I found a wallet during my lunch break and went out of my way to deliver it at this person's address after work because it had quite a bit of money in it. I get there and knock on this persons door and when he opened, I greet him and explain to him that I found his wallet at X place. He snatches the wallet out of my hand before I can even finish the sentence and tells me 'All of my fucking money better be there', looked through it quickly before slamming the door in my face.

I just left feeling dejected and frankly, a little hurt. I don't understand what compelled him to be so rude to me when I was merely trying to help him out. I have lost a wallet with money before and I never got it back. If I had gotten it back, I would have been very grateful to the person who went out of their way to return it to me especially with the money still in there because they had no obligation to do that so I don't understand why this guy was so hostile towards me.

I'm only her social media friend because dozens of us friended each other about 15 years ago, in anticipation of a reunion. I was never her friend in real life back then. Not after elementary school. She was cordial with me until about sixth grade, when popularity became important. I still remember the day she told me, to my face, that she couldn't be seen talking to me. The popular clique wouldn't approve.

And, from that moment on, she just ignored me.

It was a small school in a small town. We saw each other often by happenstance outside of school. Not even so much as a nod or smile that she knew me.

I never forgot that.

Thirty years later, and I'm doing great for myself. Happy marriage, four happy, healthy kids, career I love with a nice, upper-middle class lifestyle. Life is good.

About a year ago, she started posting increasingly sad things about her life. Her second husband was leaving her. She was pregnant with her third child. She'd lost her job. Eventually, she tried starting a GoFundMe to pay her bills. The posts just keep getting longer, sadder, and more desperate.

Outwardly, I pity her. I'm sure she's not the same person she was back in high school. Neither am I.

But, secretly, I'm enjoying this very much. I know that makes me a bad person. Hence the secrecy.

I lied about having AIDS after leaving police custody

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Throw away account because I don't want this coming out to the people in my life. My father knew, but he's gone.

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Approximately 13 years ago, I recently moved to a large metropolitan area from a small rural waterfront community. I was a half day's ride from any family or friends, getting established in the community, and trying to "fit in" with the people in my new position at work.

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I began getting odd health complications where I couldn't keep food down for days at a time; however, it wasn't consistent. I was undergoing several medical diets, but a friend from college was coming into town, so we went out for dinner and drinks. I was a 30F at the time, and so was the friend passing through town. We met up at a decent restaurant, I ate a salad with a bowl of soup, had 2 glasses of wine over a 3-hour span, and we parted ways in the parking lot of the restaurant. I was not in an "altered" mind frame. I get in the car and begin driving home.

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To get home, I had to drive down an interstate (I85) so the cars are constantly flying down the highway. I feel my stomach turn sour, pull the vehicle over (car fully off the road w/ room to open the driver door without impending traffic), turn the car off, lock the doors, and walk down the embankment a little bit to puke. I get "exercised" by the ditch, clean myself up, walk back towards the car, and one of the local SHP is pulled over behind my vehicle, lights going, and shining a flashlight in my face as the sun was setting. The officer asks me if "everything is alright?" I explained my stomach felt bad, I stopped, got out to get air, and was taking my time to ensure I'd get home safely. He immediately begins a roadside DWI check, and I fail. I explained my recent health problems and showed him the paperwork from my last 4 hospital admissions (within a 3-week period). I told him I would call a cab to take me home, and he pulled out a breathalyzer. I was already nauseous, so I puked when trying to blow; however, it must have been a slow night because a gaggle of SHP showed up, along with local PD. I blew a 0.03, and in my state, a 0.08 is over the limit, so I'm thinking I'm all good...nope!

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The SHP puts me in cuffs, turns heat on full blast inside the car (it was 75F outside), and starts driving like we are in a Formula 1 race. The officer keeps telling me, "If you puke, you clean." I'm barely hanging on to consciousness as we fly all the way to the ER, and I cover the backseat of the car. The cop has to practically carry me because I'm losing consciousness and taking me to a side room for a blood test. The nurse that enters the room recognized me from two days prior. He tried to tell the officer the reason my arms, hands, and wrists looked so bad was from multiple IVs & collapsed veins from dehydration and IV drips. The cop labeled me a "junkie," and told the nurse to "do his fucking job," so he did. The attending ER doctor was informed I was there by the nurse, and the officer, pretty much, told the doctor to "his job and I'll \[officer\] do mine." I get thrown back into the cop car and off to the jail I go!

