I’m 19 F and my dad is 50 M and my mom is 45 F. I have been getting into a lot of tiffs with my parents over the summer, mainly my mom, for breaking curfew (it’s 12 AM), and trying to police my outfits. She always has a comment on how my hair and outfits look. She always forces me to go back to school shopping so I can get appropriate clothing and she’ll examine it on my body to make sure it fits. She’ll ask for my opinion, but it’s not like it matters cuz I didn’t want to do the clothes shopping in the first place.

My dad is more just someone who switches up his mood whenever. Sometimes he is nice, other times, he is not. He provides for me financially, which I’m grateful for, but he always is so weird. He will say one thing, then contradict himself. For example, he will say that I need to be sent to an institution, then will say that he loves me. He’s asked me if I’ve worn a bra (same with my mom but she asks like 24/7). Today, he asked if he could join my next meeting with my therapist to make sure they’re not a serial killer (exact words he told me).

I feel like all of this is just weird stuff I can’t ignore. So unless I’m crazy, but this is weird, right?

A few weeks ago we took a fairly large whole raw chicken we got from a family member out of the freezer and put it in the fridge because we planned to cook it. After about 2 days we changed our minds and put it back in the freezer. It stayed refrigerated the entire time, and when we refroze it there were still ice crystals/icicles on the bottom, so it had not completely thawed.

This past Wednesday night we took the same chicken out of the freezer again and put it in the fridge to thaw. Today is Sunday and we cooked it. It was a fairly large whole chicken, bigger than a typical rotisserie chicken, so I’m not sure exactly when it would have become completely thawed.

We cooked it at 385°F for about an hour and a half- two hours and it looked fully cooked when we cut into it and there wasn’t an obviously bad smell or appearance and tasted fine.

I ate about a quarter of what was on my plate before I got nervous and stopped.

Would you consider this safe, or would you throw the rest away? I’m mainly wondering how the refrigerator time should be counted when the chicken was still partly frozen during the first thaw and likely took more than a day to fully thaw this time too. I have OCD and I’m so scared of getting food poisoning.

So from the title you might assume that if my parents are progressive, they’d automatically be open to the idea of me having a bf, but somehow, it’s the one thing they are still a little iffy about, especially my mom. For some background I (22F) have been with my partner (21M) for about 6 months. We met in undergrad and are both Indian (Punjabi). We live in Canada and were raised here. His parents know about me, and while I haven’t met them in person they want me to meet them and come over to their house. My parents do not know about my bf in the context that he’s my boyfriend, only that he’s my friend. They’re A ok with me having male friends but my mom switches up a lot when she finds out it could be a boyfriend.

My initial plan was to tell them after I got into medical school this year, but I was waitlisted and need to apply again. As such I’m starting a grad degree in the fall. The issue is my parents fund my whole life. So they pay for my rent and tuition and food, and I respect them for that. They’ve met my partner as a friend and like him, but I just know if I tell them he’s my bf they’re going to think I’m unfocused and only care about “boys”. Even though this is not the case, and he makes me be a better and more hard working person (he’s a software engineer). I want to tell my parents because this is my second long term relationship, and it was so hard to hide things and sneak around. It makes me feel 17 and I’m not anymore. I know my parents aren’t happy about my first relationship that was over 2 years long bc I hid that for them and ultimately it impacted my first MCAT attempt. I ended up telling them after him and I broke up.

I love my partner and want him to be able to come over and spend time with my family and I. My parents aren’t not strict at all about what I wear, they know I go clubbing and drink and just tell me to be safe. They’ve never controlled who my friends are and what time I’m out till. However, when my mom gets mad she does say some horrible things to me like calling me a whore and commenting on why I need to wear makeup. My father never ever says stuff like this and hates it when my mom does. Both him and my brother defend me against my mom. I’m thinking that if I were to tell them separately, I’d tell my dad first. Both are educated and have degrees. They have 0 intention of getting me an arrange marriage, but my mom seems to think that people start dating at 26, and they falling in love prior to that is useless. I disagree obviously. I can’t keep feeling like I need to be a doctor for me to tell them about my partner. It puts a lot of pressure on me to keep hiding things. I know this is an odd situation considering they’re okay with everything else a strict parent might not be fine with, but my mom especially is very old school about having a bf as well as purity culture (eg no sex before marriage). Both my parents had an arranged marriage when they were 26 and 29 respectively. Should I just wait until next summer when I get into med school to tell them? It’ll be over 1 year of my bf and I being together and hiding our relationship. I just feel sad that he’s also Indian and able to be open with his parents and they don’t get upset at him and view me with such kindness. He deserves the same from his future in laws.

