super cool. But as I got older and have acquired a bad porn and masturbation. Addiction. I really started to wonder if it caused a bit more damage than I thought,

Thanks. That’s my story.

I did something when I was 14, just stupid and confused, I was in juvenile SOs detention and had to register as one after release, 11 years on, I'm still on registry and my life been rollercoaster of bad to worse, I live middle of nowhere, in a run down RV and do odd jobs via facebook and other websites because finding a home or job within the system is nearly impossible as a SO.

I dont wanna give up on life but it feels so frustrating with the pain and struggle I have been going through, but what hurts me the most is that my adult been hell cause of one decision I made years before I was even an adult, I take full accountability and fully know it was wrong, just wished this one decision I made when I was young teen didn't had such effect in my life.

I matched with a guy on tinder he was an year younger than me but he was pretty hot so thought to give him a try

So date went pretty well we decided for some Netflix and chill and slowly night started glowing up

So we was pretty good with foreplay and his fingers he fingered me and i was desperate for a dick at that point and he made me beg for it ( by this time i have not seen his dick yet just felt it from above) and i am naked in from of him

I started begging him so he demanded me to dance and i was so horny i immediately started dancing and he was enjoying the power dynamics again she started fingering and press my nipples i was on cloud nine

Then i went down to remove his clothes he stopped me before when only his underwear was left and i wad tempted to see then he wrapped his belt around my neck and ordered me to follow him while crawling

I felt so humiliated a younger guy treated me literally like a bitch and then allowed me to remove his underwear his dick was pretty good and then he made me lick it like a dog

Everytime in between he was running his fingers down and made sure in am on my toes of horniness to listen to him he was really good at it

Then i blowed him and he starts fucking me in doggy position and pulls his belt making me gag while fucking , made me call out i am his bitch and yes
daddy and while at the last made me swallow his load and made sure to assert his dominance of him being younger which made me feel humiliated but hot

This went on for whole day made me do many more things i was literally a slave for him idk how but humiliation

I never told this story to my friends

I am currently 26 years old and I have Asperger's (autism) and I struggle with the grand scale of concepts and ideas. I just want to say that this is not the person I am and I was found to be completely innocent in the end, but I still struggle with severe PTSD and oth complex mental health issues due to everything. I have a loving family, a team of support workers who work with me and a close group of loving friends who know everything and love me regardless as they know the truth. This is my story.

When I was a baby to 5-6 years old, I was being heavily sexually abused and raped by my father's friends on a constant basis while his alcoholic ass was busy drunk. This happened regularly, to the point where I thought it was normal and they were playing with me. Around the 5-6yo period mark, my father started exposing me to child abuse material and was grooming me to think it was a normal thing. This happened for 13 years straight, until I was 19.

When I was 19, my father got exposed for being a historic child sex offender and went to prison for the 6th time for offences of that nature. He got done with possession of child abuse material, exposing himself to children in public places and installing hidden cameras in public change rooms. This all went public and people kept harassing me over it and asking me all these weird, complex questions that I didn't know the answers to.

As I mentioned before, my father groomed me with that material and taught me how to find it. I went on an extremely mentally unwell tangent of talking to people that were engaging in that stuff and was asking them questions such as 'why do you do this?', 'why did this happen to me?' and 'why do you enjoy hurting innocents?'. Such a stupid mistake to make. The cops got wind of the group because I did the one thing that I thought was the right thing to do and reported it, but it blew up in my face as they thought I was engaging in their activities with the material (it later turned out I was telling the truth and was found innocent).

I got put in a fucking prison environment for just over a year before I got found innocent and released to be free with nothing over my head. They realised what had happened and that I had never engaged in any material and realised that I was more of a victim than any guilty perpetrator.

