Sometimes people keep secrets that later snowball into huge baggage they can’t tell anyone they love. Hiding something big can cause a lot of pain and tension, which is why they might want to confess it all and get it over with.
That’s probably why the r/confessions community has over 855k weekly visitors, many of whom share their secrets anonymously. Some of these stories are extremely shocking and heartbreaking, which is probably why they were kept hidden for so long.
#1 I Am Having Such A Hard Time Keeping My Adoption Secret
I've been a foster dad to my son since he was 5. He is now 9. He's been through a lot and has made significant progress. I am so proud of him. I've been trying to officially adopt him and have spent over $30,000 over the last two years to make it happen. He has no idea. The social worker came by to visit and I told him it was to see how he was doing, but he was worried that I might be getting rid of him so he's been very anxious and clingy, but I've been a bit emotional too. I am getting the paperwork all signed and sealed by my lawyer this Thursday (when the judge comes back to work). I want to surprise him by showing him that he is officially my son, although he always was and will. I thought about surprising him with the news at his favorite restaurant this Saturday with his Aunt and Uncle and cousins. Keeping this secret is harder than the actual adoption.
20points
#2 I Was A Perfect Match To Donate A Kidney To My Brother And I Lied To Our Entire Family
Four years ago my older brother suffered complete renal failure from a severe autoimmune condition. He needed a living kidney donor immediately or he was facing years of dialysis with terrible survival odds.
My parents, our cousins, and I all went to the hospital to get screened for tissue compatibility. A week later the transplant coordinator called me into her office privately. She told me I was a six out of six antigen match. A literal one-in-a-million perfect biological match.
she asked me if I was ready to proceed with surgery scheduling.
I looked her in the eye and said no. My brother spent my entire childhood physically tormenting me, stole twenty thousand dollars from my college savings account, and never showed a single ounce of remorse. The thought of giving up an organ and undergoing major surgery for someone who treated me like garbage made me physically sick.
I asked the coordinator to tell my family that my blood markers were medically INCOMPATIBLE.
Legally the medical team has to protect donor confidentiality, so they sent a formal letter stating I could not donate due to anatomical reasons. My family cried together in the waiting room and talked about how cruel genetic luck was.
He eventually got a deceased donor kidney fourteen months later and survived.
At every family holiday, my mom still holds my hand and says "I know you would of given him your own life if your body allowed it." I just nod and stare at my plate.
I would make the exact same choice today.
My parents, our cousins, and I all went to the hospital to get screened for tissue compatibility. A week later the transplant coordinator called me into her office privately. She told me I was a six out of six antigen match. A literal one-in-a-million perfect biological match.
she asked me if I was ready to proceed with surgery scheduling.
I looked her in the eye and said no. My brother spent my entire childhood physically tormenting me, stole twenty thousand dollars from my college savings account, and never showed a single ounce of remorse. The thought of giving up an organ and undergoing major surgery for someone who treated me like garbage made me physically sick.
I asked the coordinator to tell my family that my blood markers were medically INCOMPATIBLE.
Legally the medical team has to protect donor confidentiality, so they sent a formal letter stating I could not donate due to anatomical reasons. My family cried together in the waiting room and talked about how cruel genetic luck was.
He eventually got a deceased donor kidney fourteen months later and survived.
At every family holiday, my mom still holds my hand and says "I know you would of given him your own life if your body allowed it." I just nod and stare at my plate.
I would make the exact same choice today.
20points
#3 I Steal Hermit Crabs From Souvenir Shops
You know those hermit crabs they sell as pets to tourists in coastal souvenir shops, the ones with shells that have badly painted cartoon characters on them?
The ones that come free with the purchase of a little plastic carrier with a thin layer of brightly colored gravel, some flake food, and a shallow water dish with a sea sponge in it.
Maybe your parents let you get one while you were on vacation as a child because it's such a simple little pet, and maybe it lived for a few weeks or months or even a couple years in that little plastic box before you noticed a bad smell and found it [deceased]. And maybe you shrugged it off because it's just a little crab and they don't live long right?
Those crabs have a lifespan of 30+ years. Those crabs are highly social and need to be kept in groups. Those crabs require air that's around 80% humidity or higher in order to BREATHE, and kept at around 26 C/80 F. Those crabs need separate pools of both fresh and salt water (using marine aquarium salt) that are deep enough to fully submerse themselves in so they can regulate their internal salinity. They need large enclosures with deep substrate to burrow down in so they can molt. They need a varied and nutrient-rich diet with fresh fruit and veg.
