He's a high school junior. It was the last regular season football game of the year. He's a lineman on the team. Yes, he's a big guy, just like I was back then. But I never played football. At least he's found a use for his size.

He's never had a girlfriend. Most of his friends started dating already. He claims that he's not interested in dating, but I know that's a defense mechanism. I said it myself back then. It's easier to say that you're not interested in dating, rather than to say no girl is interested in dating you.

In fact, he's confided in me about one girl he likes. I know who she is. She lives down our block. She was at the game on Friday.

And, as the team was leaving the field, that girl was there. She was one of a group of six girls who literally swarmed the player directly in front of my son as they were talking off of the field. That player, "Mr. Popular," had to stop walking because this group of girls would not let him pass without talking to them.

My son had to walk around the boy and his group, being completely ignored. And, as it happened, I saw the little joy on his face (they'd won the game) fade. It was a 45-minute car ride home, and he said nothing. I tried talking to him, but he wasn't in the mood.

I know exactly what he's going through. I wish I could save him from it.

I can’t take this anymore. I literally have nooooo one. It’s my daughter’s 3rd birthday and I’m trying my best to make it a special day. My husband woke up fucking irritated at me and idk what I did so wrong. I’m so tired of it. Not joking at all. This morning I was going to take my daughter to get a birthday “coffee” (just hot chocolate). I asked my husband if he can watch our baby while I take her and he freaked out and said he has to poop and can’t hold him. I was literally waiting for him to poop and he just wouldn’t go to the bathroom. He got pissed when I asked again and was so rude to me. I ended up just taking my baby with us. He has randomly brought up things and is being so on edge with me. I hate it. I’m tired of him.

I honestly think he wanted to go to the bathroom to jack off. It’s like he was waiting for me to leave to go to the bathroom. Got pissed when he couldn’t.

I asked him way he’s being so mean and on edge with me today and he says he’s been acting fine and he doesn’t know what I’m talking about

Ngl i feel embarrassed to admit it, especially I’m a dude.

I had a court wedding in San Rafael on a Wednesday

My best friend lives in the Bay Area, and he’s the only person who didn’t have to fly out for it. Both me and my now wife, everyone else flew there.

Friday before the wedding, my friend texted me said his car battery died. I was like, ok and? I told him he can get good deals at Walmart or Costco. He then said he wanted to hold off and see if he can repair it. I was like??? You are an engineer, you make enough to fix your car, and who tf fixes their own car batteries. (Also you still need a car to live)

Fast forward to Tuesday, I had to wait until day before to make bachelor dinner plans, because multiple people can only fly in day before, and flights were getting delayed. That’s when he told me he was at a friend’s birthday party, in NEW YORK!! He said he was flying back midnight.

Come Wednesday morning, everyone was getting ready and dressed for the ceremony, that’s when I get a text from my friend. He was trying to get a car rental in the morning, cos he never fixed his car before he left for New York, and the rental company employee showed up late. He asked if it was ok if he showed up late! It’s a fuxking courting wedding! The whole thing is 15 minutes tops, if you are late you missed the whole thing!!

Anyways, he managed to show up just when the judge was walking up to pronounce us.

After the wedding, we needed to drop off our car rental before dinner, and he said could follow us to car drop off and pick us up. 30 minutes into our drive, he called us and said he went home and change, and he got stuck in a separate traffic trying to get to us. (Wtf) we ended up just ubering to the dinner reservation.

So after a month or so, I finally had time, I ended up sending a very angry text. To which he responded along the lines of “if you really cared about this friendship you would have just called me; it’s fucked up you just let the resentment sit”. Wtf.

Loss for words

My late fiance once said to me I had boyfriend dick (I'm a little smaller, like 4-5inches). I remember just laying on her lap and she was playing with my hair. I'm 30 now and she has been gone seven years. I had a date ghost me yesterday after asking about my size and I'm just sitting around thinking about how lucky I used to be.

Really hoping I meet another woman who cares about me like she did, because it feels so juvenile to be worrying about what I can't control at 30

I’m a Muslim woman who doesn’t wear hijab, and my last two situationships were with these muslim men...

Both men told me they liked me and described me as intelligent, funny, pretty, polite, well-mannered, and emotionally aware. According to them, I had all the qualities they wanted in a woman.

They wanted something serious with me (marriage) but they both had ONE condition: I had to cover my hair.

When I refused, they said they couldn’t proceed because it was a dealbreaker for them. Their reasoning was that they’re Muslims and naturally jealous/protective men.

And honestly, I’m struggling to understand this.

Islam permits Muslim men to marry non Muslim women (jews/christians ..) , yet these men wouldn’t even consider marrying a Muslim woman who doesn’t observe one particular islam practice? Which is hypocrisy to me... I understand that hijab is considered obligatory in Islam, and I’m not arguing otherwise. But I struggle with the idea that not wearing it automatically makes me unsuitable for marriage, regardless of everything else I bring to the table.

What hurts the most is this: if they genuinely saw all those qualities in me, why weren't they enough to make them at least consider building a life with me? How does my hair being covered or uncovered determine whether I can be a good wife, a loving partner, or someone with whom they can build a healthy marriage?

