I know how terrible this makes me look, and believe me, I already despise myself enough for everyone in the comments. Three days ago I was looking for our spare duffel bag in the top shelf of our bedroom closet and found a little velvet box tucked inside an old running shoe. He didn't just buy a ring—it’s custom, exactly my style, and there was a printed itinerary for a surprise weekend trip to Maine next month. The normal reaction would be happy tears or butterflies, right? Instead, the air literally left my lungs. My hands went numb and I just felt this crushing, suffocating panic.

We’ve been together for five years. He is kind, reliable, treats me like gold, and loves me completely. But standing there holding that box, I finally admitted to myself what I’ve been burying for two years: I love him like family, but I am not in love with him. Im not excited about our future, I’ve just been comfortable and too cowardly to blow up our entire lives.

Teh guilt is making me physically sick. He’s walking around the apartment humming, planning our lives together, while I sit on the couch wanting to throw up. I know what I have to do before that trip, but breaking the heart of someone who did nothing wrong feels impossible.

My friend and I always used to joke that if one of us died, the other had to clear everything off their phone before giving it back to their family.
Unfortunately, one night, we were both drunk driving in his car when we got into a major accident. We were both taken to the hospital, but he died on the way. Somehow, I walked away with only minor injuries.
I had his phone because I was using it to search for music to play through the car’s Bluetooth when we crashed. A few hours later at the hospital, I remembered our agreement. While his family was devastated by his sudden death, I cleared his Google history, transferred $1,500 from his PayPal to mine, deleted the app, and returned his phone to his family.
We always promised to protect each other’s secrets, but I still wonder whether I was honoring our friendship or taking advantage of his death.

i want people to be happy because it means that happiness is possible but having her be like the pinnacle of being a woman on this earth is just so fucking hard. i dont know how to deal with it. i dont even follow her and i cant go an hour online without seeing her and everyone talking about how perfect she is. kylie is my age and like, i dont have any work done and its just so hard to feel like all of us women are being measured up to something that is completely unrealistic and unattainable for the rest of us. it just feels like she lives this completely perfect frictionless life and its fucking with me so much. im just so tired of people idolizing people theyve never met. like how much attention and admiration could she possibly need??? it feels like shes the most popular girl in school and no one will ever be as good as her. i dont fucking know. I KNOW this is embarrassing to admit. im just so tired of never feeling good enough as a woman

When I was a little boy, my aunt came to visit us with her husband during their summer vacation. My mom was busy, so she told my aunt to take me along to the beach. However, they went to a nudist beach, as they always did, even though I was with them. Back then, people didn't seem to have a problem swimming and sunbathing naked around children.

Ever since I saw her naked at that beach, that particular type of woman has remained my ultimate sexual fantasy.

I'm talking about a big, curvy ass with a little cellulite, just a slight belly, and large breasts that sag a little, with big, darker areolas. Stretch marks are a huge turn-on for me, as is a hairy pussy. Not a neatly trimmed bush, but a completely natural, unshaven intimate area.

My bio father is a deadbeat who walked out on me and my mom when I was only a baby. His family and I didn't talk all that much either when I was growing up. Once a year his parents would call and once every few years I would get a random call from one or two of his siblings. When I was 12 they informed me he had married someone and started another family. Three years later they asked me to reach out and have a relationship with the kids and maybe their mom and I said no. A year after I found out he got married, his wife found out about me. She got my mom's info from bio father's parents and she tried to bring me into the fold but mom told her I wasn't interested. She got in touch with me a few times after that begging for a relationship but I refused to entertain it.

She even told her kids about me and they wanted to see me so bad that I could hear them trying to talk to me when bio father's parents called a few years later. I had to hang up and I stopped accepting calls from my bio father's family. I got a couple of texts telling me how upset the kids and wife were to be rejected.

I can't say I ever cared. I feel no sense of responsibility for my bio father's wife or kids and I don't feel like having a relationship with them. They could reach out when they're grown and my answer will stay the same.