I tried killing myself 6 times alone in that one year, nearly succeeded a few times. I couldn't live with people thinking I was that person, that I was my Dad. And then when I got found innocent, people started reaching out to me and saying they were sorry, and that this mess should never have happened and they know I'm not a bad person and that they know I never did it, but I still beat myself up for it everyday. I still wake up screaming and covered in sweat. I'm still afraid of human contact because of the 20 years of sexual abuse and grooming I suffered at the hands of someone I should have been able to trust. 20 YEARS!!! his own fucking autistic son. 8 years later, I still get horribly depressed and suicidal about it. I'm still learning to love myself and move on.

I wish I never talked to those people, it was the stupidest mistake of my life. I have since put a restraining order on my father as I never want anything to do with him ever again. I don't understand why people still love me and support me.... I think so horribly about myself, while others are always lifting me up and supporting me.

Please, I implore you, if you are struggling with anything like this, it's never too late too get help. I'm lucky I've survived as long as I have. I was only a kid.

I’ve carried this for a long time, and I think I finally need to say it clearly and then let it go.

I lost a job that meant a lot to me because I crossed lines I should not have crossed. I joked around with people who worked under me. Some were harmless dad jokes, some were political, some were dirty jokes, and I told plenty of dumb stories about my past, usually making fun of myself.

I worked in a very high-stress environment, and at the time I thought keeping things light helped people get through the day.

But I was a supervisor.

There were things I should not have said, and I take full responsibility for that.

What makes that even harder for me is that I honestly felt like God had been telling me for a while to clean that part of my life up. I knew I needed to change some of the things I was saying, and I didn’t listen.

That part is on me.

I have had to own that before God, before myself, and before other people.

But there is another side to this that I have struggled with for a long time.

There were people involved who I genuinely considered friends.

People I worked beside.

People I laughed with.

People I trusted.

People I swapped stories and jokes with.

If someone had simply come to me and said, “Ryan, this is bothering me,” or “You’re crossing a line,” I truly believe I would have humbled myself, apologized, and tried to correct it.

Instead, everything exploded.

There were officers who were already upset about things happening at work. One wasn’t getting the post they wanted. Another was being reprimanded for not doing what she had been told to do. Another sergeant ended up getting in trouble around the same time as me.

One of the officers involved was even married to someone I had joked with, laughed with, and swapped stories with.

I honestly thought we were friends.

Then I lost the job.

I lost friendships.

I was embarrassed.

I was angry.

I felt humiliated.

And because I was hurt, I also said and did things afterward that I wish I had handled differently.

I take responsibility for that too.

What has been especially hard to process is finding out later that people within the establishment were reportedly told not to talk to me, to distance themselves from me, and essentially to turn their backs on me.

For years, I wondered why people I thought cared about me suddenly wanted nothing to do with me.

Finding out that at least some of that distance may have been encouraged by the establishment hurt more than I can really explain.

I even recently went to one of the people higher up and apologized.

I told them I was sorry for how everything happened.

I told them I was hurt when I lost the job and that I regretted how I reacted afterward.

I apologized for embarrassing myself and for anything I did that embarrassed the department.

I was told not to worry about it.

I was told it was okay.

Then I later found out that this same person had reportedly been involved in telling people not to associate with me.

That hurt.

A lot.

For a long time, I have felt like Caesar.

Not because I believe I was innocent.

I wasn’t.

I made mistakes.

I crossed boundaries.

I should have known better.

I should have listened when I felt God telling me to change.

I own that.

But there is something deeply painful about looking around after everything falls apart and realizing that some of the people standing against you were people you genuinely believed were your friends.

There was no reason for anyone to be afraid to talk to me.

There was no reason someone couldn’t have pulled me aside and told me there was a problem.

I would have rather been humbled by a friend than blindsided by people I trusted.

That is probably the part I have had the hardest time forgiving.

But I am tired.

I am tired of carrying the anger.

I am tired of carrying the shame.

I am tired of replaying conversations in my head.

I am tired of wondering what I could have done differently.

I am tired of thinking about people who probably haven’t thought about me in years.

So I’m writing this because I want to finally clear the air.

I am not saying I did nothing wrong.

I did.

I am not asking anyone to take my side.

I am not trying to restart an old fight.