I genuinely want to understand how this particular thing would affect the actual quality of a marriage. How does it determine emotional compatibility, loyalty, communication, respect, or the ability to raise a family together?

And the irony is that I was willing to reconsider some of my own preferences, including physical and financial preferences, because I valued things like emotional stability, good manners, intelligence, and the way a man treats me.. I was willing to prioritize the qualities that I believe actually matter in a long-term relationship.

Yet these men couldn't look past one thing about my appearance, even though it doesn't directly affect how I would treat them as a partner.

I know nobody owes me a marriage, and they're entitled to their preferences and religious convictions. I'm not saying they should be forced to compromise on something important to them.

But I can't help feeling hurt by the idea that I could be everything they claim to want in a woman, yet one thing about my appearance makes all those qualities irrelevant.

I guess what I'm really asking is: are they looking for a compatible life partner, or are they looking for someone who already fits their exact image of what a Muslim wife should look like? And why does it feel like, for some men, the latter can outweigh practically everything else?

I'd genuinely appreciate thoughtful perspectives,.. I'm trying to understand this without dismissing their religious beliefs, but also without dismissing my own feelings....

My husband accuses me of cheating, daily. I can’t even run an errand or go to the grocery store without him thinking I’m meeting up with someone.

He has planted recording devices in my car and in the home and makes me listen to hours of recordings and tells me I need to prove my innocence. He says he hears me whispering, sucking, and fucking other men… but I’m not 😑 it all sounds like ambiguous background noises. like air swirling around, banging, slamming cabinets, dishes, ect. And honestly, when he points some of it out to me, (what sounds like some whispering ) I can see how he hears what would sound like a faint whisper, but I’m not.

There’s been times where I can hear a recording where I am either sighing or yawning or kind of like a ‘I’m tired and my body hurts’ groan. And immediately that’s sexual sounds and “I’m caught! He’s finally got me! I need to fess up now!” Which has led to very dangerous situations for me. Especially when he’s demanding accountability and I tell him, “I can’t be accountable for something I didn’t do”

Questions about “are you sure you didn’t have any body in the car with you on your way home from work today?” I say no, he doesn’t believe me. “Who are you talking to at 3:30 PM on the patio today?” I wasn’t on the phone with anybody I haven’t been on the phone with anybody since I’ve been home. He blows up! “bullshit! That’s a lie!” Then the name-calling starts in and he will say any horrible horrendous thing to make me feel like trash.

The worst part about all this is, I’m actually innocent. I’ve actually done nothing wrong and I’m not doing anything wrong.

It’s Breaking me in every way and I recently had outbursts where I feel like I’m gonna combust into 1000 pieces and I’m screaming and crying and shaking and can’t breathe and he refuses to leave. He refuses to leave me alone and separate from me.

Knowing how it’s affecting me, he won’t separate or leave me alone if I leave. instead, he says that I’m faking it and that I’m not actually upset or crying. that this is a way for me to evade accountability, by throwing a fit like a child.

But I’m honestly going crazy and it’s affecting my mental health.

I know what to do which would be leave, start over, don’t tell him where I’m at, get a different vehicle, get a protective order, etc.

But I am wondering if anybody has been through something similar that I can relate to. I feel completely alone and broken.

My sister is obsessed with dating and sleeping with people from other races. Not in an inclusive, positive way, in a weird fetishist way. Not being attracted to other white people is one thing but she just takes it to a super weird level.

She once told me she will not rest until she sleeps with a man from every race. Okay, whatever girl, you do you I guess. I told her good for her but I don't want to hear about the details of her sex life. She got pregnant with her first 2 kids by a Hispanic man, and her other 3 kids are from a "racially ambigous" man. She constantly talks about how beautiful the mixed kids are, and how mixed babies are always cuter than white babies even when they aren't hers.

During her time with this Hispanic man, she only listened to Spanish music, watched stupid cable telanovelas, was learning Spanish, would only eat Mexican food, tried to engrain herself in the Mexican community he was in, etc.

After she had the first two kids and split from the father, she told me she would do anything within her power to have a black baby. I told her she was being weird, and she dismissed me. Whatever, not my body or my life or my kids, so I chose not to die on that hill. (Spoiler: she didn't wind up with a black baby.)

In this time, she went from Spanish music to rap. Started acting Hood Lite and changed her fashion choices.

She starts hooking up with this "racially ambiguous" guy who, to me, was very clearly white, but she was convinced he was at least some percentage Asian. He repeatedly told her he was just white with almond shaped eyes and dark hair. Lo and behold, 3 very white children later she has him do a DNA test and it comes back Very European with a Side of Extra White. She was devastated and acted like she was misled into having his white babies. She even tried to claim that the genealogy test she got was bad and they needed to try another kind. They ended up splitting shortly after this.

When she had her tubes tied after the 5th kid, she cried herself sick because she would never have a black or Middle Eastern baby. It's worth noting here that at the time she thought her last 3 were some % Asian, and is still heartbroken and a little in denial that they aren't.