I (F26) went on a cruise with a group of friends 2 years ago. At one point, two of my friends and I got into an elevator to meet up with the rest of our group on another floor.
If you’ve ever been on a cruise, you know one of the best things about them is the buffet. Well, by the time I got on that elevator, I had already hit the buffet several times, and let’s just say my stomach was NOT happy with me.
So there I was, standing in a crowded elevator with my stomach doing backflips, when for some reason, I decided that THIS was the perfect moment to let out a fart.
Normally, I’m considerate enough to avoid doing something like that in a crowded space because I prefer not to subject innocent people to my bodily functions. But for some reason, that day, I chose violence.
And let me tell you, that was the most diabolical fart of my entire life.
The smell hit almost immediately. My friends looked absolutely disgusted, and I could see multiple people in the elevator making faces like they were experiencing actual physical pain. It was BAD. I even made a disgusted face myself to blend in with the crowd because, at that point, I was committed to the bit.
When we finally got off the elevator, my friends spent the rest of the cruise talking about that horrific fart. They kept bringing up how disgusting it was and speculating about who could have possibly committed such a crime.
Meanwhile, I was sitting there laughing internally, knowing full well that I was the culprit. Not a single person suspected me.
It has now been TWO YEARS, and my friends STILL bring up that elevator fart whenever they get the chance.
Part of me wants to come clean and finally admit that I was the one responsible for what may have been the most traumatic elevator ride of those strangers’ lives. But honestly? Another part of me wants to see just how long I can keep this secret going.
At this point, I’m genuinely curious how many more years I can get away with it.

I never really told anyone why i'm so protective of my phone number. most people probably think i'm just paranoid about privacy, and honestly, sometimes i wonder if they're right. There is a reason behind it that i don't really talk about.

The phone number i have today is the same one my mother gave me when she was still alive. she passed away about 15 years ago, and i kept it ever since. i know it's just a bunch of digits to everyone else but to me it's something that connects me to her. It's the number she knew, the one she used to call me on, and one of those little things that has stayed the same even though so much of my life has changed since she died.

A while back i joined a few sports clubs and car forums. gave them my real number because i didn't think much of it. Then the spam calls started, at first it was just a couple here and there, but eventually i was getting calls and texts from companies i never heard of. I cloaked my information online and found it listed on several data broker sites, i can't prove those forums were responsible, but it made me realize how little control i had over where my number ended up and for some reason, that genuinely scared me.

Notbecause spam calls are the worst thing in the world, but because i'm terrified that one day they'll get so bad i'll have no choice but to change my number. I know that probably sounds ridiculous. changing a phone number doesn't erase memories of someone.

Grief makes you hold onto weird things some people keep an old sweater or a piece of jewelry. i have those kinds of memories too, but this number is something i've carried around with me every single day for 15 years. so i started using separate cloaked numbers for websites and people i meet. at first it was just random signups, but eventually i started doing it with friends and people i genuinely like and that's the part i feel guilty about.

these people haven't done anything wrong. they don't deserve to be treated like they can't be trusted. but every time someone asks for my number, there's this hesitation i can't really explain without telling them something deeply personal, i don't want to tell everyone about my mother. i don't want to turn a simple exchange of phone numbers into a conversation about losing her.

So i give them another number, smile, and move on sometimes i wonder if she'd think i was being silly about all of this.

maybe she would, it's been 15 years, and there are already so many things about her that i can't get back.

I guess i'm just scared of losing one more thing connected to her, even if it's something as ordinary as a phone number.

and i feel awful that i've started keeping people at a distance because of it. I don't really know what i'm expecting anyone to say. i just needed to tell someone why something so small means so much to me.

Before anyone from IT comes for my neck, I already know I’m a massive fraud.

Eight months ago I started this mid-level data coordinator job. Every Friday, our department has to compile this monster weekly client report that used to take the previous team like six hours of manual data entry. During my second week, while digging through our chaotic shared drive, I stumbled upon a hidden folder with a template built by the senior analyst they laid off last year.

The file literally has all the VBA macros and formulas pre-programmed into two clickable buttons. You paste the raw dump, click twice, and the whole 40-page report formats itself in about twelve seconds. I didnt tell a soul.

Now, every Friday morning I pretend to be intensely focused with my headphones on, click teh buttons, and spend the next five hours browsing Reddit while looking stressed. Last week my director praised me in front of the whole department for "revolutionizing our workflow" and gave me a $200 bonus card.

