Skip to main content

Posts

My wife keeps sneaking out at night. I finally followed her but now I regret it.

There’s nothing wrong with my marriage. Me and my wife have been peaches and cream since we first started dating when I was a freshman in college. We moved in together after graduation, and for the first few years, everything felt normal. We’d have our date nights. We’d have our intimacy. But, of course, as is the case with every marriage, arguments were inevitable. They never escalated, though. That was never our problem. The problem started when, after five years of living together, I started catching her sneaking out at night. She’d always wait until I was asleep. I know because, after a few times of me waking up in the middle of the night in an empty bed, red flags started popping up. At first, I didn’t want to assume. She was a smoker. Maybe she was just having a cigarette. Maybe she was just in the bathroom. She was hungry and in need of a midnight snack. Anything to keep the dark thoughts at bay. Unfortunately, those hopes were shattered when I started hearing the front door op...
Post a Comment
Read more
Recent posts

I joined a runclub and was assaulted by this guy

22/F. Utah. Uinta Basin. I moved here six months ago for a job I don't even like. My coworkers are fine but they're all married with kids and their idea of a wild Friday is happy hour at Applebee's. I needed friends. I needed to get out of my apartment. I needed something. So I joined a run club. Found them on a local Facebook group. Casual trail runners. All levels welcome. The photos were normal. Smiling people holding post run coffees. Sweaty selfies at trailheads. Everyone looked happy. Everyone looked safe. The first run was a Saturday morning. Five miles. Easy pace. I showed up nervous, new shoes, water bottle, pepper spray on my keychain because I'm not stupid. I know what it's like to be a woman alone. I know the rules. Don't walk to your car with headphones in. Don't leave your drink unattended. Don't trust a man just because he smiles at you. But he had a really nice smile. Let's call him Jake. I don't want to use his real name. I don...
Post a Comment
Read more

I wish my daughter would stop pretending to be human

This is incredibly difficult for me to talk about. I feel, I don’t know, ashamed, I guess. Like I’ve somehow failed as a parent. When I was growing up, I thought my parents hated me. I never wanted that for my daughter. I wanted her to know how much I loved her. That my love was unconditional. I’ve never felt as proud as I did the day she came into this world. It was almost like looking into a mirror. She had my eyes. My ears. Our noses were practically identical. And her smile, God, it was like nothing else mattered in the entire world. I wanted her to have that same pride in herself. I never wanted her to ever feel any self-hatred. That’s another thing my parents made me feel. I didn’t get their pride. I didn’t get their love. I got cold stares. I got nights where I couldn’t sleep because Mom’s cries were so loud. I didn’t ask for my family. I didn’t ask to be assigned to them. They were supposed to accept me, and they failed, miserably. I guess the universe has a strange sense of h...
Post a Comment
Read more

My girlfriend keeps telling me to stop with my attempts. I finally understand what she means.

I’m not usually one to snoop through my girlfriend’s personal devices. I always saw it as a breach of trust. But I’m only human. I wouldn’t have been so curious had it not been for this particular phrase she always used. “You gotta stop with your attempts.” She’d always say it in passing. Never “stop with your attempts to flirt,” or “stop with your attempts to get back on my good side.” Just… “you need to stop with your attempts,” randomly. At the grocery store, in the car, sometimes while we watched movies or had dinner together. The thing that I noticed was that she seemed to say it most when she was happy. It was like a tick. Her eyes would be filled with love and joy before suddenly dulling, and she’d shoot me a quick frown before saying it. I’d learned a long time ago that asking what she meant would get me nowhere. It’d always be the same. “I just love you! But then I think about the attempts, and I just get so sad. I wish you’d stop.” That’s all I’d get out of her. No explanati...
Post a Comment
Read more

My MIL tried to force my husband to divorce me and take our son. She didn't realize I already knew her whole plan.

**My MIL spent 8 months secretly building a fake custody case against me. I let her spring the trap before dropping my own evidence.** I never thought I’d be the kind of person who installs hidden cameras in my own living room, but here we are. To give some background: My husband "Lucas" (34M) and I (32F) have been married for six years. We live in Denver and have a 3-year-old son, Oliver. Before I had Oliver, I was a senior interior designer. I took about 18 months off after he was born, and honestly, I loved it, but by month 16, I was losing my mind. I missed my career. When my old firm offered my job back at three days a week, I cried happy tears and took it. Lucas was completely supportive, but we were stressed about the daycare waitlists in our area. Enter my mother-in-law, Margaret. Margaret had lost her husband a little over a year prior. It was sudden, and she was incredibly lonely living by herself in the suburbs. When she heard about my job, she immediately offered...
Post a Comment
Read more

My rich mother-in-law tried to frame me for embezzling $40k at a charity gala. She didn’t know I used to be a corporate auditor.

My name is Claire, and up until I met my husband Daniel, I lived a pretty boring life. I grew up in Columbus, Ohio. My dad fixed HVAC systems and my mom worked a dental front desk. I studied accounting in college because it was practical, got my CPA license, and became a senior corporate auditor in Chicago. I was really good at it. My old boss used to say I could find a missing penny in a spreadsheet with ten thousand rows. That was basically my superpower. Then I met Daniel. He was in Chicago for a work trip, we hit it off at a coffee shop, and eighteen months later we were married. I packed up my apartment and moved to San Francisco. That’s when I met his mother, Victoria. Victoria lived in Pacific Heights on a stretch some locals call Billionaire’s Row. The first time I walked into her house, it looked like a museum. Marble floors, oil paintings, a full-time staff. Victoria hugged me, told me I was exactly what Daniel needed, and played the perfect welcoming mother-in-law. It took ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Is it better to speak, or to die?

Is it better to speak, or to die? The question belonged on the pages of some dusty, forgotten philosophy book. I felt like one of those books - left on a bottom shelf, accumulating dust. Outside, the wind battered against the windows, echoing the chaos in my mind. I didn’t move. It didn’t matter; nothing matters when you’re sad. When you’re sad, the world feels ruined. What’s meant to be an ocean blue, calm and predictable becomes a tornado of waves sent to pull you under, to wrap seaweed around your frail neck - if you exist that is. Silence is an omen of peace, whereas, words are an enemy on a battlefield. Armoured and heavy with artillery and weapons, filled with hope for destruction, a destruction of peace. I kept my mouth shut, my teeth clenched tight as if my tongue was a trigger and my mouth a gun. I could hear the house settling, the floorboards groaning under the pressure of the foreboding wind, but I was listening for something else - the sound of somebody approaching, comin...
Post a Comment
Read more