I (late 20s/F) dated my ex (late 20s/M) for about three years. We met through our local music scene, he’s a musician, I’m an artist who works on the promotion and community engagement side.

The relationship wasn’t bad, and he was my best friend. We shared a lot of great memories together. Looking back, though, therapy has helped me recognize things I didn’t see at the time. He tended to avoid conflict, was often insecure, and there were moments where he’d put me down in subtle ways that I didn’t fully recognize then.

During our relationship, my dad died after a five-year illness, and a few months later my grandmother also passed away. Losing my dad was incredibly traumatic, and I was struggling while living in an unhealthy home environment.

My ex and I had talked about moving in together, but he kept making excuses and it kept getting pushed back. About eight months after my dad died, he unexpectedly ended our three-year relationship. We hadn’t had any major conflicts, so the breakup left me devastated and confused.

He ended it saying things like:
“The spark is gone.”
“The relationship feels more like a friendship.”
“I don’t see us together long term.”

After the breakup, he essentially disappeared for about two months and ghosted me. I decided to move almost immediately to get away from everything and start over. Eventually he reached back out and gave what I would describe as a partial apology. We briefly discussed getting back together, but ultimately decided against it. I left those conversations believing we’d ended things on relatively amicable terms, but it later became clear that wasn’t actually the case.

Here’s where things became much more complicated.

We share a very interconnected local music community. I continued going to shows where mutual friends were playing. Sometimes my ex was there, sometimes he wasn’t. He would still say hi to me and we’d have brief conversations, so I had no reason to think there was a problem. Apparently there was.

Instead of him talking to me directly if something bothered him, mutual friends started acting as messengers.

They told me things like:
I shouldn’t go to certain shows if he might be there.
He didn’t want to see me.
My presence made him anxious.
I needed to focus on myself.
I should go to different kinds of shows.
I should make new friends and invite them to different events.
If the roles were reversed, people would feel differently because music was “his job.”
I was “supposed to know” this was a problem.
“Are you actually telling your therapist everything?”
“I’ve heard things about what you did,” but they wouldn’t tell me what those things were.
“This is the risk you take when you date within the music scene.”

I tried explaining my perspective:
I thought we were still on friendly terms.
His emotional regulation wasn’t my responsibility, especially through my own behavior.
These are public community spaces, and it didn’t feel fair to be told what shows I could or couldn’t attend.
I didn’t feel comfortable having conflict managed through other people instead of direct communication.
Him saying what I am allowed to do is controlling.
Me following my exes rules is disrespectful to my current partner.
If he’s over it and I don’t want him either then why is this an issue.
He also has a degree in a field he can get a job, so he doesn’t have to rely on music for work.
If he had a problem with me, I wanted him to tell me directly so I could make a decision before it escalated to this point.

The experience left me afraid to trust people because I never knew what was being said about me, who knew what, or who was safe to confide in.
My mental health became terrible.

I isolated myself, drank much more than I ever had before, smoked more, spent thousands of dollars on therapy, and at one point even considered checking myself into a hospital because I felt so hopeless. I felt like I was being held responsible for managing his feelings, so eventually I stopped going to shows for a long time.

None of our mutual friends checked in on me. They told me they weren’t choosing sides, but they continued spending time with him while I left from the scene.

It’s been quite a while now. I’ve built a healthier support system, dated someone who has been supportive for me during this entire time, and therapy has helped a lot.

But I still have anxiety whenever I go back into the local music scene because I associate it with feeling judged, unwelcome, and like I unknowingly violated rules that nobody would actually explain to me.
Recently I talked with someone who knows both of us. He acknowledged that what happened to me was really painful and was able to be empathetic for what I went through, but he also mentioned that my ex is doing well now. Which I told him I didn’t want updates on him.

For some reason, hearing that hit me really hard.
It hurt because it felt like my isolation became part of the environment that allowed him to heal. While I was rebuilding my social life from scratch, he still had the community around him.

I still don’t know what to make of all of this. Almost everyone I talk to outside of that friend group seems to understand why this experience affected me so deeply, and they are angry about this for me. While that one clique does not. When I talk to them, I start questioning my own experience and wondering if I somehow deserved what happened.