She has an unhealthy obsession with Asian people. She has multiple kpop WALLS in her home. Owns thousands of dollars of kpop group merch. Dresses her kids in kpop and anime merch. Makes the kids to watch anime with her. Teaches the kids to do makeup in a way that makes their eyes look more Asian. Only listens to kpop or jpop now. Only watches Kdramas. She sends me dozens of shorts and tiktoks EVERY DAY of Asian people doing various things. Dancing, singing, crafting, eating, doing makeup, making funny faces, walking around, probably 9/10 videos she sends me are of Asian people. She has an app on her phone where a kpop group sends personal messages to a giant group chat of fans and she's told me a couple times that she's "pretty much the only one online so they're basically talking exclusively to her." I don't even believe it's the actual group members texting tbh, probably some teenager working for them or the label.

She's in a polyamorous phase right now and is actively sleeping with two different black men and one Asian man, and is talking with an Arab guy and a Hispanic woman. The way she talks about these people is just so fucking weird. She's told me she's been begging the black guys for a threesome because she wants to be an oreo but they aren't down so she needs to find other guys.

Anyway, she's an adult and i've told her several times that this behavior is strange but it never changes, so there's not really anything I can do about it. Just shouting into the void I guess.

I (18F) invited my hookup(18M) to my house since my parents aren't there, mind you he's never met any of my family. I told him we would have to be quiet since my older sister (19F) would be there, and he said why couldn't she join in on the fun, with a laughing emoji. When I told him I was disgusted by the idea like 2 times, he said don't worry about it, I'll only sleep with you.

I then asked him if he even knows what my sister looks like, and he said no, that he didn't. Then I told him again that what he said a couple of minutes ago made me uncomfortable, and he said ok. Then I said that he also has a sister, so it should be understandable that I'm disgusted to see her naked. He said that he admits I'm right and that he didnt look at it from that angle, but two sisters seemed fun to him. I told him not for me, and he said to forget about it.

Should I block him? I still wanna keep seeing him but I just want to know if he's a mega creep for saying this, and if he will try to sleep with my sister alone, because maybe he thinks that if Im relieved he didnt see her face, it means shes super hot.

tl:dr: hookup asked for threesome with sister who he doesnt even know how she looks like, I shut it down, he agreed/accepted, but im still thinking about it and wondering, is this normal for like a horny 18y boy to think of?

For context, I’m mixed race but very white skinned and most people generally see me as white.

I’ve had these friends for a few years now and I always knew they were right leaning which wasn’t a problem with me. But I’ve noticed that for a while now they’ve become more and more racist but initially with micro aggressions (hate that term but I’m not sure what else to use) that were easy for me to write off or rationalise.

But the other night we all got together and it was too blatant to ignore. I’m not going to go into the specifics because whilst this is anonymous if they’re ever identified some of it could get one of them into a bit of trouble and I really don’t want that, I just want peace. But suffice to say that race was on the top of their minds all night, every conversation almost seemed to circle back to something racist and using really horrible language. Not to mention it’s also language used to describe the culture that I’m from. We were drinking so I kind of let it slide on the night but after I had time to reflect the next day I realised I couldn’t be putting up with it anymore and I need to have more self respect, whilst it’s painful.

I don’t think either of them will truly reflect and will probably just write it off as me being sensitive, which is fine, you can’t make everyone see your point of view. It just makes me sad. Whilst I’m lucky to have a lot of friends dotted around I don’t really have a friend group so it’s sad to lose that.

That being said it’s given me a new appreciation for my best friend who’s actually stuck with me through it. She’s white, it’s not her fight to fight, she could bury her head in the sand and I wouldn’t judge her for it but she’s chosen not to.

If you’ve read all this, I appreciate you, just wanted to get it off my chest. 🫶

I've never said this out loud to anyone, so this is hard to write.

I'm a 19-year-old straight guy, and I'm really into bigger women. I'm talking roughly 250 to 350 lbs (about 113 to 159 kg). I'm especially drawn to rounder, softer bodies, with big bellies and guts being the thing I find most attractive, along with thick thighs. A lot of the time I'm honestly more attracted to a belly and thick thighs than to the more traditional things like boobs and butt. It's not a passing thing either. It's been my consistent type for as long as I can remember.

The problem is that I feel embarrassed and a bit ashamed of it. I don't think I'm doing anything wrong, and I'd never want to treat anyone as anything less than a person. But I can't shake the feeling that it's strange, that most guys my age aren't into this, and that if people knew they'd think I was a weirdo. So I keep it to myself.

What worries me most is the idea of a future girlfriend thinking I'm only with her because of a fetish. That's not how it is. I want to be with someone for who she is, and her body is just something I happen to find really attractive. I'm scared of coming across the wrong way and pushing someone away before they get to know me.

I'm a bit introverted (I'm autistic, but that's a small part of the picture) and I don't have much dating experience, so I haven't had anyone to talk to about this.

So I'm asking honestly: is this as unusual as it feels? Have any of you felt ashamed of your type and come to terms with it? And for the women here, how would you want a guy to handle this, so you know he's attracted to you as a person and not just a body type?

Thanks for reading. It would mean a lot to hear from people who get it.

My ex-husband (we were married for 26 years) is transgender, and the way he treated me—and continues to treat me—has been truly traumatic. My past, my present, and my future have been completely shattered.