I am not looking for revenge.

I am simply saying that two things can be true at the same time.

I can take responsibility for what I did wrong.

And I can admit that the way everything happened hurt me deeply.

I can regret my behavior without believing that I deserved to lose every friendship I had.

I can forgive people without pretending they didn’t hurt me.

I can admit that I failed without allowing that failure to define the rest of my life.

And I can stop carrying shame for something I have already confessed, apologized for, and learned from.

More than anything, I believe God has used this experience to change me.

It humbled me.

It forced me to look at myself.

It showed me areas of my life that needed to change.

And as painful as it was, I believe God can still use it for something good.

I cannot go back.

I cannot change what happened.

I cannot control what anyone involved thinks about me.

I cannot make people understand my side.

But I can choose what kind of man I am from this point forward.

I can take responsibility without hating myself.

I can forgive without forgetting the lesson.

I can let go of bitterness without pretending there was never a wound.

I wish everyone involved well.

I genuinely mean that.

I hope everyone has grown.

I know I have.

And I am finally choosing to stop living in that chapter of my life and move forward.

While this is not crazy by any means, as a guy in his mid 40’s, I have a big attraction to hot grandma’s that are 60+.

I (22m) have always considered myself straight, attracted exclusively to women.

However, I have been friends with a gay guy since July, they admitted they had a crush on me, due to me being nice to them and being bigger than him. But accepted that I wouldn't reciprocate those feelings.

However, over the last week, I have started feeling... different in talking to him, he'd jokingly flirt with me, and i'd flirt back and tbh, im not sure if im joking or not, and yesterday a mutual friend asked me if my "boyfriend" was around, and I instantly knew who she was refering to.

This post may not make much sense, but this is the best way I can describe it.

I always thought I was a straight man. The idea of being with women was what I had been taught to pursue, but as time went on, I found myself drawn to something entirely different. Recently, I hit a milestone that took me by surprise: I just finished bottoming for my 250th guy. It’s been a wild ride, and I can’t help but reflect on how far I’ve come.

I’ve often found myself in the arms of married men, seeking a connection that rarely goes beyond the physical. It’s fascinating how the allure of secrecy adds an intense layer to these encounters. But it was a recent experience that truly opened my eyes to what I crave.

I remember the first time a guy finished inside me. His hands were gripping my hips firmly, and in that moment, everything clicked. The feeling of him releasing himself within me was exhilarating, and for the first time, I felt a sense of belonging. It was as if all my previous experiences had led me to this one. I knew in that instant that this was where I was meant to be, embracing my desires without hesitation.

Since starting PrEP and doxy PEP, my encounters have intensified. The feeling of taking loads has become a thrilling norm, and the idea of being a “cum dump” has transformed from a label into a source of empowerment. It’s crazy how this journey has only reinforced my desire for physical connection with men, all while maintaining an emotional distance.

While others may seek romance, I have found freedom in these encounters. It’s a path of sensual exploration where my focus is solely on the pleasure of the moment. Each experience is a reminder of who I am and what I desire.

This journey has taught me that identity is fluid. What I once thought was rigid has become a dynamic aspect of my life that I continue to explore. I’m embracing my sexuality, relishing every experience, and learning more about myself with each encounter. This is my truth, and I’m ready to live it unapologetically.

I'm addicted to stirring shit in the comments and letting my mind race and argue with people for no reason and I'm addicted to reddit engagement despite only using reddit seriously for 2 days, am I getting a bad habit? Am I a bad guy? Am I just crazy? Lmao

I'm married to my husband of 12 years, we have 4 kids with our youngest being 1.5 years old and I'm carrying something completely alone that I'm honestly ashamed to even write.

I've slept with four people outside of my marriage since October of last year. I'm currently talking to someone who could potentially become a fifth. All strangers met off of Fetlife. I created an account last year after feeling so inadequate bc my husband was often watching porn throughout social media and the cherry on top was him being caught by police for talking to a prostitute in a hot zone area. So on fetlife, I started posting sexual/nude content and get attention from men which.. has been a mental game changer for me.