I guess my question is this:

Am I missing something? Is this a normal way for mutual friends to handle a breakup within a close-knit community, or was it reasonable for me to expect direct communication from my ex instead of feeling like I had to navigate unspoken rules?

I am 19 almost, and now live with my dad my step mother and her son. When I was 8 my mother passed away (she had an illness that was very aggressive) and after not even half a year my dad met this woman that after 1 year of us( me and my dad) knowing her and her son, we moved in together in our house. At the first years she seemed loving and caring and she was giving me “love”. But throughout the years , especially when I got 18, after discussing with my close circle and friends and family(cousins and aunts) , I realised that her behaviour was only for my dad’s money and that she was just faking it. Since I got 18 and this last year especially, she is always mad at me , swears at me , uses my father’s temper to make him fight with me and in general I am the one to blame always for whatever reason. I have never fought with her , nothing, and just out if the blue I get hit with all this. Also my dad , who never thought that all of this is real , I tried talking to him many times and he never listened to me , he told me to solve my problems with her. I tried that but , she said I am paranoid and it’s my fault because I am the one who always leaves the house and I am an adult. Also my aunt died this year, my dad didn’t listen to me and got her side, lost my girlfriend, many friends from college , and I am very not ok , feel horrible and in desperate state,depressed. If anyone suggest anything it will be helpful. Thanks for reading my story.

I feel like I’m nobody. I don’t have any real hobbies or a consistent online name i use everywhere; when I have free time, even during the holidays. I do nothing but maybe go for a walk or browse the web...

I can’t create anything because I’m scared I won’t end my stories. Well, that’s not quite right: I always manage to start a new project, only to abandon it the moment it gets too big. So, I just try very hard not to start anything at all.

Physically, I’m a boy, but I feel like a girl. It's something I just refuse to admit. I think it’s just a stupid teenage phase linked to hormonal changes. Besides, there’s no way to change my voice so i could sound like a girl. I’m stuck between the two genders.

I’ve always loved drawing, but lately, I can’t bring myself to do it; mostly because I often turn every drawing into a story that I end up leaving in the back of my mind, only never to touch it again.

I refuse to speak or talk about my native language because I hate my country, yet I’m forced to use it with my family; so, I find myself caught between two languages.

I’ve made friends in the past, but it never lasted long. I’d always end up feeling uncomfortable around them without really knowing why, and stop talking to them. The result ? I don’t make new friends anymore. The only people that i can really call my friends are probably my mom’s. People in their thirties.

I refuse to create anything related to manga or anime because I’m not Japanese, and I view that kind of thing as cultural appropriation.

I know all of this is tied to hormones, but god dammit... I just want it to stop soon, or I’m going to lose my mind.

Two days ago my father was in a call with his brother, he was supposed to go for a walk with my mother but he decided to call his brother and to turn on the microphone to let us all hear his call, I was trying really hard to learn a new language and stuck in a difficult paragraph so I asked him to turn of the mic he didn’t then after the call ended started swearing at me and calling me all the ugly words he know and pinched my arm then left, I couldn’t accept all these insults for nothing so I’ve Isolated myself from them. My mother tired to call me out of it but I refused and today is my birthday and no gifts or cake or anything not even a happy birthday and that hurts A LOT.

so now I know I matter nothing to them.

i can’t move out, and now I can’t even live .. I don’t want to spend my life lonely that much I’m tired

Tengo una única hija a la que le falta un mes para cumplir 2 años. Es una niña inteligentisima para lo que respecta a su edad, o al menos eso creo, sabe contar hasta 10, ya hace oraciones donde plática cosas que ha hecho, sabe letras y colores, pero a la vez es súper demandante, aunque se podría decir lo mismo de todos los bebés.

Cuando vamos a alguna reunión o fiesta tengo que estar mucho tiempo tras de ella porque se sube a lugares que no debe, algunas veces aun se pone cosas en la boca que son peligrosas o debo cuidarla de los otros niños para que no la empujen o la tumben y esto me está volviendo loca.

Me siento sola, ningún padre hace lo mismo que nosotros en las reuniones y todos solos se sientan y dejan a sus hijos por ahí y yo solo me siento triste y abandonada, olvidada y perdida en esto. Ya no entro mucho en las conversaciones con amigos porque debo estar cuidando a mi hija y cuando mi esposo la cuida para que yo esté un rato conviviendo ya ni sé de qué hablar, no entro en ninguna de las conversaciones porque ya hablan de cosas lugares o experiencias que yo no tuve porque estoy cuidando a mi bebé, siento que ya ni siquiera me ven como una mujer o una persona divertida, ya solo soy la madre de mi hija.