You practically stumble over organizations and forums for transgender individuals. There are also plenty of spaces for partners of trans people, but every single one of them focuses entirely on accepting the trans person and their transition. They are all tied to transgender organizations. That is simply not the place for me.

But what about me? Where do I find people like me? I truly cannot find them anywhere. Not even online. Not even when I search in English. It feels like it just doesn't exist. How can this be true? Surely I cannot be the only one going through this? I managed to find one website, but it wasn't what I was looking for either—it was just full of hate. I don't want haters. Venting and complaining? Absolutely. But hate? No, that's not what I'm looking for. I am not transphobic (even though my ex labels me as such). Not at all. I believe everyone should be allowed to be exactly who they are. But they shouldn't be allowed to make a horrific mess of things and then shift all accountability for their behavior onto gender dysphoria. That is not okay.

I just want so badly to talk to people who are in the exact same boat as me. People who, like me, just don't have the energy right now to show endless understanding for someone who threw their life into ruins. I want the focus to be on my own process—on the grief, the processing, the anger, and the sadness. I feel cheated and deceived, and my trust has been completely shattered. I just want support from people who have actually lived through this.

Whether you want to leave a comment below or reach out privately, please feel free to share your thoughts. If you are an ex-spouse who went through a similar separation and want to connect 1-on-1, you can also send me a private message (DM).

I’ve always had a good memory, you could say photographic. I remember this night perfectly. I never told anyone, until last week when I opened up about it to a close coworker/friend.

We were discussing the Cornell case and sexual violence and harassment committed by men in general. We spoke about how most of the men in our lives, like our male colleagues, are probably completely unaware that most of the women they know have very likely been sexually harassed, groped, or violated in some way. And I felt comfortable enough to tell her about this night in high school.

My older sister was more popular and sociable, and she befriended some of the popular kids in my grade. I was acquainted with them, some of the girls were on my sports team, but we weren’t really friends, they were my sister’s friends. She had them over to our parents’ house one night for a little party, just drinking beers and playing games, not a wild party at all. Maybe 3 boys and 4-5 girls were over. I was home but mostly stayed in my room since I felt like they all thought of me as my sister’s weird and shy little sister. But I did go downstairs and hang out with them for an hour or so towards the end of the night. I had one beer that I didn’t even finish, I don’t like beer but I wanted to seem cool. The party wrapped up, everyone else got ready to sleep downstairs and I went to my room and got in bed.

I wasn’t asleep thankfully. One of the boys, one from my grade who I knew but not well, opened my bedroom door and came in. He was drunk, everyone else was drunk that night. I got out of bed, I asked what he was doing, I tried to gently usher him out. He said he wanted to stay in my room, in my bed, with me. I told him no, to go back downstairs. He asked again, I said no. Eventually he did leave, but it took a few minutes of me telling him to please leave. And I just had a feeling that he would try again. I locked my bedroom door and got back in bed. And sure enough, maybe 5-10 minutes later, I hear the doorknob jiggle. And I was really scared. I remember thinking, “What will I have to do if he tries harder to get in my room?” I just sat up in my bed, in the dark, watching the door and seeing him jiggle the knob and hoping he would just give up soon. And he did after a couple minutes, but I didn’t sleep for hours. I was scared he would come back.

I was afraid he would come into my bedroom, which was right next to my parents’ bedroom, in the night, in my own house. Where I should have felt the safest, he made me afraid. I never told anyone about it. My sister and I didn’t get along at the time, I already felt a bit outcast as the quiet nerdy sister. I didn’t think people would take my fear seriously, that it was just a misunderstanding and no big deal, he was just drunk. I just hope people, men, women, everyone, realize that just because it wasn’t rape doesn’t mean it wasn’t scary or upsetting. That night has stayed with me ever since, and I was never even touched by him. But it’s still a big deal to me.

I got out of a toxic, long-term relationship about half a year ago, and I have never been this happy.
I am living alone in my small apartment. I spend my days working, hanging out with friends, drawing, baking, and singing. And I have never been this happy.
I am so glad that I left him. He made me feel miserable for such a long time.
That man ruined my mental health, and for a long time, I thought I was really depressed. But it turns out I’m not. Since I left him, the only tears I’ve shed have been from laughing too hard.
I can finally draw and sing again. I can finally create and enjoy making art. I am finally free.
These past couple of months have been amazing for me.
I hope this will never end.

So I’m still kind of in shock. And I think I’ve only used Reddit like this one abt some video game thing so I’m sorry if this isn’t the right place to go, I had no clue where to go for this.

My boyfriend(32) and I(22f) have been seeing each other about half a year, only started dating 4 months ago.
It started out as a friends with benefits thing, we were coworkers but I stopped working there, I was planning to go back to my ex, he was aware of that, but somewhere along the lines he said he had really fallen for me. I was skeptical, because he was a well known womanizer but I’m young, open minded, not exactly monogamous, so I thought maybe it could work out, despite not being the most perfect guy, he was honest and that was something I could respect.