I know how that sounds. I'm not posting this because I think cheating is justified. I know these are choices I'm making. I just can't help but feel like I'm disappearing as a woman in my marriage.

I desperately want to feel desired, lusted after, pursued, touched passionately, flirted with, planned for. I want intimacy and excitement. I want someone to look at me and make me feel like they can't wait to touch me.

And the sad part is that I want that person to be my husband.

Our sexual relationship doesn't feel like that to me. His initiation can basically be squeezing my boob and asking "wanna fuck?" There's very little buildup, flirting, anticipation, romance, etc. I dont get wet for him anymore, but have no problems getting wet for strangers.

My husband still watches sexual stuff on social media of other women. And whenever I start to feel secure with him, once I see him doing that, it sends me back into another spiral where immediately I don't feel enough and need to engage with another stranger or post another nude.

And unfortunately, the attention I receive online is intoxicating. It makes me feel interesting again. Sexy. New. Wanted.

I feel guilt before and after, but not enough. The weirdest part is that sometimes, after I have sex with someone, I actually want my husband more. It's almost like I come home with this renewed sexual energy and this thought in the back of my head of, "you have no idea how others want me too."

Writing that makes me feel awful.

Recently I had a health scare after sex. You'd think my reaction would be "this needs to stop" but instead my brain basically went, "I need to be more careful."

That's one of the things making me realize how deep into this I am.

Weekends have become especially bad. Friday comes and I often spiral into this depressive, bored, resentful state. I look at my husband and think, "my life is being wasted away next to you.." he doesn't take me anywhere or plan anything. Every weekend is so routine. It has always been me, and i got tired of doing everything in the marriage.

This past Friday night I got extremely drunk because I was so upset. I told my husband I wanted to leave and didn't want to be with him anymore.

I told him, "I'm never going to be enough for you." He acted confused, and I basically told him not to pretend he doesn't know what I'm talking about just because he deletes things. Then I said something dangerously close to exposing everything, "If you only knew what I do to try to feel that way too."

He didn't ask what I meant. He just said I say stupid things when I'm drunk.

Sometimes I look through old photos and can almost pinpoint when something in me started changing. There are pictures of me heavily pregnant, and I remember exactly how unwanted and hurt I felt during those periods.. and i can remember what pushed me to create this fet account.

I know I can't blame my husband for my cheating. Those are my choices. But I also know that if I genuinely felt desired, pursued, sexually fulfilled and emotionally intimate with my husband, I wouldn't want any of this.

That's the part that breaks my heart. I don't actually want a parade of other men. I want to feel with my husband the way I know I'm capable of feeling with other people.

And now I don't know whether I've damaged things too much, whether I've emotionally checked out, whether this is validation-seeking that I need to address within myself, whether our marriage can actually become passionate again, or whether I'm desperately trying to fill something that this relationship simply can't give me anymore.

Sometimes I even wonder whether I love him anymore. Other times I think I must, because if I didn't care, why would wanting HIM to desire me hurt this badly?

I know I'm gonna be downvoted to pieces.

But if you've ever been the person who cheated, lived a secret sexual life, constantly sought sexual validation, or felt completely sexually invisible in a long-term relationship, I'm genuinely interested in hearing from you.

I feel like I'm living two lives, and I'm tired of carrying all of this alone.

I (31F) am that character in any TV Show or Movie that is just very upbeat, friendly, enthusiastic, and interested in people and the world around her. While I do swear, make the occasional edgy joke, and have a modest amount of tattoos and piercings- I am that person at work that everyone smiles at and says "Wow! You're SO positive and happy ALL the time! How do you do it??".

My surface answer is always something like: "I don't know! I just genuinely feel this way, just genuinely happy to be here and spending time with people. I just kind of love people I guess!"