The little crab you got as a souvenir in the same place selling custom airbrush shirts and shark-tooth necklaces [passed away slowly and painfully]. It's a miracle it made it that far to begin with, as all the hermit crabs sold in these shops (and major pet retailers) are collected from the wild. They have their natural shells broken off their bodies with a hammer so they have no choice but to wear some kitschy garbage with Spiderman painted on it. Roughly 50% don't survive the process and no one seems to care.
I care.
Several years ago I was in one of these shops and saw hundreds of hermit crabs kept in a bare, unheated open-air cage with only a shallow dish of water. I could smell them before I saw them, little bodies rotting in their shells and limbs strewn about. Children were encouraged to pick them up and play with them and beg their parents for one because they're hardly more complicated than a pet rock, right?
If I bought some of them I could give them a chance to live, but in doing so I'd be supporting a cruel industry. I'm not sure how long I paced around the shop with my moral dilemma before a sudden realization hit me: I have pockets.
As casually as I could, I picked out a couple sickly crabs and gently put them in my pocket. My heart was racing but no one stopped me when I walked out the door. And so started my life of crime.
I don't do it often, but if I'm in a town with one of those souvenir shops I'll pop on in and jailbreak a few hermit crabs. I gravitate towards the weak ones and those missing limbs. They're on their way out but I want them to have a chance, or to at least [pass] as comfortably as they can. The ones that've pulled through are all healthy and active now; a colony of contraband crabs. I love the background noise of their shells clacking against their terrarium and each other as they go about their crab business.
I'm a little drunk and sentimental tonight which is my excuse for writing all this. I have a feeling most folks won't care to read it all but I hope they do and somehow it'll make a difference.
If you made it through my rambling, thanks. May you never be pinched.
The ones that come free with the purchase of a little plastic carrier with a thin layer of brightly colored gravel, some flake food, and a shallow water dish with a sea sponge in it.
Maybe your parents let you get one while you were on vacation as a child because it's such a simple little pet, and maybe it lived for a few weeks or months or even a couple years in that little plastic box before you noticed a bad smell and found it [deceased]. And maybe you shrugged it off because it's just a little crab and they don't live long right?
Those crabs have a lifespan of 30+ years. Those crabs are highly social and need to be kept in groups. Those crabs require air that's around 80% humidity or higher in order to BREATHE, and kept at around 26 C/80 F. Those crabs need separate pools of both fresh and salt water (using marine aquarium salt) that are deep enough to fully submerse themselves in so they can regulate their internal salinity. They need large enclosures with deep substrate to burrow down in so they can molt. They need a varied and nutrient-rich diet with fresh fruit and veg.
The little crab you got as a souvenir in the same place selling custom airbrush shirts and shark-tooth necklaces [passed away slowly and painfully]. It's a miracle it made it that far to begin with, as all the hermit crabs sold in these shops (and major pet retailers) are collected from the wild. They have their natural shells broken off their bodies with a hammer so they have no choice but to wear some kitschy garbage with Spiderman painted on it. Roughly 50% don't survive the process and no one seems to care.
I care.
Several years ago I was in one of these shops and saw hundreds of hermit crabs kept in a bare, unheated open-air cage with only a shallow dish of water. I could smell them before I saw them, little bodies rotting in their shells and limbs strewn about. Children were encouraged to pick them up and play with them and beg their parents for one because they're hardly more complicated than a pet rock, right?
If I bought some of them I could give them a chance to live, but in doing so I'd be supporting a cruel industry. I'm not sure how long I paced around the shop with my moral dilemma before a sudden realization hit me: I have pockets.
As casually as I could, I picked out a couple sickly crabs and gently put them in my pocket. My heart was racing but no one stopped me when I walked out the door. And so started my life of crime.
I don't do it often, but if I'm in a town with one of those souvenir shops I'll pop on in and jailbreak a few hermit crabs. I gravitate towards the weak ones and those missing limbs. They're on their way out but I want them to have a chance, or to at least [pass] as comfortably as they can. The ones that've pulled through are all healthy and active now; a colony of contraband crabs. I love the background noise of their shells clacking against their terrarium and each other as they go about their crab business.
I'm a little drunk and sentimental tonight which is my excuse for writing all this. I have a feeling most folks won't care to read it all but I hope they do and somehow it'll make a difference.
If you made it through my rambling, thanks. May you never be pinched.