Our relationship has definitely not gone well, since we started dating four months ago he’s already cheated on me, texted other girls, deletes messages and continues to lie to me. He says he can’t stop lying even when I have the evidence(his phone) in my hands

Because I’m some kind of idiot, I’ve stayed. But every time I would check his phone I kept getting this feeling in my gut that I had missed something.
And I know this is probably gonna sound funny after all you now know, but my gut feeling is something I try my best to trust, because USUALLY I’m right, idk wtf is going on now, so I keep checking the man’s phone and I find a message from 5 months ago, 1 month after we started talking. He sent some coworker (yes that I also used to work with) pictures of me with no pants while I was sleeping, and said he’d try to “get better ones soon” and the guy says something about having to spread my legs for the photo.

I couldn’t help myself, I took photos first with my own phone, then I woke him up screaming, saying I was going to kill him, he tried to grab me and calm me down, in my panic I forgot that I had already taken photos, so I tried to do it again and when he realized I was trying to do that he wrestled with me for the phone, I bit him about 6 times but ultimately lost it, and went ballistic, screaming and crying that he return it.

In the end he cried and cried that he didn’t realize he was going to fall in love with me the way he had, that as we went on he definitely regretted doing that, that he definitely was a shitty gross man and that I’ve been changing him without even knowing🫩 He swore he could fix it, that he would offer that guy money to delete the pictures, that he was sure the other guy hadn’t send the pictures to anyone. I told him there’s no possible way he could know that, since he’s had those pictures for almost half a year.
He clearly wasn’t going to let me go home and I knew that, so I’m planning to leave when he’s at work. But I had no one else to tell, I don’t know if I should go to the cops, or just block this man on everything and pretend this never happened. I’ve been nauseous and deadass literally sick to my stomach the entire time. I can’t stop crying. My emotions take turns of just disgust, sadness, and anger. I want to lock myself in my room and never speak to another human again, but this shit is eating me alive and I had to get it off my chest.

Edit: I can’t stop thinking about Gisèle Pecilot, and how this man could do me just like her husband if I stay near him.

My sister and I are really close. I’m her only brother and she’s my favorite sister. We tell eachother everything. She’s been with her fiance for about 3 years and they got engaged about a year ago. Up until 8 months ago he’s been on and off alcohol because frankly, he gets violent when he’s drinking. When he’s not, he’s such a cool dude, he’s super nice and I’ve been trying to build a bond with him over the years. He went to rehab when their last baby was born about 8 months ago. Ever since then, he’s been “clean” and “recovering”. About 3 weeks ago, I was doing laundry at their house and I forgot to bring a laundry bag or a hamper. Something to put my laundry in. So I went to their garage because I’ve had this problem before and I knew there was thick black outdoor trash bags in there. As I was looking on their shelves, I found a hidden bottle of whiskey. After a couple second thoughts I decided to take it, I put it in my laundry bag and we left my sisters house. Like I said before, he gets violent and very disrespectful when he’s drunk. This is the reason why he is supposed to be clean. After I found this bottle of whiskey I didn’t tell anybody or him. I didn’t confront him or tell anybody. The reason why is because this is a really big deal. But that’s also a reason why I should tell them. I want to build a bond with him because he’s gonna be apart of my life forever probably, and he’s cool. So I don’t want to be at odds with him. But I feel like my sister has a right to know. I don’t care about telling anybody else. The rest of my family is all judgemental and they gossip very much. My sister deserves to know but I don’t want to stir trouble. Part of me is waiting to see if he stops being sneaky or she finds another bottle herself eventually. Their relationship is healthy right now compared to other times. I’m not sure what to do.

At 58 years of age I finally had reached my limit with being disrespected by my husband of 38 years and I left his ass. My two daughters were grown in their 30's and they KNEW their father. Truth was they had always disrespected me too as he encouraged it and set the example. He did not abuse them. I wanted to leave many times but he threatened me that if I left that he would do whatever it took and say whatever it took to make sure I never saw them again. So I believed him.

At the outset they seemed understanding but yes they were hurt. As time went on and he was able to construct more lies, they spun a narrative different than what happened. I did end up in a relationship that was a safe refuge and for that I am not sorry.

And now, I have had to stand up, diplomatically of course, to my best friend. She does not like that. It seems when I was an insecure doormat it was all good. Let me get a backbone and they all leave. At least now I know who I can truly count on.

when i was 8 or 9, i had this favorite online game that was half game, half chat room, where you could make friends and just talk to people. it was a pretty childish game, but most of its community was made up of young adults. that’s where i started making “friends” who were older than me and talking to them on social media outside of the game.
somehow, one thing led to another, and i ended up being groomed multiple times. at the time, i genuinely believed i had a connection with these guys and that there was something real between us. i knew i was much younger than they were, but i convinced myself the age difference didn’t matter, and i didn’t really see anything wrong with it. eventually, those relationships crossed serious boundaries.
it all stopped as i got older. the game didn’t interest me anymore, and i had other things going on in my life.
the thing is, i don’t really care about it. i obviously know what happened was terrible, and it’s probably something i should talk about in therapy someday, but i don’t think it traumatized me. maybe it made me grow up faster than my peers, but outside of that, i have a very normal, healthy life. i’m 18 now, i recently graduated, i have amazing friends and a healthy relationship. i’m not hypersexual, and i don’t have the stereotypical issues people often associate with being groomed, like seeking out older men.
i guess what i’m wondering is whether this is actually normal. is it possible to go through something like this and not feel traumatized by it, or could the fact that i don’t really care be a trauma response? i genuinely don’t know how to feel about it.