I'm sweating bullets every day because two coworkers asked if I could host a workshop to teach them how I built it. I have zero clue how VBA works. If anyone opens that code, I am finished.

Fat women are lovely and amazing but that low self esteem cover yourself up wear the worst thing imaginable just cuz it's baggy really just puts me off.

Idk seeing a girl who hates how she looks is just so depressing and off-putting. How can I love you if you don't love yourself type of thing.

I am well aware why they are like that,but a fat girl in a crop top with her belly out is just too hot compared to someone who is just soooo covered up with super baggy things

Think is a strong word.

I am.

I can’t help it. Anytime that I am free or alone. I can’t shower without doing it. In the morning before work. When I get home. It’s constantly what I want to do.

Am I alone in this?

It has always been a fantasy of mine (24F) to show off my body to others, but lately I have been having a growing desire to post lewd photos of myself online. The idea of it affecting my family or career makes me nervous, but it is also so exciting. The idea of strangers on the internet lusting after me is so hot. I want to be seen as a slut and praised for it. I can’t get the thought of it out of my head, but I don’t know if I could go through with it either. I just know what I’m constantly craving.

I've never told anyone that I did this, not even my own parents

Back in 2018, around Christmas time my neighbors house was broken into and robbed, including the presents that were under their tree, the family had to spend what money was left in order to change their locks and fix their door

At the time I was 14, and I was about 2 months in to my part time job at the time, I was saving money for when I would move out so I wouldn't be screwed financially

My family has known these neighbors for as long as I could remember, they had 2 kids, one, their son was in college, around 19 at the time and the other, their daughter was around 10 at the time, at the time I felt bad for the family because the kid wasn't going to be getting much aside from a few gifts her grandparents had at their house

She was a good kid, and didn't deserve to have her Christmas ruined, I remembered overhearing her mother telling my mom that she was always talking about wanting a Nintendo Switch

So one night with the paycheck I got that night, I went to the local Walmart and bought a Nintendo Switch and a copy of Mario Kart 8 Deluxe, i then put it in a cardboard box and left it on my neighbors back porch

I've never told anyone it was me, about a week later my father asked why there was $400 missing from my bank account, I lied and told him that I "borrowed a friend $400"

He forgot about that $400 by the next week and we never spoke of it again

To this day neither my parents, or that family knows it was me who did it

a few days ago, I (16F) found a folded towel in the floor of my bathroom. I say ‘my bathroom’ because I am the only one who uses it to shower. Occasionally my younger brother does (12) but almost never. it was folded and looked unused so I put it back into the towel cabinet. today I grabbed a towel from the cabinet and put it outside the shower curtain while I showered. After, I picked it up and started to dry my body off. i noticed hair. everywhere. small pieces of hair were all over me. My knee-jerk reaction was I naired my hair. thankfully(?) no. I stood dumbfounded for a bit before I looked closer at the towel now on the floor. i opened it more. full of hair. pubes. i dont know whose. i don’t want to know. i soaped my body and hair three more times and then I linted rolled myself. i picked up the towel of pubes (which were everywhere now) and put it in a trash bag. i cleaned up what i could. i’m going to throw it away. i will never discuss this with my family. for reference though, my brother is 18 and my parents are both 48. I’m going to mexico tomorrow with my friend so I wont see them for a few days. i guess whoever left it there thought somebody else cleaned it up? should i say something or jump off a bridge. thanks reddit

Sooo back on this vent account for a different thing I have never shared : I exposed a cheater to his girlfriend, resulting in their breakup.

A few years back, I was on a dating app and I came across a profile of a guy who seemed totally my type. We end up matching and he asked me out for drinks near his. Went great.

He invited me to his place after. I was hoping to cuddle and maybe cozy up to him as I was having a lot of fun. Whilst at his house however, I noticed something strange. A pink contact lens case in his bathroom.

However, I mentioned jokingly right before about how I hate wearing lenses ( it was getting late and my eyes were feeling dry!) and he mentions hes never worn them but it must be rough.

At that point, I felt something shift in me. You have a pink contact lens case in your bathroom but you've.. never worn contacts? The fuck are these here? I didn't say anything but I felt a bit suspicious ( its his own place!)

Anyway, as it got late I had to be up early the next day so I was on my way, he offered to grab my shoes and as the shoe rack dropped, I saw a pair of shoes that did not look his size at ALL! Some white Af1s.