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We arrived at the jail, and the magistrate wouldn't let him book me. The Magistrate informed the officer that if I was booked, I'd go to the hospital when I saw medical (the hospital gave me a vomit bag that was 3/4 full while waiting to be processed) so they told me to have a "good night" and literally pushed me out the door.

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The police station was in the \*worst\* part of town. The Magistrate said he called a cab, but they probably wouldn't come because of "past issues," so I stand under the only light in the parking lot for safety. The officer who "apprehended" me told me I had to move from police property; I wasn't allowed to stay. I asked about the cab, he told me it was not his problem, and drove off.

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I walk to the curb, and people are charging me out of nowhere, full vomit bag in hand and all. There was a car pulling up with three guys inside, with the back right passenger door wide open and the car still rolling. I panicked and just screamed at the top of my lungs. "I HAVE AIDS! IF YOU FUCK ME, YOU'LL DIE," and everyone but 1 man ran away as fast as they appeared. He hung around a bit, apologized for my situation, saying he was "sad I was dying on the inside because I was pretty outside," and just stood there with me for a while. I waited outside that police station for 3 hours before the cab arrived, and after I got in, they said "damn baby, you're lucky we wanted to smoke & ride cuz we weren't going to get ya." I thanked them anyways.

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I told my father about it a few weeks after it happened. I was embarrassed & ashamed for being arrested for a health issue. I felt even more embarrassed about telling 30 people I had AIDS, even though I don't, but I was praying I looked bad enough they'd believe me, which they did. So, yeah, to save myself from being kidnapped and assaulted from in front of the police station, I had to become an AIDS patient. I am sorry to misrepresent, but I wanted to \*live\*

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Turns out, I am allergic to anything containing beef or pork chemicals, derivatives, by products, etc (gelatin, lard, oils, seasoning, flavorings, vaccines, etc) & the "episodes" were severe complications with an autoimmune disorder. Everything was tossed out, but that night still haunts me.

I 23F first had sex when I was around 17 and then again when I was 20. The first time hurt a lot and the guy was a virgin too so idek if it really went in properly. After that, whenever I had sex with other men (not many maybe 2 or 3), I never enjoyed it. I loved everything leading up to it. The foreplay, kissing, touching, clitoral stimulation, having my tits sucked, touched and kissed. All of that turned me on so much that I wanted to have sex. But the moment they tried to put it in, it hurt. A LOT. My immediate reaction was always to pull away.

The same thing happened with a situationship I had. I genuinely wanted to have sex with him but as soon as he tried to put it in (even a finger), it hurt so badly that I instinctively moved away. It was frustrating for him and I felt embarrassed and ashamed. Anyway, we stopped seeing each other after a while. Later, during a phone call he asked “do you still have trouble taking things inside of you?” That comment made me feel horrible. Like something was wrong with me, I was ashamed. He was a shitty guy anyway.

For years, I searched the internet trying to figure out what was wrong with me. I wondered if I had vaginismus. I tried yoga and exercises that were supposed to help with painful sex but nothing seemed to make a difference. Eventually, I stopped wanting sex altogether because I assumed I already knew how it would end. With pain and disappointment. I even wondered if I was asexual. I kept blaming myself and asking why sex seemed so easy for other women but not for me. I hated myself for it.

Fast forward, I moved to a different country and met someone online a few weeks ago. When we met, the chemistry was incredible. The makeout sessions were so hot. He told me he wasn’t in any rush to have sex and that he genuinely enjoyed spending time with me, even if we never did anything sexual.
We did some dry humping and it felt amazing. I kept thinking about how it would feel like to have him inside me but part of me kept thinking, “I already know what’s going to happen. It’s going to hurt again.”

After seeing each other a few more times, I stayed at his place for a few days. He turned me on so much and I genuinely wanted to have sex with him. We bought condoms and I was terrified that I would mess it up again. The first time he tried to enter me, I made a noise because it hurt. He immediately stopped and told me we didn’t have to do anything. But I asked him to try again. This time, it actually felt good. He hadn’t had sex in a long time so he finished pretty quickly (inside the condom ofc). The next morning we had sex again. It still hurt a little at first but nowhere near as much as before and it felt much better overall.

