‼️TW: abuse, SA/grape‼️ TLDR: I shot and 💀 my grapist and no one knows except the police and the detectives that worked the case. When I was 16, there was an older man at my church that was a well known regular and he always paid a little more attention to me than people normally did. He came up to me one day after I stormed out of service because my mom had said something mean to me. From there on, I would tell him about the things my abusive mom did to me and at the time it felt like he was the only person that believed me. I was being raised by a single mom and didn’t know how to appropriately interact with men. I thought he was being nice. Obviously he took advantage of my naivety. I ended up talking to this man for about 6 months. We would “sneak away” to a closet or empty room to “cuddle” when there was a break before the next service or group started. One day he gave me a tracphone to text him on, because my mom kept taking my cell phone away from me. Shortly after I started messaging him on that phone, he began to ask for explicit photos and videos, threatening to tell my mom that I was trying to get her arrested or something if I didn’t send them. Ofc it escalated to more serious threats of bodily harm or sharing my explicit photos with the entire church. One night when my parents went on a trip and left me alone in the house, I snuck out and met up with him. At first I tried to go back to my house but he pointed a gun at me and told me to get into the car. We went to a motel and I saw him toss the gun onto the bed before he…yk. I’ll skip the details but you can assume what happened. Afterwards, he turned away from me to get up and I somehow flung myself as hard as I could and managed to grab the gun and fired three shots directly at his head. My mom knew what happened that night but only the detective and the cops knew that I had actually delivered the shots. I told my mom he did it to himself. Idk if she believed me but we don’t talk about it. I haven’t told anyone (including my therapist) that he didn’t end his own life. I just never want anyone to ever picture me doing that. I’d be too painful I think for them and I don’t want to be treated like a kicked puppy.

I need to feel heard. My husband (early 40’s) and I (mid 30’s) have been together for 6 years, we own a home, our lives are combined, and I love him. We are the cool Aunt & Uncle type, not parents. I don’t know where to start so I’m going to just dive in. The older I get, the stronger, more fit, and hornier I become. I turn feral during certain phases of the moon. He is always down to fuck, or just to eat for as long as it takes. There are other issues that get in the way of us not having sex as much as I want. For him, it’s mostly been his depression. It’s being addressed with medication that unfortunately lowers his libido. And his back pain from his job. I’ve always been experimental, and he knows about my past. (open relationships, threesomes, kinky monotonous stuff too) His history is 3 women, one was his ex-wife for 8 years. He has been wanting to explore in his past, but has lived rather vanilla until me. He’s usually down for anything I suggest, but I fear he pushes himself in fear of losing me. I’ve seen it in the past, and I think he will ultimately resent me or view me as a cheater. I’m not willing to risk our relationship. We’ve shared so much. Travelling, cancer & death in the family, new careers, giant familial changes, covid! I would choose to never have sex again before losing what we’ve built. This is the most stable life I could imagine for myself. But he is getting so gross. Married with children, king of queens, the brother in law from national lampoons Christmas type of gross! And he knows it. He laughs about it sometimes. The burps, the “catching” himself chewing with his mouth open, the farting, the obnoxiousness, the nail clippings, the complaining, the bad breath! I understand men can be gross. But I’m struggling to want this sniffing, whiny, acting older than his age man to fuck me! I expect what I give. I stay clean, work out, put in the work, flirt, send weird sexy shit when he needs an ego boost. I think it’s the approaching menopause that’s making me feral. I’m turned on by so many things throughout the day. And when my surroundings are dull, my mind gets to work. I’m on the treadmill thinking about the janitor and an alien Eiffel towering me in front of the mirrors. But I am struggling to be attracted to him. I’ve worked in senior care, education, er, psychiatric wards, and retail. So I know how gross everyone can be. And finding someone you love is loving their dirty bits too. As I age I’m sure there’s going to be gross shit he has to do for me. I want to grow old with him, but not yet. Is this a phase everyone goes through? Is it a straight white male with only brothers type thing? Am I just over analyzing a man trying to make me happy? Any advice is welcome 🙏

I was 22, it was the night before my wedding and I did what usually brides do and spend the night away from my to be husband at his sisters house We all crashed in the living room and as I'm falling asleep on the couch I feel fingers feeling around on the cushion. Then I feel fingers on my skin. I shoved the hand away thinking someone is just flailing in their sleep. Then a man's hand grabs by left breasts and squeezes, I hear a chuckle, then snoring. I laid there in shock for the rest of the night too scared to move This was 20 years ago but I still think about it. I never told a soul.