16points
Keeping a secret can seem fun and intriguing, but in reality, it often causes folks a lot of stress and tension. Columbia Business School notes that folks who hide things from people they love experience persistent mental burdens that keep making them feel worried, ashamed, or even embarrassed.
This might also affect the secret-keeper’s relationships with friends and family, as they may not be able to be fully themselves. This lack of faith in the other person’s understanding and support might weaken the bond between them and also create a cycle of negative feelings over time.
#4 I Tell Everyone The Reason I Do Beekeeping As A Hobby Is Because I Want The Honey And To Help Prevent Colony Collapse
The real reason I started to is because my mother is extremely allergic to them and now she won't come near my home anymore.
14points
#5 I Ruined A Marriage Over Unpaid Babysitting
I used to babysit for a couple whose husband was always away on business trips. The wife was cheating and constantly came home late, completely ignoring my extra hours and refusing to pay me. The final straw was when she was three hours late and stiffed me on the spot again. The very next time her side guy came over, I snapped a clear picture of them together. I texted it directly to her husband with a note: ""Since I’m not getting paid, thought you should see what she’s busy doing."" Their marriage ended shortly after, and I consider my debt fully settled.
14points
#6 I Used To Pay My Middle School Bully Not To Bully Me Then I Found Out He Actually Needed The Money
He made my life a living hell. He would turn all the boys in class against me and bully me about my eyebrows. One time he begged me to buy him pizza and said he promises not to bully me all week if i do. So I bought him a box of pizza and he fulfilled his promise. I loved the idea. I began to do it on a regular basis. I started asking him every Friday what he wants next week so that the bullying doesn't happen again. He asked for 2 bags of hot fries (a potato chip flavor here in the US) and another time he wanted some milk from the cafeteria. And once he asked for colored pencils for art class.
My school had a uniform dress code. It was $25 per shirt and the pants were $15, if I remember correctly. He showed up the first day of 8th grade in regular clothes, a tee and jeans. So he got sent to the main office to wait for his parents. My aunt was there because she used to drop off my lunch and hand me money to buy food after school. She saw him upset and asked what's wrong and he starts crying lightly. His parents wouldn't come because they couldn't afford the uniform and decided it would be best to avoid the situation. After my aunt hands me my lunch, she buys him a uniform hoodie, a couple of tees, and a long sleeve. He said he had pants at home and he was hesitant to accept but eventually took them and thanked her.
Now (13 years later) he runs a nonprofit that has something to do with kids receiving books. I think it's sweet and I forgive him for being a bully because he didn't grow up to be an a-hole like most bullies.
My school had a uniform dress code. It was $25 per shirt and the pants were $15, if I remember correctly. He showed up the first day of 8th grade in regular clothes, a tee and jeans. So he got sent to the main office to wait for his parents. My aunt was there because she used to drop off my lunch and hand me money to buy food after school. She saw him upset and asked what's wrong and he starts crying lightly. His parents wouldn't come because they couldn't afford the uniform and decided it would be best to avoid the situation. After my aunt hands me my lunch, she buys him a uniform hoodie, a couple of tees, and a long sleeve. He said he had pants at home and he was hesitant to accept but eventually took them and thanked her.
Now (13 years later) he runs a nonprofit that has something to do with kids receiving books. I think it's sweet and I forgive him for being a bully because he didn't grow up to be an a-hole like most bullies.
13points
Folks hide things from their loved ones for many reasons, and Psychology Today explains that one reason could be to prevent harm to others. This could involve secrets that might make someone feel bad or burden them, so the individual keeps the information to themselves.
Some of the most common things folks hide that they feel might affect others include money, relationship status, how they feel about their family, their true emotions about a loved one, and any wrong actions they might have taken. Unfortunately, in a bid to protect the other person, the secret-keeper might unintentionally hurt that same individual in the end.
#7 I'm A Straight Man Who Goes To Gay Bars
If I feel like getting drunk by myself I will go to a gay bar rather than a straight one because I like the attention I get, it's more relaxed because I don't have to worry about drunk insecure dude brahs with something to prove, plus I can drink fruity drinks without being seen as less of a man.
13points
#8 I Broke Up With My Boyfriend Because He Yelled At Me
I'm a 29 year old woman.
He and I dated for about eight months. Our relationship was fine. We did things together, we had fun. There weren't any obvious red flags, but I always got this feeling that he didn't value me much. At times he seemed a bit cold and acted like he was annoyed with me for no apparent reason.