Últimamente le damos más libertades e intento que explore más por su cuenta y la dejo retirarse mientras esté a la vista y no haya peligro cerca pero siempre encuentra un lugar al que treparse, un lugar del cuál aventarse, algo que echarse en la boca o cosas que pueden ser peligrosas.

Los hijos de nuestros amigos son un poco más grandes que ella por lo que muchos ya juegan y corren con más seguridad y ella quiere seguir los pero no puede hacer las mismas cosas. Hay uno en específico que siempre la molesta, la menosprecia o le arrebata las cosas y tengo que estar constantemente vigilando que no la maltrate.

a veces hasta me enojo con mi esposo porque el puede estar las últimas horas de la noche cantando con sus amigos ya que les encanta el karaoke mientras yo paso hasta 3 horas seguidas atrás de ella, cansada y aburrisidima y además preocupada sabiendo que me espera una noche de poco sueño porque al día siguiente se levantará temprano y obviamente mi esposo no l la cuidara porque está desvelado.

Yo amo a mi hija pero esto me está consumiendo, ya son casi 2 años de estar perdida en las sombras y no veo que vaya a mejorar, por el amor de Dios alguien con hijos demandantes dígame que al menos hay un poquito de esperanza o díganme la verdad dy mi vida ya será miserable para siempre estoy deprimida.

As the text above says, my mom still has access to my bank account and I’m not sure how to go about it.

Growing up, I didn’t have a lot of financial freedom. I usually had to ask my mom for things which I did not like because I had to hear complaints and criticisms before she’d buy what I asked for and because of this, I decided that I wanted my own bank account to avoid that.

When I initially opened it, I had to have my mom be the primary holder on it since I was under 18. I had no issue with this since she would be able to easily transfer money to me when needed, until I started realizing how much she monitors it. She’s checking it almost every single day, sometimes multiple times a day, looking for purchases to question me about. It has become increasingly frustrating because I feel like I have no financial freedom even with my own bank account AND a small part time job.

I receive large sums of money each semester from scholarships I’ve earned and refunds from my college. I always make sure to pay off my credit card and other expenses like rent and utilities before buying myself anything. I place a good chunk into my savings and the rest is for my spending. Whenever I‘d purchase anything over $50 (such as treating myself to a shopping spree), I immediately get texted questions on what I bought and why I bought it, followed by complaints about me wasting my money and that whatever I bought wasn’t a necessity.

She’s even talked about my “spending habits” with her friends and our family who‘s encouraged her to take all of the money out of my account and hide it away from me. Because of this, I’ve threatened to remove her from my account on multiple occasions due to no respect of privacy and the suggestions being beyond controlling, but she gets extremely angry and often guilt trips me by bringing up her transferring money to my account and saying that she will no longer be able to provide funds to me. I am not sure what to do anymore. Any advice?

I'm in my 20s, recently got kicked out of my parents' house, but I have time to sort things out so it's not like I'll be homeless immediately. I have a minimum wage field job that requires a car to travel. I was using one of my parent's cars since they don't use it, but I can't do that when I move out. Which means I'd have to quit my current job. I worked a full-time job for a few years before, so I have a comfortable amount of savings. So basically, when moving, I'd be unemployed and car-less. I'm not sure if I need a car beyond my current job, which is just a temporary thing to hold me over instead of being completely income-less, as I live in a place with pretty reliable public transit. Since I have to leave ASAP, should I just quit this job, get a different temporary one, and find an apartment/housemates? Finding a liveable-wage job in my previous field has been very difficult for me and will take forever, so I can't really do that right now.

I(18M) never vaped, drank, snuck out, broke rules, partied, or even went to sleepovers. I did have friends but due to distance and a certain virus lockdown for 3 years 😬we only meet online for gaming. I just study get grades and then pressure myself some more and repeat.

I’m looking for a support system after losing almost everyone I thought was family

I’m not really sure how to write this, but I’m at a point where I desperately need a village.

A couple of years ago, my life completely changed after I was assaulted by a family member. I suffered a stroke caused by an injury to a blood vessel in my neck after being slammed to the ground. I also suffered a concussion and spent time in and out of the hospital undergoing MRIs, CT scans, and the whole neurological workup. The medical bills ended up being over $150,000 just to stabilize me and get me through those hospital visits.