I feel sick to my stomach typing this. I never wanted a single penny from this woman and now I’m terrified I’ve walked into a complete nightmare. For the past three years, I helped my 78-year-old neighbor, Evelyn. She had bad knees and lived alone, so I’d shovel her walk, carry her groceries up teh porch, and sit with her on Sundays drinking black coffee so she wouldn’t be lonely. I loved her like my own grandma. Her two adult kids lived forty minutes away and literally visited twice a year. She passed away in her sleep two weeks ago. Yesterday, her estate lawyer called me into his office. Evelyn updated her will six months ago and left me $30,000 to "pay off those damn student loans." Attached was a note from her strictly telling me not to say a word to her kids until probate cleared, writing: "They only love my bank account, don’t you dare give them a dime." today her son cornered me by my mailbox, red-faced, accusing me of "coaching" his mother and demanding to know where her savings went. I stood there shaking, played dumb, and said I had no idea. I haven’t touched the money. Part of me wants to just give it all to them so they leave me alone, but another part of me feels like that would be betraying Evelyn's last wish. Am I a terrible person for keeping it?

BACKGROUND: my 14 year old son is suffering from a lot of strange symptoms, including fecal incontinence, anxiety, depression, social isolation, you name it. He’s had to wear a diaper since he was seven when these strange symptoms appeared. We thought maybe it was a phase but it’s persisted for seven frigging years. We’ve been trying to get him to do two things: stay engaged in home school and get his bloods drawn for a diagnosis. He’s bad at the first and non compliant at the second. We’ve tried various medications over the years but he is non compliant in the extreme, and my wife and I were afraid to push him to take them because we are worried he will self-harm (he hasn’t yet but has threatened to). We’ve recently started him on Guanfacine and the results have been amazing - he actually comes out of his room, engages with us, has developed an interest in chess, and it’s actually helping his incontinence (he’s feeling urges again and is starting to regain bowel control). We’ve been so happy to have him “back”. Tonight things went sideways. Normally I watch him take his meds and I noticed he had brought the bottle into his room with him. This has always preceded non compliance. (And against my wishes my wife allowed him to put a lock on the door in the past, and i never agreed to that.) I told him to open his door so I could watch him take the meds. He refused. I begged pleaded and never got angry for ten solid minutes. Finally I told him if he didn’t open the door I was going through it. He still refused. So I went through it. Pushed and yanked on the top of the door until I broke it, bent it inward, unlocked it, stepped inside, and immediately sat on his chair calmly so he’d know I wasn’t angry (I wasn’t, I was terrified we would lose him again to non-compliance). He wasn’t yelling but he was angry. I calmly explained that he doesn’t have the right to a lock anymore, and he has to take the meds while we’re watching. I explained how much I miss him being able to function normally and engage with us. He finally after ten minutes of me being calm and gently requesting, took the pill. I immediately got up went over hugged him and told him I love him so much. Then I left the room because I was crying. I know he needs the meds. And I want my sweet boy back so bad I would give my life if it meant he’d get better and get happy again. I hate that I had to do this because I’m a very large and intimidating man and he’s been scared of me in the past when he saw me get mad at my neighbors for an unrelated issue. I wish to god I had a key for that lock but these are the kind that don’t have keys. (Our policy on locks changed tonight obviously). Anyway he’s sleeping soundly now. I told him how much I loved him and want him to get better. He didn’t yell at me but I could tell he was upset about the whole thing. In my heart I know I did the right thing because he has to stay on this med to function at all. But it hurts so damn much.

My husband has committed an offence against marriage and I need the public to know. He announces that he’s hungry and really wants something with burrata. Fine. Loving wife that I am, I make him a beautiful plate — whole burrata, salad, everything. As I’m making myself one, he goes: “Oh no, I can’t eat a whole burrata.” So, naturally, I think fine, I’ll just share his. I DON’T MAKE MYSELF ONE. This man then takes the plate and proceeds to absolutely stuff his face. Eats ALL the salad. Eats ALL the stracciatella — you know, the glorious creamy middle of the burrata that is literally THE ENTIRE POINT and the bit I was planning to dip the salad into. And what does he leave his wife? HALF. THE. BURRATA. SKIN. Just the sad mozzarella carcass. I am genuinely furious because I was looking forward to that bloody burrata, my salad was completely unsatisfying without it, and I have now spent the last hour eating random stupid food even though I’m not hungry because I DIDN’T GET THE THING I ACTUALLY WANTED. This is amateur boyfriend behaviour. Rookie level. You have a WIFE. You should know better. There is another burrata in the fridge but that is absolutely not the point. The trust is gone.