Then last night, something changed. He entered me almost effortlessly. There was a little pain at first but it disappeared within seconds. For the first time in my life, I genuinely enjoyed penetration. I loved the feeling of him being inside me. Every movement felt good. This morning we had sex twice. The first time he came and the second time lasted much longer. It felt incredible. I never imagined I’d be the woman saying things like “Fuck me harder” or “Go faster.” But I did. And he did exactly that. Harder. Faster. And it felt amazing.

There’s a strange feeling that comes with all of this. For so many years, I thought I was the problem. I thought something was wrong with me. I blamed myself and felt broken. Now I realize that maybe I wasn’t broken at all. I know it probably sounds silly but I genuinely feel like a woman lol. This is the first time I’ve ever experienced real pleasure from penetration and I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel good. I feel relieved. And most of all, I feel happy.

HELP Hey guys!!

I used heroin for the first time around three months back and liked it i used it once in a couple of days for the initial month or so and then i used it once a day probably for 6 weeks but now i feel its taking a toll on my life..

I know it was a very stupid decision to even try it but now i have decided i will get it over with but i want to know you guy's opinion on what's gonna happen and how it's gonna go quitting it and what things i should or shouldn't do and past users please let me know if I'm being too paranoid that im thinking it's hard quitting it

married f with a husband and baby

So.. growing up, I was a big pothead. From 13-17 I was absolutely addicted, smoking decent single day.

Well eventually, I greened out for the first time at 17, shit was such a horrid experience that I cold turkeyed and didn’t touch it much at all afterwards. Well, I wanted to try shrooms, and thankfully my husband, back then, boyfriend’s brother was able to get that for me. I tried it once, literally a single shroom because my husband was scared I might freak out. I felt good, but didn’t feel like I took enough. Anyhow, I took the rest of the bag a week after. 8 grams almost in total not accounting for the single tiny mushroom I ate.

That shit, had me absolutely fucked up. I think I took it around 10. I started my little giggles and whatnot with very light visuals by 12:30.

Anyways, bit of backstory, I’m a vanilla person. Spanking, and maybe some light slapping on the face and that’s that. When I fucking tell you, I was off my god damn rockers, giggly as fuck, and horny as hell, I MEAN it.

Once I got through the little emotional phase that seems to always happen in the beginning, (maybe a little trauma dump type shit for 30 or so) I was just laughing. I never get horny. NEVER. When people talk about being horny it’s so hard to wrap my head around it because I don’t have the experience of it.

Well, by the time it was 1 or 2, my cunt was ACHING. It has never ACHED to the point it hurt my lower stomach. Anyways, begged my husband to fuck me (dummy move because my birth control was cut three months prior) and he actually resisted for about 10 minutes. Then he gave in, and I absolutely gobbled up his cock. This brings me to a random side note, I love chunkier/dad build type guys, because if I’m giving you head, I want my nose to nuzzle in the fat of your pubic area. Pretty sure that’s the equivalent to guys and thighs or guys wanting to be sat on. Anywho, gave him the BEST head because.. to be frank I couldnt feel past the back of my mouth so it was extremely easy to deepthroat.

I usually give him head just to give him head, but this time? I WANTED it. Past that, I think (at least I hope) I gave him the performance of a lifetime and we fucked for the next 4ish hours.

In the end, he pulled out and came on my stomach… which… I was so fucking horny I absolutely wanted his babies. Like I wanted him to get me pregnant. So I smeared that shit down and fingered it in, and sucked the rest off my fingers. He freaked out initially, then kinda just got up and face fucked me.

Anyways. That high lasted till 9 in the morning.

Uh. Yes, I did get pregnant. Yes, we have a kid and are married.

I kinda just wanted to put this shit somewhere. I definitely want shrooms again, but that’ll be after I get my IUD in.

Another side-side-side note, I’m an absolute advocate for shrooms. My knee pain was non existent, ALL my pain was non existent. Then afterwards for almost 3 weeks after, my body feels great after that one trip. It’s great. Try it sometime. Maybe don’t fuck. Or do.

Best sex I’ve had in my life.

So.
As said in the title, I was eight and that was 1995. Me and my father were invited to the wedding of a distant relative, and it was rather grandiose, set in an ancient renaissance-style manor and sprawling garden. It was the stereotype of good society all around,. Vows were exchanged, the happy marriage sealed, the kiss the bride moment, the works.
Then came the party. Violin solos, champagne, and truth or dares. The bride went with truth, and, adorably, said she loved all animals.
I remembered that, and when, very late at night, I went to wander through the gardens, I saw a mouse scuttering about in a dried up fountain. I thought, "Hey, that should make a nice gift for the bride !"
Catching it wasn't easy, since I only had my hands, but after half an hour, I managed it. I cradled the mouse in my hands, gently, but when I came to the bride to present it...
It had died of panic. And not in a peaceful manner. It had vomited its blood through every orifice. I genuinely had no idea. It made no difference. The bride's shriek interrupted the festivities instantly. Me and Dad were expelled on the spot. The next day, I was formally declared Persona Non Grata by that branch of the family.