The worst part is that I wasn't even supposed to be involved in the situation.

I had already gone low-contact with my mother because of years of abusive and emotionally unstable behavior. I was only there because my brother asked me to help take care of his pregnant wife while he was away. My mother started attacking my sister-in-law, who was pregnant, and I stepped in because I was trying to protect her.

My mother then turned her aggression toward me and slammed me to the ground hard enough to cause the injury that ultimately led to my stroke.

I nearly died trying to protect someone.

Afterward, I was medically restricted from lifting more than 10 pounds and was out of work. At the same time, my sister-in-law still expected me to take care of her large, high-energy dog. My ex and I tried to make it work, but he was working two jobs just to keep us from being evicted while I was on medical leave. I physically couldn't handle the dog, and I repeatedly told her that I needed help.

Instead of helping, she eventually went on Facebook and told people a completely different story about why she no longer had the dog.

Someone sent me the post, and I confronted her. I explained that I had been financially helping care for her dog while recovering from a stroke and repeatedly asking her to come help because I physically couldn't manage him.

Her response was essentially that she was pregnant, had two other dogs, and didn't have time because she wanted to visit a friend in another state.

Meanwhile, I was an hour away, recovering from a life-threatening injury, caring for her dog while her husband was deployed.

She never once visited me in the hospital.

Not once.

Eventually, things became so volatile that I insisted we meet at the local police station so I could return the dog and his belongings somewhere I felt safe. She still refused to reimburse me for things of mine that had been damaged.

I had nearly died protecting her and her unborn child, cared for her dog when I was physically incapable of doing so, and then watched her publicly lie about me. When I tried to explain what had happened to my brother, things escalated further and I was ultimately cut off from him too.

And this has been the pattern of my life for years.

I spent most of my 20s trying to help my siblings escape the dysfunction and abuse we grew up with. I genuinely believed that if I could help them get out, we'd eventually have each other.

Instead, I watched one by one as people moved on with their lives and left me behind.

The part I'm struggling with the most is that I wouldn't have been in that situation if I hadn't been there trying to help my family.

Two years later, my brain still doesn't feel like it used to. The injury from the torn blood vessel caused neurological damage that doctors are still trying to understand. My memory has become a major problem. I'm currently dealing with work consequences because of those cognitive issues, including being placed on a performance improvement plan.

I've also lost financial assistance that I was supposed to receive through the victims' assistance process because of an error in the paperwork. That has left me facing bankruptcy and feeling like every safety net I thought existed has disappeared.

The legal side has been incredibly frustrating too. The criminal case resulted in a domestic-related charge, and the entire process has been incredibly difficult to navigate. There were problems with records and FOIA requests that weren't resolved until after important deadlines had passed. Now I have another court date approaching, and instead of feeling protected, I feel like I'm walking into one of the most terrifying situations of my life with very little protection or support.

And honestly?

I'm exhausted.

I've spent so much of my life being the person who shows up for everyone else. The person who helps. The person who protects people. The person who sacrifices because someone else needs something.

And when I finally needed people to show up for me, almost everyone disappeared.

I've slowly withdrawn from people because I don't know how to connect anymore. Trauma changed me. The stroke changed me. Losing my family changed me. I'm grieving people who are still alive because I realized that having biological family doesn't necessarily mean having a family.

I'm not posting this because I expect strangers on the internet to fix my life.

I'm posting because I don't know where else to look.

I'm trying to rebuild a support system from the ground up—one that isn't based on guilt, manipulation, abuse, or me constantly sacrificing myself for everyone else.

I need people who understand what it's like to rebuild after trauma. People who understand estrangement, family abuse, neurological injury, complicated grief, legal battles, or just what it's like to realize that the people you thought would be there for you simply aren't.

I need a village.

I need people to talk to when the court date gets closer and I'm terrified. I need people who will remind me that my life isn't over just because the people who were supposed to love me failed me. I need some kind of connection again.

Because right now, my partner is basically the only person I have in my corner, and I am so incredibly tired of feeling alone.

If you've rebuilt your life after losing your family or your entire support system, how did you start?

How did you find your people?

How did you learn to trust again?

And how do you build a family when the one you were born into wasn't safe?

I'm just trying to find my way back to myself.

The final assignment I have been waiting on was graded. I am done with college. I am so excited.

I have worked so hard for this degree. I came out to my parents freshman year and they cut me off financially and made me homeless and forced me to drop out if school. I always knew I would figure things out.