I honestly don't even know how to start this because if anyone had told me a year ago that this would happen, I would've laughed in their face. For some background, my best friend, let's call him Jake (18M), and I (18F) have known each other literally our entire lives. Our moms met when they were younger and became best friends, so naturally, Jake and I grew up together. Family dinners, birthdays, holidays, sleepovers, vacations, you name it. If one family was doing something, the other family was usually invited. Our moms joke that we're basically their kids together. They have always said that someday we'd probably end up married, and we'd both immediately gag and tell them to shut up. Jake has always been my person. He's the first person I call when something happens, the person who knows every embarrassing thing about me, and the person I can sit in complete silence with without it being awkward. We've always been close, but recently, something changed. We're currently on vacation with both of our families. It's something we've done almost every October since we were little. We're both 18 now, so our parents have started giving us more freedom instead of treating us like we're still ten years old. A few nights into the trip, Jake and I were sitting together after everyone else had gone to bed. We were talking about relationships since we both recently broke up with our exes, past crushes, and the usual random stuff we talk about at night. Somehow, the conversation turned into whether we'd ever considered dating each other. We laughed at first because, seriously, we've known each other since we were practically babies. But then things got quiet, and I realized neither of us was actually laughing anymore. He admitted he'd thought about it before. I told him I had too. And one thing led to another, and we kissed. I wish I could say we immediately talked about it and figured everything out, but we didn't. We ended up kissing again the next night, and now we've started secretly sleeping together while we're on vacation. I'm not going to get into the intimate details, but the biggest thing is that this isn't just some random vacation fling with a guy I barely know. This is Jake. My BEST FRIEND. The guy who's been in practically every childhood memory I have. And the confusing part? I don't regret it. Being around him feels different now. Every time he looks at me across the dinner table, I have to pretend nothing is happening. When our moms start talking about how cute we were as little kids, I nearly choke on my drink because if they knew what was happening now, they'd probably lose their minds in a good way of course same with our sisters since they want to be related. The best part is that Jake seems just as happy about this as I am. He's been more affectionate clingy and, he keeps finding excuses to be around me, and last night he told me he doesn't want this to be something that only happens on vacation and I don't want that either i want this to be a actual relationship. Edit: Okay everyone this is a real story! But i made it way too long and I wanted it to sound more fluent! So did I use chat gpt for errors and repeats of words cause I use "like" and "because" way too much! So other than that this story is true and I did write it!

TW: Suicide My Dad FaceTimed me a couple hours ago and immediately asked me to add all of my siblings to the call… so I knew something was wrong. As we waited for each of them to answer, I kept wracking my brain for what he was about to tell us. Never did I think the words, “Your grandfather took his own life today,” would come out of his mouth. I have never seen my Dad cry until today. I guess my Grandpa emptied my grandparents’ checking and savings accounts, and a few weeks ago my Grandma found out. When she asked him where the money was and how long he’d been hiding it from her, he replied plainly, “Greed. You never take any risks.” My grandfather has always been amazing with money. In fact, he was the one who taught me how to invest, which stocks pay the highest dividends, and how to reinvest those dividends back into more stocks. I can’t even fathom that he’d be reckless with their money or make bad financial decisions. But alas, here we are. Both checking and savings accounts just… empty. My grandmother wondering where the money went and who she married. And my grandfather, a proud man who maybe felt trapped and shame? Who could’ve potentially been living a double life? Who wasn’t as financially stable as we all thought he was? The police officers found a letter in his pocket and would only tell us that it said he was sorry and he loved my Grandma. They won’t let us have or read the whole thing until they’ve completed their investigation. My gut says the answer is in that letter. And that it’s not something we thought he was ever capable of doing. I guess my confession here is that I think he felt trapped in the marriage to my Grandma and thought that was the only way out of it. I think he ended his life out of spite. For getting caught. For being monitored so closely. For feeling suffocated. I think he was selfish for only thinking of himself in that moment and not about the aftermath or how it would impact my grandmother. And I guess I also confess that it breaks my heart to even think those thoughts about him. He walked into a gun store today and bought a rifle. With her credit card. Then he drove home to pick her up and take her to a doctor’s appointment because she can’t drive. And instead of getting out of the car and going inside, he walked into the backyard and took his own life. And she heard the shot. He knew she would find him. I confess I am so angry with him for what he’s done to her and to our family.