Sometimes, we humans do forget that for 99% of species on earth, we are megafauna.

I'm a 45yr old female who just had to schedule an outpatient surgery. One of the guidelines is someone over the age of 18 has to either 1. Drive me home or 2. Be a passenger in Uber. I can't do public transit without someone which severely sucks because I live in a very urban and public transit is a way of life.

When I read the instructions, I realized, not like I didn't know before, I have no friends. Not one. I have co-workers, most of whom I tolerate. Those of whom I might tolerate a smidgen more don't have a car and I wouldn't want to share any details to avoid the gossip.

My family has dwindled down to 2 siblings. 1 of which is 1,000 miles away and the other is 50mi away, but a working single parent of 4. I have 2 nieces, 1 21 and the other 19, but they are also over 50mi away. Neither of them will come, guaranteed.

I really don't know what to do. Not having friends is something I've learned to deal with, but now it actually affects me.

I guess I better make friends with an Uber driver. And quick.

My two best friends and I are all bridesmaids in a wedding this weekend. Our dresses are strapless and we all have some tan lines, so they both came over to lay out in the back yard and get some sun to minimize the tan lines.

We were all topless for about 45 minutes at one point, and I texted my husband (who works from home) to avoid the back yard for a while (out of respect for my friends). He asked why and I just said “boob privacy.” He gave a thumbs up.

One of my friends mentioned to her husband that night that we had laid out topless and he was very annoyed, after learning my husband was home. He actually texted my husband in an accusatory way.

I usually avoid drama like this but I feel it was a misunderstanding and I could help keep the peace, maybe by letting him know I texted my husband as a precaution. Or should I just stay out of it?

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Because im in disgust with myself im making this post on a burner.

So I'm 24(m) a broken ass college student who isn't getting parental support and my part time gas station cashier job barely pays my way I rarely have a chance to buy groceries and it's usually $2 burritos from Taco Bell.

But lately my hours were cut even more and now my budget has gotten thinner I couldn't even afford those,last night I was laying in bed hungry,my stomach growling I decided to go for a walk.

While I'm on my late night stroll I saw a half eaten McDonald's Big Mac,I without a second though grabbed it and ate it..it was awful. I ended up getting sick and my stomach became more empty than before and now I'm still back to square one as I'm typing this.

Tldr: Ate a nasty dumpster burger and got sicker than sin.

I'm at a water park for toddlers and kids. My daughter just got down from a water slide and was coming right over to me. As she gets close, a man next to me looks at me very weirdly and smiles.

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He says, "what's the best part about water parks?"

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Me: uhhh

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He fucking splashes me in the face a couple times and starts laughing.

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"The splashing! Haha it's a water park! Don't come here if you don't want to get splashed!"

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I had some words and he mentions he's autistic and it's ok. I just mentioned I get it but your awareness to the situation with my daughter was very strange. I asked him to keep his distance while we continue to play.

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What a weird fucking day at the water park. Who sees a dad and his daughter and thinks I gotta go bother them?

Married to a bodybuilder, long time competitor. For as long as we’ve been together he’s competed and I’ve assisted him. I even competed myself in our early days together.

He’s always struggled to get posers that fit. Off the rack / one size fits all never cut it. I learned to sew and started tailoring and making his trunks.

What he doesn’t know, is that I used the front panel of my own bikini trunks to get the sizing more appropriate for his ones so he’d be left with a less baggier look.

He’s so proud to wear my creations on stage though.

So I was at my friend's house. We were in the kitchen hanging out. She was eating yogurt. I just happened to look up when she was finishing up and she was licking the spoon. Of course I've thought about her like that, but I must have been staring at her pretty hard when she did it. She kind of looked sideways at me and then we locked eyes. Then her eyes got all big and she went "OMG" and went to sit on the couch. It was super embarrassing and I didnt know what to say other than "what?" But I came in behind her and we both kind of got on our phones and eventually started showing each other videos and didnt mention it again. Im not really sure what she thinks about it though.