From there I will keep it short : I stalked his instagram a bit and found a tag which led me to \*drumroll please\*

His girlfriend.

Not just that - HIS GIRLFRIEND OF TWO YEARS . He said he'd been single a long time and yet here he was on her highlights 6 weeks ago. Literally what the fuck. Anyway, after I knew it, I blocked him. I made a fake account and dmd her everything which screenshots of his profile. She began instagram calling me and spamming but I didnt open the messages as I felt too scared to answer. I saw all their travel pics in Dubai and anniversaries and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Some time after, I checked on her page and saw he was gone from her highlights. I felt good. I mean, it must have hurt yes, but she clearly deserved better than that. Like your boyfriend is lying that he is single on dating apps, what the fuck?!

I don't believe he ever knew it was me as I purposely texted her in a different way. But whatever, it isnt my issue. I'm just glad I caught on. I would have felt awful sleeping with someone elses boyfriend.

I like to look at my own poop then I flush.

The reason I'm so aware of Granny's first husband is that he is the father of my favorite aunt and late uncle. This happened in a small town in Ohio, but his family was very influential in this town because they owned the newspaper.

I hate having to live with this dark family secret. He was likely drunk and hit a teenager on the side of the road while helping a friend with his car. It was at night. The boy was pinned between the two cars. Horrible, horrible, horrible.

To avoid any kind of repercussions, he and his young family just up and moved to Miami, FL. So the victim's family was left to grieve their child, with no sense of justice. Something they just had to accept somehow... What makes it worse is that the victim was a black teenager who came from a poor family. This was in the 50s. I found out from research that the victim had a lot of siblings, close in age, who probably never stopped grieving. This kills me.

Ironically, karma came knocking, and first husband ended up dying in a horrific car crash himself not too long after, in his sports car. Speeding and probably drinking again. He was a big partier and would often leave my granny alone with their young children. The papers back then reported some pretty gruesome details about the crash. Even though it happened in Miami, I hope the victim's family somehow found out about it.

I still think about the victim often. I hate that his life was stolen from him. That's all.

when i was new to reddit, whenever i made a post or comment i would remove the upvote that it automatically gives you because i thought it was unfair.
not really sure what i was on

I can’t stop thinking about my mouth smothering some wet pussy and tongue fucking ass while my mans watching . I just wana feel on a woman touch smell lick suck on a nipple. In my perfect world I would have a gf thats really my “bestfriend “that will take my mans dick sometimes but she’s mainly about me .

it’s not even a sexual thing to me, i don’t do it in hopes of satisfying the recipient i do it cause i enjoy every single second. my longest record was an hour and a half (with music) she said she came five times, i didn’t care. I’ve even gone so far as eating out a flesh-light while tickling my willy, immense experience it was but i threw out the flesh-light cause i felt like less of a man for having owned it.
i’m only posting this on here cause i feel like i cant usually speak on this without sounding like a “pick me” or like i’m trying to convince someone to sleep with me, i’m not ever trying to convince anyone to sleep with me, i’m only trying to convince people to let me eat whichever mysterious pussy awaits me.

So essentially just like the titles says I wish I were “sexy”. I 18F I have a cute face but always have struggled with accepting the size of my chest but since coming to college it’s got so much worse…. I envy the woman who get to wear sexy little tops or tight dresses. I’m not overweight or anything (not that that’s bad) I just need to make it clear that the issue comes from me being literally shapless I have gone to the gym bout 3-5 days out of the week for two years now I’m about 5ft and a healthy 105-110. So don’t preach to me abt health habits please I just need a place to vent and see similar story’s.
But anyway I can’t help but feel embarrassed about the way I feel towards my new roommate she’s got such a nice natural shape without working for it at all. We go out some nights and I just feel so jealous she gets to wear all these cute lingerie and sexy tops KNOWING she wants and is going to get laid that night she approaches tones of men and never gets turned down. I just wish I had the same reassurance in my own skin to feel like I have a higher chance of scoring then not when coming up to men because god knows I never get approached.