My husband loves the "just waxed" feel of my pussy. He refers to it as his "Adult Slip 'n Slide." However, while I do like that he takes pleasure in it, pleasing him (or anyone else) isn't why I do it. I do it for purely selfish reasons. I do it for the same reason I continue to dye my roots every month. I'm 57yo, and don't want any gray hairs to remind me I'm getting old. I use to shave it, but find waxing to be less effort. Maybe I'll move to laser. And don't even start with dying it. While I might put it on my head, it's never going near my cootch.

I met this guy online a few days ago on a hookup app. We talked about doing a cnc scene. I sent him a list of "rules"/boundaries and established a safeword before he came over. Once he got here we immediately went to the bedroom. after doing our thing for a while, I had to use the safe word. he respected it and stopped. after taking a short break I said we could continue if he was more gentle. so we started having sex again, and at some point I had to use the safeword again. this time he didn't stop. he just switched from one hole to the other, which broke another boundary I had put in place earlier. after that I just kind of laid there and took it. I didn't protest, or say the safeword again. I don't remember what was going through my head at that moment, I guess i just froze? I don't really remember much of this encounter in all honesty, I got super crossfaded for this hookup so everything is jumbled and fuzzy. Everyone is saying that I was assaulted/raped, but it doesn't truly feel that way. I know logically what he did was wrong, but it's really not affecting me emotionally. honestly, all in all, I actually had a good time and I really want to see him again.

I was parentified by my birth parents. They relied on me to raise my younger siblings from the time I was about 5 or 6 and at the time I had two siblings already. They had five of us before we were removed by CPS and put in foster care and I requested to live apart from my siblings when it finally happened. At first it was denied but I was honest that I was ready to outright hate my siblings and make their lives hell for clinging to me and relying on me for everything to the point where I felt like I could crawl out of my own skin. I couldn't ever sleep alone or go anywhere without them rushing me and clinging to me. They would hurt me whenever they felt like we were going to be apart. Even for stuff like school (and this was before we were removed) I would be walking around with bruises. It was so bad. I really couldn't stand my siblings as bad as that sounds. There were days I really had to hold back yelling at them and telling them to leave me alone. By the time we were separated my siblings were so reliant on me that they did not do well when I was placed separately from them. I only know because of contact with two of them who are now out of foster care. But they were bounced around and kept screaming to have me back with them and they refused to participate in any of the therapy given to them. Meanwhile I ended up being adopted and I went on to do well in school for the first time ever and I was able to have a future I would not have been able to get with them. They have no idea I asked to be placed separately from them but they are angry I didn't get back in touch once I was 18. To be honest I don't even know if I would have ever reached out if they hadn't reached out to me first. And I don't see a relationship going anywhere either. Occasional calls will be the only contact I'm okay with given their feelings.

I (22M) moved into a new apartment about three months ago. I don’t know many people in the city, so I’ve been trying to socialize and find things to do. One of my neighbors is a 27F who lives with her six-year-old son. We exchanged contact information when we first met but never really talked much. Last weekend, she texted me asking for a favor because she’d lost her ID and wanted me to buy her some wine. I agreed, and she invited me over to drink with her. I wasn’t doing anything, so I went. We spent the night drinking, talking, singing karaoke, and dancing. She told me she had a long-distance boyfriend and that he knew I was over drinking with her. As we got drunker, things got physical, and we ended up making out on her couch. Eventually, she felt sick and threw up, so I helped her to bed and went back to my apartment. A couple of hours later, she texted me asking me to come back because she was feeling better. I knew I probably shouldn’t have gone back, but I did. We started making out again, and she told me she wanted to have sex. I hesitated because she had a boyfriend, but I eventually gave in. We had sex, and afterward, I made sure she was okay before leaving. I’d also brought her some ibuprofen because she had a headache. Now I’m sitting here wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. She’s my next-door neighbor, she has a boyfriend, and we’re inevitably going to see each other again. I also feel a little guilty about how drunk we both were that night. I haven’t been back over since, but I know we need to have a conversation about what happened. I just don’t know how to approach it without making things even more awkward.