It all came to a head when, three days ago when we were hanging out at my place, he asked me to hand him the TV remote. I was sitting right next to him on the couch and was working on my laptop. I reached for the remote without looking and accidentally handed him my phone instead.
I though it was funny after I realized what I had done. I laughed as I handed him the actual remote. He had that same annoyed look on his face. He began yelling at me and called me "a stupid [b-word]".
I was stunned. I have NEVER raised my voice at him, or disrespected him in any way. I did not deserve to be treated this way. I told him our relationship was over and asked him to leave. He told me to calm down and stop overreacting.
I simply walked to the front door opened it wide and told him to get out, and never come back. He walked out telling me I was being dramatic.
The very next day I returned the presents he had given me. They meant nothing to me now.
My friends are telling me that I DID overreact and I shouldn't just end a relationship because he yelled at me once, and have asked me to patch things up. His friends too began harassing me on social media. I blocked them all (HIS friends, not mine).
I'm not going to reach out to him to try to "work things out" as some people have suggested. Because I know that I do not deserve this treatment. I've always treated him with respect and I deserve that in return.
I just needed to tell somebody. Thank you for reading.
He and I dated for about eight months. Our relationship was fine. We did things together, we had fun. There weren't any obvious red flags, but I always got this feeling that he didn't value me much. At times he seemed a bit cold and acted like he was annoyed with me for no apparent reason.
It all came to a head when, three days ago when we were hanging out at my place, he asked me to hand him the TV remote. I was sitting right next to him on the couch and was working on my laptop. I reached for the remote without looking and accidentally handed him my phone instead.
I though it was funny after I realized what I had done. I laughed as I handed him the actual remote. He had that same annoyed look on his face. He began yelling at me and called me "a stupid [b-word]".
I was stunned. I have NEVER raised my voice at him, or disrespected him in any way. I did not deserve to be treated this way. I told him our relationship was over and asked him to leave. He told me to calm down and stop overreacting.
I simply walked to the front door opened it wide and told him to get out, and never come back. He walked out telling me I was being dramatic.
The very next day I returned the presents he had given me. They meant nothing to me now.
My friends are telling me that I DID overreact and I shouldn't just end a relationship because he yelled at me once, and have asked me to patch things up. His friends too began harassing me on social media. I blocked them all (HIS friends, not mine).
I'm not going to reach out to him to try to "work things out" as some people have suggested. Because I know that I do not deserve this treatment. I've always treated him with respect and I deserve that in return.
I just needed to tell somebody. Thank you for reading.
Report
12points
#9 What I’m Not Telling My Kids
I recently won a large amount of money and I am not telling my children. They have sucked the life out of me for a quarter of a century. I don’t speak to either one of them because they have let [illegal substances] rule their lives. I’m spending it on me.
Report
11points
Many of these confessions come from folks who don’t want to open up about their lives because they fear backlash from friends and family. Protecting ourselves from harm is one of the most basic human instincts, and it’s understandable that folks might feel uncomfortable exposing their actions and behavior.
One common example is “stealth shopping,” where someone secretly makes a big purchase and hides it from their spouse. They might keep it hidden because they fear their significant other’s reaction, or because they're trying to avoid a confrontation.
#10 I Clean Up My House Every Morning And Come Back To It Trashed After Work, And I Couldn't Be Happier Because Of It
So, I hate cleaning the house, sometimes I enjoy getting in the groove to some music, but mostly it's just tedious and I don't get any help with it.
When my, now wife, first moved in together, she was going through a bout of depression and for a few years I would go to bed with her, wake up and go to work, and come back home most days her still sleeping, or if awake has yet to leave the bed, with her only really being up when I was home.
So everyday, the living room was the same way it was the moment I left, some times going weeks being untouched and it started to make me feel lonely because it was like I lived by myself all over again. As if Nothing happens when I wasn't looking. Growing up in a family of 6, with many pets, and alot of stray acquaintances(My folks allow friends and family to bum off us when going through tough times as a sort of halfway home); there was never a dull moment in the house, for better or worse, which made it feel like it was home.
After no small amount of therapy and constant love, care, and commitment, she's been slowly cracking through her depression with only occasional bad days. And we have recently had our lovely daughter join our life. We just moved to a new area and a new house, my wife plays with the kid in the living room, gets her changed in the child's bedroom, makes herself and the little one some food in the kitchen now that she's eating more solids, and our little one destroys what ever she can get her hands on.