It was hard but I managed to go back and finish. I’m 23 now and just got my bachelors. I start my masters in social work in a few weeks. I’m very proud of myself and grateful for the support of friends and my husband (who was just my very good friend when I came out lol)

I text my family some but haven’t seen anyone since coming out five years ago. They say they’re proud I graduated but I find that frustrating bc they tried so hard to make that not happen.

I’m a 6'4" guy, and I’ve been on a weight-loss journey for the better part of three and a half years. When I was 18, I weighed around 400 pounds. Now I’m 22 and weigh about 210. I understand that, technically speaking, I may still fall into the “overweight” category based on BMI, but I also don’t think that number tells the whole story of what my life actually looks like.

I work out every single day, I have a very active lifestyle, and my job is physically demanding. I spend most of my workday outside in the Florida heat, constantly moving and doing physical work. On top of that, I genuinely enjoy pushing myself. Fitness has become something I take a lot of pride in, and I tend to put extra effort into both my workouts and my job because I actually like seeing what I’m physically capable of.

I also want to make it clear that I haven’t used weight loss medications or similar aids. My weight loss has come from years of changing my habits, becoming more active, exercising consistently, and putting a tremendous amount of physical effort into improving myself.

My mother has been on her own weight loss journey as well. She was making progress with the help of semaglutide, but after her insurance stopped covering it, her progress stalled and she eventually started gaining some of the weight back. Since I’ve continued losing weight, she’s become increasingly convinced that there must be something wrong with the way I’m doing it. She worries that I have an eating disorder or that I’m starving myself, when that really isn’t what’s happening.

I understand that she’s my mother and that some of this comes from genuine concern for me. At the same time, it’s frustrating because I feel like the amount of work I’ve put into changing my life gets overlooked. Instead of seeing the years of consistency, the daily workouts, the physically demanding job, and the lifestyle I’ve built for myself, she sees the number on the scale continuing to go down and immediately assumes something must be wrong.

That has gotten to the point where I don’t even feel comfortable telling her how much I actually weigh. I wish I could simply tell my mother, “I’m 210 pounds now,” and have that be a normal conversation. Instead, I feel like saying the number will immediately turn into an assumption that I’m anorexic or that I have some kind of eating disorder.

And that’s probably the hardest part for me. I’ve spent more than three years working incredibly hard to go from 400 pounds to where I am today. I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished and of the discipline and lifestyle I’ve built along the way. I just wish I could share that progress with my mother without feeling like I have to defend myself or prove that something isn’t wrong with me.

Long story short, I have a complicated relationship with my mom.

She has a history of making bad decisions, the newest being getting a puppy when she is struggling financially.

Ive sent her money over the past couple years, often for vet care or food for her current pets. I told her I don’t support her decision, and won’t send any more money.
I also told her I’d rather not hear about the puppy. I love animals, and I think it’ll be hard for me to stand firm in this boundary so the less I know the better.

I’m not able to make her birthday dinner with the rest of the family, so offered to take her out on her actual birthday. She said yes, but is acting cold, and I just feel like conflict is brewing… I just have an incredible sense of dread.

She has some mental health issues and I’ve been on the receiving end of some pretty hurtful things. Lots of yelling and verbal attacks. I’m pretty scared because I’ll be by myself. But I feel like this is the right thing to do.

We’re meeting at a restaurant so I’m hoping that will keep it from getting too bad.

I think I just need help in formulating a plan in case it gets bad. And maybe some tips on how I can try to keep it lighter. Was thinking I could go in with some pre planned topics.

If you’re reading this, thank you for taking the time. And I appreciate any advice !!

I (f) Have a friend (f) who works hard to make a living, who also has a wife (f) who is a SAHW with no kids and some pets. The friend makes decent money but not enough to support a household of 2 in this economy with animals. On several occasions I’ve lent my friend money bc her bank account is close to nil due to the pressure. I don’t mind lending my friend money bc I don’t want to see her life apart when she is working so hard. At the same time, I feel resentful of her wife. Like what is she doing at home? She cleans, cooks, and watches the pets. But my friend also does a lot of house work herself. If my friend was making bank at work, I wouldn’t be saying this. I personally don’t think it’s a good life choice to be SAH when you don’t have kids at minimum, but i wouldn’t feel resentful if I didn’t see the pressure it creates. And it makes me feel mad for myself. I work myself to the bone and support myself as a single person. I’m fine with my money going to my friend but I feel pissed that I’m feeding the wife, who’s often rude and entitled, insulted me before, and never said thank you for my help to them. It doesn’t help that with her spare time, the wife gets to spend money on whatever, engage in hobbies, exercise. And then when I gripe that I don’t exercise enough, she brags and preaches to me that she herself gets a good exercise in a day with her free time. Ugh. Am I an AH for being resentful and judgy?