i wanted to put this in a tiktok comment section but didn't want it traced to his account lol. basically, before i met my boyfriend, i was an extremely picky eater. i wouldn't try anything new, my plate was extremely beige. the only vegetables i tolerated were things like carrots, peppers, sweetcorn - the simple stuff. i also hated any sauces or anything remotely liquidated. i would've rather died before putting something like a mushroom anywhere near my mouth. it was to the point i considered getting tested for arfid. when i met him, i knew he was a gym rat. he'd tell me about all these extravagant meals he'd made, filled with all kinds of vegetables and things i didn't even know existed. i just nodded along as if i knew what he was on about lol. eventually the day came where i had to eat at his house. i'm celiac so eating out isn't something i really do, and since we couldn't settle on somewhere to eat, he suggested he cooked me something back at his place. i agreed happily, but was literally shitting myself inside. i watched him cook. the meal was chicken covered in a lemon & cream sauce, with potatoes and green beans. as mentioned before, i don't do sauces, especially creamy ones. i had never eaten a green bean in my life. not even kidding, i was terrified. i was thinking of excuses to leave or if there was a way i could politely mention i did not want to eat what was being served to me. nothing came to mind so i just started mentally preparing myself. quite literally repeating the words "it's just food i can do this" as if im hyping myself up to compete in a world championship competition. his parents were there too, and it was my first time meeting them. i couldn't stop dreading the moment i'd try this concoction, hate it, and embarass myself in front of a guy i really liked and his parents. after staring at the meal in defeat for a moment, i just swallowed the fear and shoved it down my throat. the worst part is, i liked it. it was really fucking good. and suddenly i'm questioning my entire life of refusing to try anything other than your standard beige food. i ate every last bit of the entire meal. i genuinely could not believe myself. since then, ive been to his house much more, and ate every meal cooked for me without hesitating. i'm eating things i never would've thought to even consider trying. after the first few times, i just decided id never tell him about how scared i was to eat a cream sauce and green beans. he does not know im picky. he probably thinks ive always eaten anything without issue. i even eat things he himself doesnt like now, and i definitely feel healthier now that i eat actual balanced meals. thing is, im genuinely thankful for him. if you told me 7 months ago i was eating a bowl full of mushrooms, i would've called you insane. i'm glad that being too anxious to pipe up about being picky changed my life for the better. maybe i'll tell him someday lol

so i (23f) gave my colleague (39m) head in work today and i just neeeeeed to get it off my chest. we’ve always had a sort of cheeky/flirty relationship and ive been into him since i started last year, but i assumed he wasn’t into me because ive heard him say the youngest he would ever date is 25/26 because he has a 23 year old niece. i thought he sort of viewed me as a kid. last week, i asked him to do something for me and he gave me a cheeky smirk and said ”what’s in it for me?”. i said “whatever you want.” and he said a blowjob. i laughed and said okay. i thought it was a joke because we would sometimes get on like that. this guy hasn’t had a girlfriend since he was around 18/early 20s btw. my colleagues say he’s totally shy and can’t talk to girls, and he’s told me before that he “doesn’t do one night stands,” so i never thought this would ever happen. anyway, he did the favour for me. throughout the week, he made comments and jokes about it. today, he said he was going down to an empty room to put something away and he was going to wait a few minutes extra in case i wanted to come down and ‘do what i owe’. we work in a doctors surgery. so i went down to the empty room - i thought he was messing with me, but at the same time i wanted to do it. i went in, he asked if i was going to do it, i talked about ‘what if we get caught’ etc and he said no one ever comes down here. i said “i can’t tell if you’re joking with me”. he said “do you need me to get my cock out to show you i’m serious?” and then he did, and he put it in my hand. i was so stunned, i was blushing. he asked me to get down on my knees, so i did. i gave him head for about 5-10 minutes and then he came in my mouth. after that, we left separately and we didn’t see or speak to each other for the rest of the day.. not necessarily intentionally, just that he was upstairs doing work and i was downstairs. im at that point where i’m like.. did that even happen? even during it i felt like that😆