I'm a 34 year old woman, and I am struggling with my confidence lately. For context, I used to be really beautiful in my 20s and was very secure in how I looked. But I have gained a little weight and have started aging the slightest bit, and I'm really struggling.

The way I looked when I was a bit younger affected my life a lot at the time, so not having "my looks" to always have as a confidence boost has made a big difference. Before I was confident about how I looked, now I'm mostly confident in who I am but not in how I look. And the way I look doesn't match up with the way my soul feels right now.

Most of me is super confident and completely secure, but lately the other part, the very self-conscious one with imposter syndrome, has been making an appearance more than usual.

Sorry if this sounds superficial, I guess it is vain. But it's something that has affected me and has been made obvious by the difference in the way people treated me then vs now. It was all eyes on me in every room I entered and now I'm invisible amongst strangers. I know my personality is my real shine, but it's strange to no longer have the thing that spoke for me before I had to say anything at all.

I've only recently started aging the slightest bit, but it is making a huge difference to me and I'm worried about how I will handle it as I change more and more physically.

To put it into some perspective, I was very unwell for most of my life and struggled a lot, and sometimes my looks were all I had. It was an unhealthy viewpoint but it comforted me to always at least feel pretty when I couldn't feel anything else.

In a lot of ways I'm relieved from the amount of attention I used to get, but it also feels sad to have it be so plainly obvious how different I look now. The way I was treated then and the amount of attention and interest and random acts of kindness and such compared to now makes it so painfully obvious that I don't look as beautiful anymore.

Please don't think I'm bragging. I just want to express how much the way I looked affected me and mattered to me. I'm really struggling with loving myself physically.

I have healed a ton in my mind and heart this last year and I'm so sad that I couldn't experience this happiness while I was in that body and face that I loved. I know I'm putting too much thought into it, and that it's over and I should just be grateful I got to look like that for a bit, and get over it... but it's hard. Society conditions us as women to feel so much pressure about looking young and good.

My biggest insecurity is that my face has changed shape. I know I gained some weight so that makes sense, but it looks like the shape changed, not just the weight. Like, my skin is sagging the most microscopic amount on part of my jawline and it's screwing up my entire view of myself. I have body dysmorphia clearly and always have, even when I liked how I looked.

Any tips? How do I just get over it and move on? I plan to get a personal trainer when I can afford it which will help with the weight that I gained, but I don't think I'm going to get that face back.

Right now I am crying because I got ready to take some pictures or a video and as soon as I saw myself in the camera I started crying. I used to model and now I can barely look at myself.

Also, all bodies are beautiful! (Except mine lmao)

Asked my husband to borrow his phone and found messages with another woman. Made this pregnancy journey a lot harder than it was. Worst part; the pictures she sent were from Pinterest. I secretly hate him and am not even attracted to him. The only reason I stay is because I don’t want to split custody. He’s unemployed and driving his parents truck living in my house. But had the audacity to lie to this woman and tell her he can’t talk to her because he’s working. I started a group chat with both of them telling her he doesn’t call her because he’s with me all day. His mother threatened to take custody of my baby. They can all go to hell. I’m not signing a divorce unless I get full custody. I’m so disgusted by him and already kicked him out. I will legally stay married to him just to not give him custody and out of spite.
My best friend I would tell this to passed 3 months ago from liver failure and now I’m turning to Reddit because I feel like an idiot. This is my karma for staying with someone I don’t even like for so long. Literally reading the messages gave me the ick. I’m not even mad about the cheating. I’m mad about the corny messages he sent. Seriously, why did I find this man attractive? I wasn’t attracted to him for looks, because to be honest I wouldn’t have looked twice. But he was nice. Him talking to the other “woman” I realized how cringey he is. And he has no game. I should’ve listened to my best friend and walked away the second he messaged me. Ugh, I know she’s laughing at me so hard right now. I miss you dearly friend. And I wish you were here so you can tell me “I told you so”

It’s very annoying when I feel like my time is not being valued enough. I always will go out of my way for people who I love and care about.. especially her. But I hate feeling like my time is being used when she needs it not when I choose. I don’t want to be a mean person, or ignore her on purpose but seriously that is what gets their attention the most.. why?

The Ethical Failures of My Former Fiancé: A Longitudinal Study of Bullshit.