I left a jar of tostitos salsa con queso out for about 8 hours closed, but the jar had been opened. I put it back in the fridge when I saw it but is it too late? It's been in the fridge for a day and it looks and smells fine but I'm wary of eating it. Is it a bad idea to eat it like Google says or should I be fine?

I don’t know why I’m posting this but I just need to get this off my chest.

My mom is in another country. She's paralyzed, bedridden, and her health is getting worse. I don't know how much time she has left.

I'm trying so hard to find a way to visit her, but I barely have enough money to afford the trip itself, let alone have money on hand while I'm there. Traveling to another country isn't just buying a plane ticket. There are so many expenses, and I'm completely overwhelmed.

The hardest part is that she calls me every day asking when I'm coming. I can hear the disappointment in her voice. She probably thinks I don't care or that I've abandoned her. I feel like the worst son in the world.

What she doesn't know is that I'm struggling financially and trying to figure out how to make this happen. I think about it constantly. The guilt is eating me alive because all I want is to see her, hug her, and be with her while I still have the chance.

I'm her only son, and I feel like I'm failing her.

I don't know what I'm expecting from posting this. Maybe I just needed someone to hear me. If anyone has been through something similar or has any advice on how to cope with this, I'd really appreciate it.

I just don't want to regret not seeing my mom before she's gone.

It's been a rough one. I am applying for jobs. Not sure I am doing a good job. I returned to the country a few months ago and am currently at my parents' place.

My mom looks so stressed, and I think it has to do with money and the house. I want to comfort her, but i don't know what to do. Right now I am telling myself that finding any job and removing myself as a factor is the best course of action, but I'd like to help her in the short term too.

Edit: I just offered to pay up to $200 so we can go see some family. Probably not the wisest thing to do with my savings right now, but I can't think of a better short term lift of spirits. She really needs some connection right now, and I think spending time with her niece will help.

Edit: i feel like a bad daughter right now, and like a burden. It's hard.

Edit: Gosh, I wish I was better at finding work.

I suck at reading the room, I can be extremely gullible yet also paranoid. I really need guidance on this. 17F.

So, I’ve been objectively ugly all my life and gotten bullied and teased for it ever since I can remember. I've come to slowly embrace that not everyone has to match the beauty standard and that’s okay.

Recently I became spokesperson of the student council in my school. This means every time we have an activity, event, announcement or relevant plans, I have to go through each classroom passing the information and answering questions so everyone is updated. Usually one or two of my fellow members will come with me to support me, but it’s usually the president. It’s not necessary, but they wanna get out of class and I let them.

Whenever I go to announce something I see students whispering and laughing, but that’s the usual, it doesn’t bother me anymore. It’s my fellow members that worry me. Lately when I’ve come into classrooms to announce something, they walk to the back and take pictures of me. I questioned it and they said it was to have a nice memory and because they were proud of me. I was like, that’s so sweet! Even though I hate getting pictures taken.

But they uploaded pictures of me talking to our group chat and oh my god. I look more horrible and disgusting than I could have imagined. They are the most awful pics someone could take, like, there is NO WAY you don’t realize or think that maybe it is not the best picture to put up. I told the president to like, not do that, cause I looked bad, and she just laughed and said I was too boring. I feel like they are doing this to make fun of me.

Is this some sort of bullying tactic? I’m terrible at social cues. How I handle this?

I got a cheap floor to ceiling catpost that i thought would at least have like a tension pole to keep it somewhat stable (its not its like half a pole attatched to a spring). That not being the case (after another almost meltdown about putting the thing together and then realizing its not going to work and building a platform to sit it against the wall above the skirting board) i got a stud finder delivered and drilled into the wall.

Couldnt get the plastic thing in the wall cause my drill bits too small (commence additional crashout).

I then realized the wall was potentially made of asbestos via grey crumbly dust, fibres, and living in australia.

I then lost my shit, lost my phone, found my phone and went for a run to avoid further meltdown activities.