Pretty much the title. Completely my type, loving, caring, beautiful, cute, amazing sex, cares about my interests, got into mma bc of me bc i do it, likes to talk, is a good companion. Except for the fact that she really has not been blessed with intelligence. When watching a movie she will literally ask me things that are being openly shown. The other day while watching batman, she asked when the time bombs are exploding. The time bombs were exploding on screen while she was asking. She is rhetorically basically illiterate and needs extra explaining for basically every word that contains more than 2 syllables or stems from from greek or latin, such as "fictional", "dominant" or "indecisive" it feels like she has not been part of the same world that i have been until now, and it's a bit shocking. I am generally very patient and kind in all of my explainings about basic stuff since i really like her and i like seeing her learn but sometimes this all is just really frustrating, since i am someone that likes to go on analytical breakdown rants about pretty much everything i'm interested in She's really gotten to my heart as apart from that she is a really good companion... BOTTOM LINE (READ BEFORE COMMENTING) Dont really need advice, just wanted to talk to someone about it

A few days ago, our maid had a day off because it was the weekend. It was just me, my sister, and our dad at home. My mom was out running errands at the time. I went downstairs to get something when I caught them kissing on the lips. It wasn’t an innocent peck. They were kissing intimately, and I froze when I saw them. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. Later, I told my mom about it, hoping she’d take me seriously. But she just said I was probably seeing things and had misunderstood what I saw. I tried explaining, but she brushed me off and changed the subject. Now I’m questioning everything. I don’t understand why my mom would rather dismiss me than even investigate. I feel sick keeping this to myself, but I’m scared nobody else will believe me either.

Back when I was sixteen, I made it my personal mission to get Mr. Davis fired. I was loud, miserable, and taking out every single problem from a broken home on the one person who actually tried to keep me awake in class. I used to flip my desk, roll my eyes until they strained, and once dumped a 32-ounce fountain drink right into his recycling bin while staring him dead in the eye. He never yelled once. He just sighed, grabbed a roll of paper towels, and told me to take a walk. Ten years later, I'm sitting in a boring mid-level corporate job that I actually care about, living in a clean apartment, and out of nowhere, his face popped into my head while I was washing dishes. It felt like a physical weight hitting my chest. I spent three hours tracking him down on LinkedIn and through the district directory. He's still at the same high school, just a few years away from retirement. I sent him a message that was probably way too long and entirely too dramatic, expecting to get left on read or told to go away. Instead, he replied the next afternoon. We ended up meeting for twenty minutes at a coffee shop three blocks from the campus. He looks smaller now, hair totally white, wearing a faded corduroy jacket that smelled like old paper. When I stammered out an apology and told him he was the reason I finished college because of a random book he forced me to read, he just smiled, stirred his black coffee, and said, 'Kid, I had thirty kids like you every year. You weren't even in the top five worst.' It wasn't some magical movie moment with swelling music, but walking out of that cafe into the grey afternoon drizzle felt like taking a massive breath after holding it underwater for a decade.

For obvious reasons I will not be sharing it before anyone asks. I'm not looking for understanding. I'm absolutely disgusted by what I did. I'm well aware it was gross and creepy and I'm utterly ashamed of myself. I'm a married, middle aged man. I've known my friend for decades. Her daughter is 19 and, as such, known her for her whole life and had never looked at or thought about her in a sexual way even once before. Without going into all the details I found out about the account through disapproving gossip. I got curious, made a deliberate decision to seek it out and found it, with an excuse to myself I was just curious. But if I'm completely honest with myself, I wanted to see it. I made an effort to find it. I made an account and subscribed to it. Obviously I knew what kind of content is posted on that site but it still took me by surprise seeing explicit content of her. I knew I shouldn't be looking at it but I did anyone. I won't even try to sugarcoat the situation. I masturbated over her. It felt wrong but I couldn't resist. Pretty much as soon as I'd finished I was hit with shame. I felt like a disgusting pervert and closed it immediately. The next day I did again, felt even worse after and haven't touched it since. I'm certain my wife would leave me if she ever found out. I feel like I'll never be able to look at the young woman in question in the same way again. My friend would most probably never speak to me again. And I would fully understand why. I'm a disgusting, creepy old man. If there's any silver lining to all this, it has completely changed how I view pornography. I'll be completely honest and say I never viewed the women in porn as anything other than sex objects. The last time I looked at any, my view changed completely. I saw a young woman who'd grown up with hopes and dreams of a successful life. A woman who had been a bubbly girl who loved animals and dreamt of being a vet one day. A girl who never would've imagined she'd wind up doing sexual things in front of a camera for dirty old men like me to pleasure ourselves to. It felt gross. I couldn't get an erection and haven't looked at porn since. Anyway, that's my confession. I know it's vile but I had to get it out. As I said, I'm not looking for justification or understanding. In fact, if you also find it disgusting and gross or think I should rightfully be ashamed of myself then I fully invite you to tell me so. My final thoughts, to any young women here who might be considering it, just remember you have no idea who may view it.