I’ve had boy friends in the past but any time I’ve got cute underwear or top to wear for them I always end up backing out because I feel like such a fraud of a woman. Why would I wear those things knowing I don’t have any of the good stuff to put in it… I don’t have the boobs to put in a sexy bra and my punan looks like a bashed crab 😔 I’ve never verbalized these feelings to anyone and come off as very confident. But while I was in relationships I just felt so gulty for having them miss out on the experience of curves like i too wish I had somthing to give you…

I just wish that i could approach men with a sexy outfit on with some good expectations out of it or wish i could wear some lingerie with the expectation that someone is not only excited to see it on me but have excitement towards taking it off. I would kill for the ability to just decide I feel like talking to someone or getting laid and know I can make it happen. And just seeing my roomie get that really fills me with envy for her. she’s exactly who I wish I were and I don’t know how to knock it off. If anyone has any advice for letting go of jealousy pls spill.😫😫😫

Just to be clear I don’t hold this against my roommate I love her and plan to room with her again next year , and treat her like any other friend but seeing her live my dream has taken quite the blow to how I see myself. (Sorry for any typos)

They're the only people who would truly care if I was gone. My friends like me but they could move on if I died. But my parents wouldn't they'd grieve about it for years and it pisses me off. They've always been too involved with me and I wish they would care less or could just die in a car crash and then I'd finally be free. There would be no one left who gives enough of a shit and I could drink or die or both and none of it would affect anyone.

Bueno la verdad no sé cómo empezar, actualmente estoy en segundo semestre y me enamore de mi profesora y lo peor es que no me enamore del físico de ella porque la clase es 100% virtual y por esa parte me termine enamorado de su voz, su personalidad, de su risa, bueno y cuando yo estaba una mañana en la universidad yo y dos compañeros más estábamos hablando de los trabajos de esa misma profesora ( la que yo me había enamorado) y eso llega uno de mis compañeros me muestra una foto de ella y yo en ese momento la encontré normal porque todavía no me había enamorado de ella, pues los días seguían pasando, hasta que ya empezamos el segundo corte con ella y hay es donde empezaron las actividades por equipos, dónde ella dijo que hiciéramos equipos yo sin pensarlo yo les escribí a mis dos compañeros con los que vimos la foto de la profesora, Pero ellos no me respondieron y decidieron hacer equipo con otros compañeros más y eso me dolió porque literalmente eramos inseparables, sin saber que eso me iba a cambiar las cosas, al final termine haciendo equipo con un compañero que solo hicimos como cuatro trabajos y el dejó de asistir, si, como lo están viendo, y pues cada vez que la profesora nos dejaba a solas con el grupo que escogimos en diferentes salas de reunión para adelantar las actividades y pues como mi compañero que me tocó hacer equipo no se volvio a conectar después de que nos organizarán entonces ella me empezó ayudar con los trabajos, actividades y lo normal, después paso un buen tiempo después de todo eso ya empezaba a sentir algo por ella y después me dije a mi mismo, lo que yo estaba empezando a sentir por ella era amabilidad hacia mi, lo deje pasar durante el primer corte, ya estamos en segundo corte y cuando empezamos ya estaba seguro que lo que sentía por ella si era algo más, pero yo se de que si abro la boca y se lo digo a ella, nuestra poca confianza que tenemos se puede perder y eso haría que ella se vuelva más estricta conmigo, Pero me lo estoy aguantando y terminar el semestre para después decírcelo o talvez nunca se lo diga, y mientras que estoy avanzando este segundo corte cada vez me lo estoy pensando, por un lado si se lo cuento la confianza que ella y yo tenemos se va a volver muy difícil de reconstruirlo y también si algunos de mis compañeros se entra la pueden chantajear y de paso ella podría ser despedida de su trabajo y de paso agarrarme un odio hacia mi y por el otro lado si me lo llegó a callar hasta que termine el semestre, podría tener una pequeña posibilidad con ella, Pero también estoy casi seguro es que igualmente ella me va a rechazar, y lo que estoy haciendo ahora es mejor callarlo y seguir construyendo una mejor confianza entre ella y yo, Pero si al final del semestre llegó a reunir el valor de decírcelo que pase lo que tenga que pasar porque gracias a ella pude "experimentar" el amor verdadero, porque lo que al final cuenta es que ella esté feliz con o sin mi, gracias por estar al final y yo los boy a mantener lo más actualizado posible 😁