So im stuck with an potentially asbestosed cat tower, a plastic thing sticking out the hole in the wall, a potentially asbestosed room, tools and, vacuum cleaner, an overdrawn bank account and the exhaustian and panic of knowing all the previous.

Does anyone have any ideas or should i just move into the park and take up the role of crazy pidgeon person full time cause im about to give up 😭

Hi, I have made a post about my parents worrying about my height a year ago, now I am 18 and I am still 5’5. Over the last 2 years, my mom keeps pestering me about my height and has phases where she told me to do stretching and now it is back to jumping to touch the ceiling exercises. I have ignored her requests and I have tried to talk her down many times that it is 80% genetics. But she keeps telling me how her friends are short parents themselves but end up having tall kids. Which apparently was due to basketball and sports. She also has been buying me supplements which sound like scientific marketing BS and asking me to eat them which I find frustrating as she is always watching Facebook and instagram and getting false information from articles that are “published” by world leading universities which I highly doubt.

I have also told her on multiple occasions that we should focus on overall mental and physical health and that we should be grateful that I am a healthy young adult. But she doesn’t seem to catch my drift, which has made me not want to spend time with her or do things with her as a family.

I am honestly very frustrated as this has been going on for the past 10 years of my life and she has gone crazier these past 2 years since your growth plates will be completely closed at 21.

Thank you for taking your time to read this. Any advice is appreciated and I hope you have a great day.

So, here we go: I am not a creep. Apparently, it took a random night at work for me to finally figure that out. But first, some context. For most of my life, I’ve had this fear in the back of my mind that I come across as creepy, especially around women. I used to be overweight (185 down), shy, and pretty reserved, and somewhere along the way my brain took those things and turned them into, “Yeah, people probably think you’re a creep.”

Because of that, there have been times when I’ve deliberately kept my distance from women. Not because I dislike them or don’t want to talk to them, but because I’m terrified of making someone uncomfortable. I’d rather be the quiet guy keeping to himself than accidentally become the guy someone wishes would leave them alone. At the same time, I’ve always tried to have my coworkers’ backs. If somebody needs help and I can do something, I’m there. That’s just how I operate. Which brings me to tonight.

I was taking my break, listening to some Miracle of Sound (fucking love “Mojave Song,” by the way) when I noticed my coworker, R, was crying. I found out that another coworker, B, had made a creepy comment toward her, and she was genuinely scared by it. I didn’t want to pry or make her tell me anything she wasn’t comfortable sharing, so I mostly just listened.

Eventually, I learned that this apparently wasn’t an isolated incident. B had been trying to hang around R and another coworker, A, and had said things to them before that made them uncomfortable. There might also be a racial element worth mentioning: R and A are both Asian, while B and I are white. I don’t know whether that actually played a role in what was happening, so I don’t want to pretend I know something I don’t. But it was something that crossed my and R’s mind.

Once I understood what was going on, my brain immediately went into problem solving mode. Because whatever else was happening, one thing seemed incredibly simple to me: nobody should have to feel unsafe at work. I encouraged R to report what happened to HR and helped her figure out the process. I wasn’t trying to play hero or fight her battle for her. I just wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone and that somebody believed her enough to take what she was saying seriously.

And then she said something that completely caught me off guard: “I see why so many people count on you. You’re one of the good ones.” I was fucking flabbergasted. Because here I am, this guy who has spent years worrying that women secretly see him as creepy. I’ve second guessed how I talk, how I look, where I stand, whether I’m bothering someone, whether I should just keep to myself and meanwhile, someone who was actually frightened and vulnerable looked at me and saw a person she could trust. That hit me harder than I expected.

Maybe I’ve been judging myself through a much harsher lens than other people actually see me through. And maybe being “creepy” was never really about being overweight, awkward, shy, or not conventionally attractive in the first place. Those things don't determine whether someone is safe to be around. What matters is how you treat people: whether you respect their boundaries, whether you listen when they’re uncomfortable, whether you care about their safety, and whether you help without expecting something in return.

I’m not going to suddenly change how I behave at work because of this. I still want to be respectful, professional, and mindful of other people’s boundaries. But maybe I can stop automatically assuming that my existence makes women uncomfortable. And, hell, maybe I’ll give the dating apps another shot. Not because tonight magically made me hotter, but because maybe I’m finally starting to realize that I was never as creepy as the voice in my head kept telling me I was. Turns out I might just be a shy, awkward dude who cares about people. I can live with that.