Bimql chhetry.

We all know that feeling at the start of the day when you interact with someone pleasant, when someone says something kind to you, and suddenly your whole day feels better. An hour doesn't go by without thinking about that moment or that person. No matter what you do or where you go, it's as if you're carrying a little aura above your head and everything seems to fall into place. Well, that's exactly how I feel whenever I interact with a plus-size woman—whether through conversation, a simple gesture, or even just a brief exchange of glances. No, I'm not weird. I'm not obsessed. I'm simply a normal guy who happens to be attracted to plus-size women. To me, they are my weakness. They are that ray of sunshine that brings a smile to my face and warmth to my heart for the rest of the day. I'm no different from any other man. The only difference is that I don't have preferences for blonde or brunette hair, curly or straight hair, blue, green, or brown eye...

My husband is the perfect man. Every woman I know has told me so. I just found out why. We met three years ago. He was everything. Attentive. Funny. Remembered the name of my childhood dog on the second date. My friends were almost annoyed at how good he was. "Nobody's that perfect," my best friend Kara said. I laughed. I should have listened. The wedding was beautiful. The house came next. A Victorian fixer upper in a small town two hours from the city. His idea. "We need space," he said. "Away from all the noise." I agreed. I was in love. I would have agreed to anything. The first year was good. He cooked. He cleaned. He left notes on my pillow. He planned surprise trips. He never raised his voice. He never forgot an anniversary or a birthday or a random Tuesday he'd declared "us day." My mother adored him. My coworkers envied me. Kara stopped warning me and started saying she wished she could find someone like him. I noticed the first...

I'm going to tell you about the guy who sat across from me at work for three years. Let's call him Wren. Wren was the kind of person you notice but never really talk to. Not because he was unfriendly he wasn't. He was just quietly present. Always focused, always in his own world. The type who remembered to refill the shared printer paper without being asked. Which, honestly, in an office full of people who pretend not to notice the blinking red light that tells you everything. In three years, we had maybe exchanged ten words total. Mostly just "morning" and occasionally "do you know if the meeting room is free." I told myself it was because we were on different teams. Honestly? He had this calm, unbothered energy that I deeply did not possess and found slightly intimidating. Then one Thursday, my laptop charger gave up mid call not a warning flicker Just gone I got panic. I spotted his charger and walked over. "Do you have a charger? Mine just died...

Working the graveyard shift at a desolate highway gas station completely strips away your sense of time. The long, cracked stretches of asphalt extending in both directions remain entirely empty for hours. The fluorescent lights overhead hum with a constant, irritating vibration that settles deep into your teeth. I took the job because my bank account was completely depleted and the owner paid entirely in cash at the end of every single week. He was an older, heavy-set man who constantly chewed on unlit cigars and rarely looked me in the eyes when he spoke. During my first night, the owner handed me a heavy wooden clipboard holding a single sheet of lined paper. He tapped his thick finger against the top of the page. "The register automatically locks at midnight," the owner explained "You only accept cash through the sliding transaction window. You stay behind the bulletproof glass until six in the morning. I wrote down the daily tasks. You sweep the aisles, restock the...

We have all probably messed around in the bucket or pool as kids, flipping an empty plastic jug upside down into the water just to watch it trap a pocket of air underneath. It feels like a neat little physics trick when the inside stays perfectly dry, but if you scale that exact concept up and trap a real human inside, it can literally save a life. That’s exactly what happened with Harrison Okene. In 2013, his tugboat, the Jascon-4, was capsized by a massive wave off the Nigerian coast, sinking 100 feet to the seafloor. Harrison, the 29-year-old ship’s cook, was in the bathroom in his boxers when the water came flooding in. He tried to escape, but the watertight exit hatch wouldn’t open. As rushing water flooded the vessel, it swept him deeper into the ship, where he found himself inside another bathroom. But the room did not fully fill up, a small pocket of air formed near the ceiling, and that tiny bubble became his lifeline. Harrison got stuck in pitch-black freezing water. He coul...