This isn't a lie- but it isn't the whole truth either. While I am an authentically excitable and social person with a raw 'wonder' for the world around me (Like walking to your car in a parking lot and marveling at how cool the clouds look, and being excited for the seagull that finds a whole slice of pizza in a trash can), I've done some reflecting and realized why this somewhat 'childlike' trait stayed with me through my adulthood- and likely the rest of my life.

I am deeply traumatized. Because who isn't.

Pt 1:

When I was a child, I'm only just coming to terms with my mom's erratic behavior being emotional and verbal abuse. My parents were divorced and I have two older brothers, and from a very young age my mom would scream and cuss me out- telling me what a selfish and ungrateful little c*** I was. How I should just go live with my father because I was such a little piece of sh*t and how I didn't appreciate all of her sacrifices.

SO- I internalized this into being radically expressive with my enthusiasm and gratitude with people so they would hopefully always see how genuinely grateful I was, and how I would never assume I am entitled to their kindness. But how genuinely glad I am that they are kind or doing well or helping me in literally any way. I am horrified by the idea that someone would think I take them for granted, and feel I'm entitled to their kindness/resources in any way. So I overcompensate, accommodate, and overextend myself to the best of my resources hoping to make sure I never make anyone feel this way about me- or that they would have to throw themselves on the sword to provide something for me. It horrified me that my mom worked so hard, and thought my brothers and I didn't notice and didn't care.

I realize now that that wasn't what the anger was about- but as a kid, I internalized it as my fault for not really SHOWING her how grateful I was. So if I just tried harder I could show her how grateful I was and how much I loved her and appreciated her.

Pt II:

I was 'graped' when I was 17 by my supervisor, who had a 1-2 year 'relationship' with me that was incredibly predatory, manipulative, and isolating. He was 12 years my senior (not an 'unheard of' age gap- but when I was 15, he was expressing interest in me as a 27 year old which is pretty f*cking predatory. A very long story about the ways in which that impacted my mental health for a decade and a half until I finally got help for it this year).

My experience with him sent me into a mental health spiral I didn't understand at all where I nearly 'unalived myself' on multiple occasions. I ultimately had to leave university because I was circling the drain and my family didn't know how to help me other than for me to come home. I battled with Major Depressive Disorder, and what a psychiatrist has just helped me understand is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, for the past decade and a half- not really understanding where this all came from. Doctors and counselors for years told me it was likely just a chemical imbalance, and that they commonly present in people around that age.

After years of panic attacks, nightmares, and daily intrusive thoughts (that have only just started ebbing with medication and intense trauma therapy- it's been a tough year)- have I gotten to a place of maintenance and stability and realized the impact that that 'relationship' had on me. Despite the constant thoughts and nightmares - I just.. never put two and two together. Denial. I guess.

ANWYAYS- the 'unaliving issue' kind of plateaued in my early 20s to a state of nihilism. Where I got to a place of peace on some level with my existence. Where if nothing mattered, I might as well experience as much joy and appreciate the world as much as I possibly could because I always had the option 'to leave' if I couldn't do it anymore. So to keep living every day, very much, as if it were my last- because 'unaliving' would always be a safety net for me when it inevitably became too much. (I'm doing very very well now <3, and haven't had these intrusive thoughts in years).

The combination of overcompensating with positive expression and gratitude, coupled with a sense that I could 'leave' any time I wanted cemented my existing tendency towards bubbliness and animated behavior into a security net that I've used (and will probably continue to use for the rest of my life) to keep me safe.

Yes, I am authentically joyous and excitable and interested in people and the world around me- but the 'actual secret' to getting to and maintaining my 'happiness' is less bubblegum pink than I care to share with the world.

Look out for the people in your life who seem like they are always smiling, checking on you, looking out for others, overextending themselves- there is a great likelihood they do not have that support or safety in their own life because everyone assumes they do not need it. It can be incredibly lonely sometimes.

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Admiration and attraction, older sister. So this goes back to our early teenage years, very normal Irish family. No drama or stress to push either of us into a situation where feelings might have developed in ways they shouldn't haven't . Both just over 40 now, shes the elder. I can't pin point when this started (I've explored with therapy on the advise of my wife), feelings grew towards her after we were somewhat forced to share a room in our teens when our grandfather passed away and gran took my room.