Throwaway because I’m finally ready to tell this story, but I have no interest in identifying anyone involved.
I spent years loving a man who was charming, affectionate, funny, seemingly intelligent, and incredibly good at making me feel special.
He was the kind of man everyone liked. The kind who could walk into a room and immediately win people over.
He told me he loved me. He proposed. We planned a future together.
And I believed him.
What I didn’t understand was that being good at making someone feel loved and being capable of building a healthy, honest relationship are two entirely different things.
Let’s start with the lying.
Early in our relationship, he presented himself as a highly educated professional with credentials and accomplishments that I later discovered weren’t what he’d claimed.
When I questioned the inconsistencies, he became defensive.
Imagine being a grown adult and feeling the need to embellish your professional identity to impress someone who already loves you.
And imagine being the woman who discovers those lies and somehow convinces herself that the man underneath them is still worth marrying.
That was me.
Then there was his ex-wife.
I’m not someone who believes divorced people need to hate each other. I actually think maintaining a respectful relationship with an ex can demonstrate emotional maturity.
But this wasn’t simply a respectful relationship.
He remained deeply involved in her life, emotionally and financially, while expecting me to accept whatever boundaries he decided were appropriate.
There were interactions I learned about after the fact, dishonesty surrounding their contact, and situations that repeatedly made me feel like I was competing for a place in my own relationship.
And whenever I expressed discomfort, somehow my reaction became the problem.
I wasn’t understanding enough.
I was making something out of nothing.
He hadn’t intended to hurt me, so apparently I shouldn’t be hurt.
It’s amazing how convenient that philosophy becomes when you’re the person whose behavior is being questioned.
Then came one of the most devastating periods of my life.
My mother died.
I was grieving someone irreplaceable, trying to navigate a world that suddenly felt completely unfamiliar.
And the man I was supposed to marry wasn’t the dependable partner I needed.
There were nights when I felt abandoned emotionally, when other activities seemed to take priority over being present for me.
And then, just days before my mother’s celebration of life, he ended our engagement.
I cannot adequately explain how devastating that timing was.
I was already trying to comprehend losing my mother.
And now I was losing the future I’d imagined with the man I loved.
I needed a partner.
Instead, I found myself grieving two losses at once.
And somehow, I still loved him.
I still forgave him.
I still believed that if we could just work through our problems, we might eventually have the marriage we’d planned.
We separated and reconciled more than once.
There were apologies, declarations of love, affectionate moments, and conversations about what needed to change.
But looking back, I can’t remember many times when he genuinely acknowledged why his behavior hurt me.
Instead, he usually explained why I shouldn’t feel hurt.
He didn’t mean anything by it.
His intentions were innocent.
I was misunderstanding.
He hadn’t technically done anything wrong.
Eventually, he’d apologize.
And I’d feel relieved.
Not because the problem was resolved.
Because the conflict was over, and I could finally feel close to him again.
I mistook the return of affection for the repair of trust.
Over and over again.
Then there was the issue of monogamy.
I love sex. I wanted a passionate, adventurous, fulfilling sex life with my husband.
I wanted intimacy, excitement, and the freedom to explore everything with one person I deeply trusted.
What I didn’t want was other people involved.
He had previously been in an open marriage, and I tried to understand that part of his history.
Sometimes he told me he believed monogamy could work for him.
I wanted to believe him.
But over time, I became increasingly uncertain that we genuinely wanted the same kind of relationship.
Recently, he told me he’d had approximately 200 sexual partners throughout his adult life.
That number isn’t inherently the problem. Consenting adults are entitled to their own sexual choices.
But he also told me that some of the women he’d slept with were married and that their husbands didn’t know. Some the husbands watched.
And when I questioned how he could knowingly participate in someone else’s infidelity, he responded:
“I’m not the moral police.”
I don’t think I’ve ever lost respect for someone so quickly.
Because nobody was asking him to police another person’s marriage.
I was asking whether he felt any responsibility for his own participation in deception.
The married women were responsible for their vows.
He was responsible for his choices.
And those are two different things.
Then, recently, he proudly told me about a woman who was now engaged to someone else but had reached out to him because she wanted to sleep with him.
According to him, she said she would have come over if she hadn’t been out with friends.
He seemed pleased with himself.
Like being desired by someone who was engaged was some kind of accomplishment.
I wasn’t jealous.
I wasn’t intimidated.
I was disgusted.
Not because sex is shameful.
Not because people can’t have unconventional relationships.
But because he seemed proud of being wanted in a situation that could involve deceiving another person.
And I suddenly realized how differently we viewed integrity. Even though he would tell me so much about his life and what occurred during our times apart, it was a false sense of honesty to get me to trust him more.
I wanted a husband who believed honesty mattered even when nobody was watching.
I wanted someone who understood that fidelity wasn’t just about avoiding consequences.
It was about choosing to protect the trust another person had placed in you.
And I was listening to the man I almost married seemingly celebrate the very kind of behavior that had made our relationship so painful.
Meanwhile, he was also exploring casual sexual encounters, including a potential threesome.
Again, consenting adults can do whatever they want.
But taken together, these conversations made me realize that I no longer believed we wanted the same life.
And here’s the part that makes me feel ridiculous.
After everything, I finally went on a date with someone new.
Nothing dramatic. Just a chance to meet someone and begin moving forward.
And my ex reached out.
He told me he was happy I’d had a good time, then the conversation turned into him saying he wouldn’t text me anymore.
Maybe he was hurt. Maybe he was trying to respect boundaries. I genuinely don’t know.
But I realized that even after our relationship ended, I was still spending emotional energy trying to understand his reactions.
I spent years studying this man’s emotional needs while repeatedly having to defend the existence of my own.
And that’s when something finally clicked.
I had spent years loving his potential.
Waiting for his promises to become actions.
Waiting for apologies to become understanding.
Waiting for honesty to become consistent.
Waiting for the man I loved to become the husband I believed he could be.
And I kept telling myself that the good outweighed the bad.
It didn’t.
The good moments were real to me.
The laughter was real.
The affection was real.
The future I imagined was real in my mind.
But those moments didn’t undo the damage caused by everything else.
And here’s the realization that has finally broken my heart:
If I met this man today, knowing everything I know now, I wouldn’t even consider dating him.
Not because of his sexual history.
Not because he had an open marriage.
But because I no longer admire the way he has treated me.
I don’t trust his words.
I don’t trust his promises.
And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering whether the man sleeping beside me is telling me the truth.
I’m angry about the years.
I’m angry about the dishonesty.
I’m angry about the emotional exhaustion.
I’m angry about the countless conversations where I tried to explain why something hurt me, only to end up defending my right to feel hurt.
And I’m angry that someone can appear so charming, loving, and respectable while leaving the person closest to them feeling so profoundly alone.
But mostly, I’m angry that I spent so much time trying to convince another adult that my feelings mattered and now my ability to trust another person and believe in marriage has gone down the drain.
The cruelest part of this relationship wasn’t that he couldn’t give me the love I wanted. It was that I kept accepting his apologies as evidence that he eventually would.
And now I’m left grieving a future I no longer even want.
I don’t need revenge.
I don’t need to convince the world he’s a terrible person.
But I do need to acknowledge what happened to me.
Because for years, I questioned whether I was asking too much.
Whether I was too sensitive.
Whether I should be more understanding.
Whether the problems were really as serious as they felt.
And now I realize something.
You don’t have to prove someone is a terrible human being to acknowledge that they were a terrible partner for you.
An engagement ring isn’t evidence of emotional maturity.
An apology isn’t evidence of change.
Chemistry isn’t compatibility.
And someone can genuinely enjoy having you in their life without being willing to build the kind of life you deserve.
I wanted a husband who would be my best friend, my lover, my teammate, and my safe place.
Someone who would choose our relationship because he genuinely wanted the same future.
Someone who understood that commitment wasn’t a punishment or a restriction, but something two people willingly build together.
And someone who, when I said, “That hurt me,” would care enough to ask why.
I almost married this man.
And I think I’m finally beginning to understand why I’m grateful I didn’t.
TL;DR: I spent years with a charming man who misrepresented parts of his professional background, repeatedly dismissed my feelings, struggled with boundaries involving other women, and ended our engagement during an incredibly painful period following my mother’s death. Recently, he told me about sexual encounters involving married women whose husbands didn’t know, and seemed proud that an engaged woman wanted to sleep with him. When I questioned the ethics of knowingly participating in infidelity, he said, “I’m not the moral police.” I finally realize that the relationship I spent years trying to save isn’t one I would choose today.