On Saturday, I made the mistake of telling my wife, 'I'll be back in 45 minutes.' I put on my sneakers, grabbed my favorite hat, (it was 90 degrees in the Seattle area this weekend), and ran out the door. I had planned on running at least 13 miles. 5 miles into my run, headed southeast, I start hearing loud commentary. As I get closer, it becomes apparent that I've stumbled upon a FIFA World Cup watch party in downtown Renton \[Edit: The venue was Legacy Square\]. I went for a walk to our local downtown area where they've been broadcasting the FIFA World Cup games on a giant screen. As the sidewalk becomes more dense with people, I inevitably have to slow down my walk. A lady randomly hands me an umbrella and a guy welcomes me to the watch party. "What the hell?", I think to myself. What did I get myself into. \[EXCERPT REDCATED\] I'm cheering at the top of my lungs for Brazil because the guy sitting next to me was hilariously contagious. Anyways, an ...

I think my life is going to change a lot, restarting from scratch within a few weeks. No money, no prospects. Approaching my thirties. Moving back to my home country. I have been surviving the past decade and never lived. I have the determination and strength to start all over again, but I am so exhausted that I don't know if I want to do it anymore. Asking people on Reddit to share some positive stories where they felt like there was no way they could survive and the only logical step was to give up on everything, but they eventually picked up all the broken pieces and made something out of it.

I sleep in my own bed, separately from my wife with the exception of our “conjugal” visits. She’s always been accommodating of my solo sleeping, because she likes a warm room that is as silent as a crypt, and I like a room with the windows thrown open and a fan on. This noise drowns out my tinnitus (from shooting in the military) and the cold room is pleasant. What my wife doesn’t know, is that I secretly leave the house 3 nights a week, sometimes 4. I leave to ride my bicycle around the city at night, sometimes putting in 50-75 miles per ride. I wait until everyone in my house is asleep, usually about 10pm is a safe bet. I sneak into the yard, walk the bike to the street, and start riding. Ive made friends that are only out and about after dark. I’m friends with a striped cat that sleeps on an old broken RV in an alleyway and she lets me pick her up now. I love riding by the bakery, where people are preparing for the next morning and moving ingredients in and out of a big fluoresc...

So I drive a company box truck with tools and compartments all over it and this morning I stopped for gas and then pulled into a little side section of the parking lot to talk to my supervisor and plan my day. All of a sudden I hear "DRIVER STEP OUT AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP!" It gets repeated 2 more times before I look in my side view mirrors and see police officers on each side of my truck with guns drawn. From my perspective seeing them in the mirrors it looked the guns were pointed at me and I actually dropped my phone and put my hands up and started yelling back "my hands are up!". ​ They kept yelling and I was seriously about to step out of the truck when I heard a woman start screaming "FUCK YOU", "COME GET ME MOTHER FUCKERS!", ETC... That's when I looked ahead and realized a woman in a car had pulled into that same side lot and was parked about 20 feet in front of me and they were pointing the guns at her. The yelling back and forth went...

I didn't even realize this was my father's lifehack until long after I'd grown up. I just thought our family did things a little differently from others. My father had a side hustle of repairing dental handpieces on the kitchen table after dinner, and he cultivated a network of dentists that allowed us to live a nicer life than we could otherwise afford. For vacation we would visit a timeshare resort where he identified himself as Dr. SomebodyElse. We never got new bicycles, but whenever we needed our first or a replacement, he could always get us one that had been previously used by some dentist's child who had moved on to a car. Eventually I noticed our neighbors were always better off than we, but I didn't realize until later how unusual it was to move every year and a half or so, yet always staying within the same metro area. We would house-sit for people on important overseas assignments, highly educated people who moved in some of the same circles as dentists...

I accidentally exposed my boss's secret family... and I still don't know if I ruined lives or saved them. This happened about six months ago, and I'm still dealing with the fallout. I work in accounting for a mid-sized company. Nothing exciting. Just spreadsheets, invoices, payroll, the usual. My boss, "Mark," had been married to his wife for over 20 years. Everyone in the office knew her. She'd come to company parties, charity events, Christmas dinners. They seemed like one of those couples who had everything figured out. One Friday, Mark asked me to help organize expense reports before an audit. He was leaving early and gave me access to a folder I normally wouldn't see. While sorting receipts, I noticed dozens of hotel charges in a city three hours away. At first I assumed they were business trips. Then I saw the same last name listed repeatedly on restaurant reservations. Not his. A woman's. I wasn't trying to snoop, but I got curious. The cha...