I have two kids and last year I was a gestational carrier for my best friend and her spouse when my best friend was unable to carry a baby herself. I volunteered because I love my best friend and I never had any trouble with my pregnancies and I knew she would be an amazing mom. When I was pregnant with my best friend's baby my sister told our family that she had been diagnosed with infertility that made it impossible for her to have biological children. Her attention and the attention of several other family members turned to me since I was already a surrogate. But I have never had a good relationship with my sister and I didn't want that nightmare of navigating the process with her, so I lied and pretended the pregnancy was rough for me. And I have continued to act like I was done after that because of the issues I ran into (there were none really). My best friend doesn't want more than one child so it should never be an issue. But my family have no idea that I could do it for my sister too but I just don't want to.

I need to get this off my chest because I genuinely cannot stop thinking about it and I’m so embarrased I sign up for 5Ks a few times a year. I’m a 30-year-old mom who loves running. This past week, I broke my own record while I was doing a regular run, and I got so hyped up that I signed up for a 5K just three days before the race. It’s been a rough couple of months, and every time I do a 5K, I get so excited to have something to look forward to and another accomplishment to work toward. I even ordered a cute little race outfit. Unfortunately, it got delayed, so I ran to the store last night to find a backup outfit at the last minute. I ended up buying these flowy, crisscross shorts with built-in shorts underneath. I tried on a size small in the fitting room, and they fit great. Nothing felt tight or uncomfortable, so I figured I was good to go. What I failed to do was actually test them by running. For context, I’m pretty lean and small around my waist, but I have wider hips and thick thighs. Apparently, the built-in shorts were not designed for my proportions. They fit perfectly around my waist but not my butt. The race starts, I begin running, and within the first few seconds, I realize something is VERY wrong. Every time I take a stride, the flowy outer layer moves, and the built-in shorts ride up enough that my actual butt cheeks are hanging out. I’m talking about being genuinely exposed from behind while running in a public race. And there are people running behind me. I literally heard a guy say, “Daaaaang.” I wanted to bury myself alive. I spent the first five minutes in a complete mental battle. I could feel how much was exposed, and I became painfully aware that the people behind me could see everything. I kept trying to pull my shorts down, but as soon as I started running again, the same thing happened. It was a trail race, too, so the steep hills and elevation changes were NOT helping the situation. I seriously considered walking the entire race just to minimize the exposure, but I kept running while fighting the urge to crawl into a hole. I eventually finished fourth in my category, which is something I should be proud of. And I am, to an extent. But I cannot get past the fact that people may have spent the race watching me unknowingly—or, eventually, very knowingly—run with a significant portion of my butt exposed. I’m trying to make peace with the possibility that hundreds of people saw me like that. I know people are probably focused on their own races, and maybe nobody cares as much as I think they do. But the thought of someone recognizing me or remembering me as the woman whose butt was hanging out during the race makes me want to evaporate.

As the title says, my husband created me in a video game. It's Red Dead Redemption. I took him up some tea, he's been struggling with congestion and I knew he'd been playing a lot and generally having a blast playing with his grown son. It had grown late in the evening and wanted to be sure he got something to help with his cough. When I delivered the tea, I had no idea what he'd been up to. It was me Even down to the color and curve of my hair. I was styled in leather and a duster with bad ass weapons I couldn't begin to describe. He described this with a pride I never knew he had. Like he waxed poetic. He was so happy and proud to have created a mini me. It was the best moment ever next to marrying him. This is my confession. I'm beyond blessed and no, you can't have him!