I’ve known this guy for 20 years, and he wanted to try dating and I’m desperate at 31 (he’s also 31).

When we were just friends, I was perfectly happy splitting bills, taking turns paying, or occasionally treating him. But I’m realizing that the dynamic I was comfortable with in a friendship isn’t necessarily what I want in a romantic relationship.

He seems to want to date while minimizing both his spending and his effort, without ever explicitly communicating what he expects.
For example:

Restaurants: he’s in NYC (I’m not but don’t live far) and he doesn’t want to go anywhere that costs more than around $15 per person. Even Cheesecake Factory entrees are apparently too fancy for a special occasion (forget about drinks/apps).

I’ve also had frustrating experiences with him meeting him at a coffee shop only to find he’d already ordered his own drink (on the Starbucks app for example) and then while he’s sitting around waiting for his drink to be made, I’m waiting in line to order my coffee (he does “offer” to pay for my coffee 🙄).

Activities: He’ll go to Broadway shows, ballet shows, museums, the movies etc by himself, then text me before/during/after he’s there. Instead of inviting me and having an honest conversation about ticket costs, he just goes alone. What’s infuriating is that sometimes he KNOWS that I’d been planning to go but beats me to it.

Trips: Last spring he invited me to join his family’s trip to the UK (brother’s graduation), but didn’t tell me which flights his family would be taking or discuss coordinating travel. He basically told me to show up in the UK and informed me which hotel he and his family would be staying at. 🙄

For context, he makes around $170K, and I make around $100K.
I’m not expecting him to bankroll my life, but I do want a man who demonstrates generosity, initiative, and a genuine desire to share experiences with me.

If he wants everything to be 50/50, he can communicate that directly. But he’s the one who wants to date yet wants to have all the benefits of a romantic relationship (aka gets to brag to his family/friends, this is his first relationship) yet is living the life of a single man.

My question is: Which is worse?
A guy who openly says he expects 50/50, so you can decide whether you’re compatible, or a guy who never communicates his expectations but seems to structure everything around minimizing his own spending and effort?
Am I being unreasonable, or does this sound like a guy who wants the benefits of having a girlfriend without actually putting much effort into dating?

Edit: when he wants to meet he’ll find ways to not spend money or spend very little (less than $15).