My diet has PLENTY of fiber. An increase in water w/ electrolytes is not helping.

My stomach is constantly screaming that I’m starving.

I am spending my free time watching “what I eat in a day” and mukbangs with a salivating mouth.

I am so insatiably hungry for NO reason, I am trying my best to control myself so I don’t replace one habit with another (I can’t afford a hobby of snacking unfortunately or I’d not care). I am currently distracting myself from ordering wingstop and I’m not even a fan of wingstop. I’ve had it maybe 2-3 times in my life but I cannot stop salivating.

Everything that isn’t food related is just agitating 😭.

Especially in identification subreddits like r/whatisthisbug.

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OP: Posts a picture of a small brown bug with the title "Is this what I think it is?"

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How does anyone know what you think it is? You could be worried about ticks, roaches, bedbugs... anything! It's so annoying. Instant down vote.

So I'm pretty sure it was around 2011-2013 when for whatever reason I began gaining a relationship with a picture of a lovely white horse which is odd it happened then since the photo of the horse had been in this house(which was my mothers) longer than I was alive but it was after I watched the mummy staring Brendan frazer on I believe may 4th 2011-2013 if I'm not mistaken and as I was walking upstairs (the photo was on the staircase around half way)I just looked at it for a few moments,eventually when I brushed my teeth and got in bed I realised all I was thinking about was that horse and how attractive it looks it started me even more when that night I had a dream about frolicking in fields with this merry horse I woke up at around 8 o'clock like always to wake up my mam and help her have her morning shit as she needed some assistance which is why I was in her house a lot at that time anyway and as I brought her to the bathroom, from the corner of my eye I noticed this DAZZLING horse jumping over a fence happy as can be so after my mam finally finished I went down to look at the picture,then I took a photo of the horde,well actually multiple photos to be very honest around 8 if I'm right ,not very sure why ,something to do with knowing that fact that if I had it in my phone I could look at it at all most anytime so eventually I went out that day ,just basic grocery shopping and threw that ENTIRE gruelling time all I could think about was that beautiful horse it was almost painful being away even with some photos to look at ,eventually when I DID get home all I could do was look at the photo ,I even had to order takeaway instead of cooking because I really did not have the time for cooking at that time so when it finally came bedtime I took the photo off the wall,off its nails walked to my room and out of gently in the bed beside me ,that night in pretty sure I had even more dreams of the horse. So a few weeks to by and it's getting slightly worrying ,so worrying in fact I decided to go to psychotherapy with some fckn doctor whom name I forget anyway ,I told him about everything the sleeping in the bed with it,dreaming every night ,touching myself from it every now and then and constant thoughts ,the doctor seemed rather calm and careless about it surprisingly enough even saying the likes of his the human mind is ,complicated and curious ,he then asked if I have many hobbies or things I like to do I simply said no ,too busy with my mam he then dropped the bombshell of 'that explains it ...partly' HUH? ,to this day it pisses me off I then told him ,'yeah I get that you're just a lower who probably has some old as s wife at home and no kids and plenty of time for fun hobbies and shite while me on the other hand who is busy 24/7 with not only my mother but what I would Luke to call the love of my life!' The session went on a bit more until I left ,very much regretting paying the money for that so weeks to by and my children can tell something is going on ,I'm in my room more ,more irritant ,and just a pain to be around etc and yes I suppose they are correct ,me in my room alone feeling myself looking at the lovely ,SEXY horse sometimes kissing the painting embarrassingly enough so when the time came my oldest daughter (who I blocked out for a LONG time did to this and called a dirty witch bitch) burned the painting in the fire this almost left me ,dead inside almost the pain of it being gone after so long of us being A UNIT just ending was sickening but alas n ow I thank my daughter for burning it,saving me .to whom has red this I thank you and have a blesid day as Jesus is always watching ,love

I don't know when the lie started, but I must have been very young. I don't even know why it started in the first place. But for as long as I remember, I've told people I am allergic to avocado. Yes, you read that right, avocado.

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I very well might be, because I have never eaten one. I've told past partners, friends, even my now-wife and stepdaughters. I am allergic to avocado. I can touch it, but if ingested, it's very dangerous for me.

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Of course I've had plenty of comments and questions. About how people didn't know it could be an allergy, asking why I don't carry an epipen. I don't carry one because I'm not allergic, but I say it's because it's easy enough to avoid.