I (F40m) reached out to someone on Reddit who had offered to guide me in getting started earning money with something I’m already doing as a hobby. He (M44m) told me what platforms to use, and all the boring beginners’ details. I was excited to get started. We shared some of our creations with each other. He had spent a lot more time in this field than I had, but it seemed I had more variety in my experience. I gathered inspiration, courage, and motivation from this stranger and really dug in to the idea of turning this hobby into cash flow. We uncannily had much in common. The more he shared, the more my mind expanded. The ideas, the possibilities. We complimented one another in a way that typically comes from years of knowing someone’s mind, after mere hours. I have no idea how long we texted back and forth the second day, but the overtones in the conversation went from sunny to shadowy and that’s when my mind was blown. These conversations got so deep and so heavy. The idea that th...

​ Hello, everyone. My grandson told me I should post my story online. Apparently, being 67 years old is some kind of "meme" these days. I don't really understand what that means, but here I am. I was born on March 8, 1959, in Nebraska, into a simple farming family. My mother left my father, my younger sister, and me when I was only four years old. For years, I didn't understand why. I loved her and believed she was simply away at work. One night, when I was a little over eight years old, my father came home drunk and angry. I don't remember why I chose that moment to ask, but I looked at him and said, "Dad, when is Mom coming back?" He stared at me for a long moment before shouting words I will never forget. "Your mother left us. She chose another life." Then he broke down crying, hugged me, and told me things no child should ever hear. That night changed me. As the years passed, I became angry. I fought other kids for no reason. I got into tr...

We were having a rough patch, but I never could’ve imagined in a million years that it would end like this. I remember when I used to look at her and see love looking back. True, unbridled love that kept me comfortable and secure. All I can say is I wish that she would’ve changed sooner. I wish that she didn’t wait until we had spent 20 years of our life together. Because now, I feel hopeless. I’m 52 years old. There’s no turning back the clocks. There’s no hoping she falls back in love with me. She hates what age has done to me. She hates that I’m losing my hair. She hates the way my face is starting to sag. And because she has learned to hate my appearance, it’s made it harder for her to look past my personality flaws. My irritability. My lack of energy. My lack of libido. I’d lost my ability to “woo” her more and more with each passing year. When her shoulder grew cold, all I could blame was myself. When our conversations became dry, all I could do was blame myself. And when she st...

When I was 21 I entered into an abusive relationship. It only lasted about 6 months before I walked away (picture the building exploding behind me as I decided to cut ties). However, he stalked me for about 6 more months- spreading lies and attempting to ruin my life behind the scenes by isolating my friends and family from me. He abused me physically, emotionally, mentally- all the ways. He had Münchausen Syndrome. He lied about multiple diagnoses, including cancer. I cleaned up his bodily fluids of all kinds after he puked, peed, pooped- claiming these were side effects of his treatments. He was faking it. I took him to fake doctor’s appointments where he would just walk to different areas of the building, leaving me in the waiting room. After 6 months of hell, he lured me to his car to talk, then locked the doors and drove off, effectively kidnapping me. He raped me for 24 hours off and on in his apartment, taking my phone away so I couldn’t contact anyone. Yes, I was naive and stu...

So, I want to first start off by saying I am from Texas, not California, which makes this story even crazier to me. A while back I was addicted to like hardcore substances that basically destroyed my life and my body and I was waking up in jail not knowing why I was there, overdosing in my car alone multiple times, like it was bad. So I decided one night that I had enough of my addiction and called a few rehabs to go to. A few of the rehabs in my direct city denied me because I went previously and walked out against medical advice just to go back to my addictions. But one rehab offered me a free plane ride to California as long as I stayed and got sober they would also pay for my plane ride back to Texas. Knowing my situation, this immediately felt like a better idea than to find a rehab in my own city because I knew if I went to one in my own city I would most likely just walk out again and go back to the same lifestyle, but if I went to a whole different state I would have no choice...