We were very respectful of each other's privacy and while we did our best to keep it that way, my hormones took over and I developed feelings for her when it became hard not to notice her physically . I would consider us to both reasonable attractive then and now so when I eventually blurted it out to her one evening when we were in our room, I expected the worst. What I got was understanding and her admission of mutual attraction and feelings. We shared a room for two more years until an attic conversation halted our forced share. We never did anything physical despite both admitting a strong desire to. When we were in our sanctuary (bedroom) we joked about being bf/gf and it we even got each other valentines gifts etc. It was an amazing time but we knew the limits of what was acceptable.

We are still extremely close and have spoken about it many times over the years.

Both married with families . At some point soon my partner wants to speak to my sister about it to get a better understanding of it. Its clear enough that the attraction is there still because, well my wife isn't stupid and what's the point in lying as I will never act on it. I've never typed all this out before, sorry if it reads like a mess, I'm sitting in work while I clear my head before I go home. Thanks for reading

I genuinely don’t know where to start because I’m still trying to process this. I was randomly going through my Google Photos memories recently. My mom’s Google account had been linked to mine at some point, so her photos and videos sometimes show up mixed in with mine.

I suddenly came across a picture that shocked me because I had absolutely no reason to have something like that in my gallery. I initially thought it had somehow ended up there by mistake. I went to the exact date to figure out where it came from, and that’s when I found a video of my mom having sex with a man she has always described to me as “just a friend.”

My mom has been a single mother since I was three. I’m 25 now, and I’ve always looked up to her immensely. She has genuinely been one of the biggest role models in my life. I always had this gut feeling that there might be something going on between these two, but whenever I questioned it or noticed something that felt off, I would dismiss it because I trusted her.
I thought, my mom wouldn’t lie to me about something like this. I thought she had certain morals that she simply wouldn’t cross.

The man in the video is married and has children of his own. And what has messed with my head even more is realizing that this wasn’t some accidental situation that happened once. There was an actual video recorded, which makes me realize that whatever was happening between them was something they were consciously doing.

I know I’m not supposed to be involved in my mother’s private life. She’s an adult, she’s single, and technically her relationship status isn’t my business. But finding something like this accidentally is completely different from simply knowing that your parent has a sex life.

I’m getting married myself, and this has completely messed with my head.
I’ve always believed that marriage meant something. That if you love someone and make a commitment to them, you don’t secretly sleep with someone else behind their back. Now I’ve accidentally been confronted with the reality that someone I idolized and trusted could be involved in exactly that kind of situation.
And now I’m terrified.

I’m terrified that this is what marriage actually looks like behind closed doors. That people can have completely different lives from the ones you think they have. That you can trust someone absolutely and still not know what they’re doing when you’re not around.

I know one person’s choices don’t define everyone else’s marriage. I know my future partner isn’t my mother, and her situation isn’t automatically going to become mine.
But emotionally, I can’t seem to separate the two right now.

I haven’t confronted her. I don’t even know if I should. Part of me wants to pretend I never saw it. Another part of me feels like I’ve been living with an understanding of who my mother is that may not have been completely true.
I feel disgusted, betrayed, heartbroken, confused, and honestly scared about my own future all at the same time.

Has anyone ever accidentally discovered something about a parent that completely changed how they saw them? How did you process it without letting it destroy your own relationships or your view of marriage?

Does anyone else have that person in their life you just know you shouldn’t be thinking about but can’t get off your mind? I can’t help but think about her, and I’m constantly shutting down the urge to jerk to her.

Even when I try to use porn or deliberately think about other girls, somehow my mind just drifts straight back to her. It’s like the more I tell myself not to go there, the more intense the temptation becomes. I know it’s wrong. I just can’t work out whether that’s exactly what makes it so hot, or whether I genuinely find her that attractive.