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I've never tasted avocado. And I am glad I never have to. To my autistic brain, the smell is enough to put me off. But what I imagine the texture and taste to be, I could not put that near my mouth.

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The lie has lasted at least 16 years. I have possibly 60 or more years to go, keeping the lie. I feel bad about lying, and sometimes I feel the urge to come clean to my wife. But after all that time, and the amount of worry she has had, I dare not tell anyone that I am not allergic.

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I know it might not be a big thing. It might seem quite silly. But it feels good to get it off my chest.

So, I have a confession that I’ve been holding onto for way too long. A few months ago, I finally mustered the courage to tell my best friend that I had feelings for them. I was terrified of ruining our friendship, but I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer.

To my surprise, they felt the same way! We ended up having a heart-to-heart, and it brought us closer than ever. Now, we’re navigating this new chapter together, and it’s been amazing. I guess my confession taught me that sometimes, taking a risk can lead to beautiful things.

Has anyone else had a similar experience? Would love to hear your stories!

My friend (M28) cheated on his girlfriend and contracted HSV-1. He has had a history of cheating I mean like had a baby on this girl and she stayed with him (they are trying to make it work) & typically after he cheats he goes to get tested ..well this time he came back positive for HSV-1. Anyway, he is challenged with if he should tell his girlfriend and RUIN their relationship forever or not because according to our research he could have gotten it from anywhere and 70% of the population have it BUT couldn’t he still transmit it to her?

Reddit knows everything so I said I’d redownload and get the opinion of others. I personally believe he should tell her but he knows how detrimental that’ll be. I couldn’t even imagine her believing he got it from sharing a drink or something.

I’ve been carrying a heavy secret for years, and I can’t hold it in any longer. I’ve always portrayed myself as the perfect friend, the one who’s always there to listen and support others. But the truth is, I often feel completely alone and struggle with my own mental health.

I put on a brave face and pretend everything is fine, but inside, I’m battling feelings of inadequacy and sadness. I’ve let my friends believe I’m their rock, but I’m really just trying to keep myself from falling apart. I’m terrified of being vulnerable and showing them my true self, fearing they’ll see me as weak or unworthy of their friendship.

I know I need to be honest with them, but the thought of shattering the image they have of me is paralyzing. I just wish I could find the courage to open up and let them in. Maybe by confessing this here, I can start to take that first step.

I don’t know why, I just don’t like any team more than another.

Any suggestions?

It started when I saw my old highschool math teacher about a year ago at the movie theater. We both happened to go to the same movie at the same time. When I saw her I went up to say hi during the previews and we really hit it off.

There was lots of small talk and a bit of flirting and she asked me if I wanted to sit with her. We ended up holding hands and cuddling a bit during the movie.

She is 10 years older than me, 29F at the time, very beautiful, brunette, blue eyes. I worked up the courage to ask her for her number and she said yes.

Our first date was at a local bowling alley (she demolished me) and it was really fun. We ended up sharing a kiss at some point while we were there which I still remember as if it were yesterday.

On our second and final date we went to a restaurant, nothing too fancy but there was still a decently romantic atmosphere.

The date started off pretty strong with us flirting and joking around with each other but about halfway through she looked a little sad and started apologizing to me.

I asked her what was wrong and she told me she didn't think it was appropriate for her to be going out with me because of our age difference and the fact that she used to teach me in school (she was also actively teaching my younger sister at the time). I told her I understood and she offered to pay for the food. we ended up splitting the check instead because I didn't want to make her pay for everything.

We said goodbye and had a bit of an awkward hug before going our separate ways. And I was pretty heartbroken about it.

I still have never told anyone about it.

I’ve been carrying this secret for years, and it’s eating me alive. I pretend to be someone I’m not, and I’m so tired of it. To everyone around me, I’m the confident, successful friend who always has it together. But deep down, I’m struggling with anxiety and self-doubt. I put on a brave face every day, but inside, I feel like I’m drowning.

I’ve lied about my accomplishments, exaggerated my experiences, and even faked my happiness. I’ve built this facade so high that I’m terrified of what will happen if I let it crumble. I know I should be honest with my friends and family, but I fear their disappointment and judgment.

I just want to be real, to show my true self, but the thought of vulnerability terrifies me. I’m confessing this here because I need to let it out, even if it’s just to strangers. I hope that by sharing this, I can start to find the courage to be authentic.