I’m in angst. That’s the only way I know how to describe it. Everything just feels so surreal right now. My wife and I have been together for the last 35 years. We married young and had our daughter around 10 years later. I still remember the day she had to be taken to the hospital. I was at work when her water broke, but instead of calling and demanding I get there as soon as possible, she told me that it was best I wait and that she was doing completely fine. I told her she was crazy if she thought I wasn’t gonna be there for the birth of my child, but she started screaming at me to stay where I was. I just chalked it up to birth hormones. I finished out the day, and as soon as I clocked out, I was flying to the hospital. It was a venture that proved fruitless, as when I arrived, my wife was nowhere to be found. And in the chaos of the busy hospital, my panic grew more and more until my pager started beeping. It was my wife’s number, and in a confused hurry, I found the nearest phon...

So I work as a mailman in Northern California. I work in an extremely affluent area(I’m middle class, I just deliver to the rich) and one of my customers was an older woman in her late 50s-early 60s who grew up in Soviet era Russia. She was a very kind woman and she’d always offer me drinks when it was hot. Anyways, I was speaking to her one day and I decided to ask her a question “what was one of the first big changes that you noticed when the Soviet Union collapsed?” And her response was very interesting. She said “I was finally able to buy my own clothes!” She explained that during the Soviet era, citizens were given clothing they were forced to wear and didn’t have a choice in the matter; once it collapsed, clothing stores started popping up and people could finally wear what they wanted. It makes you appreciate that things might be bad, but they can be much, much worse.

Admitted in my vows, actually, in front of all of our guests. Just kidding! For me, it was love at first sight for my (now) husband. Not so much for him. I was his little sister’s friend, with braces, and constant teen girl giggling. He was the older, much much hotter, couldn’t-care-less older brother down the hall. I obviously had no shot. Later, we met again through mutual friends, now both older, no headgear. I was just as in love, he was still just as cute, and this time I actually had a chance - I wasn’t going to blow it. I invited him to hang at my place after a friends birthday party and…. I had staged the place. I had casually left out a T-shirt of his favorite football team. You know, just tossed on the back of a chair. Oops! How did that get there? I left a CD of his favorite band on my nightstand, because obviously, that’s what any casual fan does. I love them too, duh! I had his favorite drink waiting in the fridge. Suuuuper casual. Was I a complete weirdo for doing this? ...

When I was a teenager I woke up in the middle of the night with an odd feeling. I went to check on my mom, but she was gone. I went to see if she had fallen asleep on the couch, but no. Her man was asleep in the out house because they had a fight. But anyway, I decided to go outside and look for her. But my shoes and jacket was gone. I thought to myself wtf? Did I put them in my room? I checked, but no. So I thought maybe they were outside? I went to look, but when I opened the door I found my mom comeing home while not only wearing my shoes but my blue cardigan. She had been in my room while I slept to get it. She even put her hair in a ponytail just like I did. I was like "Mom wtf are you doing in the middle of the night? Why did you stretch out my shoes too?" She then blocked my way into the pantry and I knew she was hideing something but decided to snoop around later when she was at work or something. The next day the police called me. They had found footage and footprin...

At lunchtime one day last year, I was going about my business trying to manage my severe afternoon exhaustion due to chronic illness while sitting upright in my bed eating a chicken burrito, hold the cheese, from Chipotle, when I suddenly started choking on a large bite of the dry tortilla/rice/chicken. Somehow, I was able to dash into the hallway and call for help, though barely audible. My wife screamed for my oldest son to call 911, but he couldn’t find her phone (we have no landline). Running up the stairs faster than you can say, “Extra guac, please,” she descended on me and delivered three hard slaps to my back, to no avail. Seconds from death, I was able to eke out, “Do the Heimlich maneuver.” “I don’t know how to do it!” she screamed back. Then, suddenly, I was twice lifted off the ground during a series of severe chest thrusts — more like massive bear hugs — in her desperate attempt to do the Heimlich maneuver. On the fifth one, I could finally breathe again. The next morning...