Coming home to see my daughter crawling over mommy as they watch PBS, my wife laughing and playing, my house in a lovely mess of activity and life, and I couldn't be any happier. Well if I could get hand with the dishes, that'd be nice, but with such a big victory, I'm not going to complain too much just yet.
When my, now wife, first moved in together, she was going through a bout of depression and for a few years I would go to bed with her, wake up and go to work, and come back home most days her still sleeping, or if awake has yet to leave the bed, with her only really being up when I was home.
So everyday, the living room was the same way it was the moment I left, some times going weeks being untouched and it started to make me feel lonely because it was like I lived by myself all over again. As if Nothing happens when I wasn't looking. Growing up in a family of 6, with many pets, and alot of stray acquaintances(My folks allow friends and family to bum off us when going through tough times as a sort of halfway home); there was never a dull moment in the house, for better or worse, which made it feel like it was home.
After no small amount of therapy and constant love, care, and commitment, she's been slowly cracking through her depression with only occasional bad days. And we have recently had our lovely daughter join our life. We just moved to a new area and a new house, my wife plays with the kid in the living room, gets her changed in the child's bedroom, makes herself and the little one some food in the kitchen now that she's eating more solids, and our little one destroys what ever she can get her hands on.
Coming home to see my daughter crawling over mommy as they watch PBS, my wife laughing and playing, my house in a lovely mess of activity and life, and I couldn't be any happier. Well if I could get hand with the dishes, that'd be nice, but with such a big victory, I'm not going to complain too much just yet.
11points
#11 I Replaced My Autistic Brother's Cat Five Years Ago And He Still Has No Idea
My younger brother is non-verbal and has severe sensory processing disorder. When he was ten, our parents adopted an older black shorthair cat named Barnaby. That cat was his entire universe. Whenever my brother had violent meltdowns, Barnaby was the only living thing that could calm his nervous system down.
In the winter of 2019 while my brother was at a specialized three-week sensory camp, Barnaby suddenly passed away in his sleep from heart failure. My mother was hysterical. She knew that returning home to an empty room would trigger an irrevesible emotional spiral for my brother.
i drove across three counties and visited six different animal shelters in forty-eight hours until I found an identical three-year-old black cat with the exact same notched left ear. I brought him home, rubbed his fur in Barnaby's old blankets, and placed him on my brother's bed.
When my brother came home, he paused for three seconds, buried his face in the cat's fur, and started purring back at him. It's been five years now. The new cat sleeps on his chest every single night without fail.
I feel a sick knot of guilt in my chest every time I watch them together, but I will carry this lie to my grave.
In the winter of 2019 while my brother was at a specialized three-week sensory camp, Barnaby suddenly passed away in his sleep from heart failure. My mother was hysterical. She knew that returning home to an empty room would trigger an irrevesible emotional spiral for my brother.
i drove across three counties and visited six different animal shelters in forty-eight hours until I found an identical three-year-old black cat with the exact same notched left ear. I brought him home, rubbed his fur in Barnaby's old blankets, and placed him on my brother's bed.
When my brother came home, he paused for three seconds, buried his face in the cat's fur, and started purring back at him. It's been five years now. The new cat sleeps on his chest every single night without fail.
I feel a sick knot of guilt in my chest every time I watch them together, but I will carry this lie to my grave.
11points
#12 I Have Cancer But Haven't Told Anyone
I was diagnosed with cancer a little over two weeks ago, after a regular checkup. Turns out I have a tumour on my colon that has spread to other areas (liver and lungs so far) and will require extensive chemo and surgery for any chance to live longer than 8 months.
I'm not having any treatment and I haven't told my wife because she'll only pressure me to get the treatment, which result in months of pain and suffering for a relatively small chance.
Instead, I'm making sure our last few months together are filled with only happy memories. I'm starting work later and finishing earlier each day, to make her breakfast in bed and take her on dates in the evenings.
My landlord I rent my workshop from has agreed to let me run my business rent free for the next 6 months, which means significantly less financial stress and I can save a lot more, so she has something to carry her over afterwards.
I hope she'll forgive me for taking this path.
I'm not having any treatment and I haven't told my wife because she'll only pressure me to get the treatment, which result in months of pain and suffering for a relatively small chance.
Instead, I'm making sure our last few months together are filled with only happy memories. I'm starting work later and finishing earlier each day, to make her breakfast in bed and take her on dates in the evenings.
My landlord I rent my workshop from has agreed to let me run my business rent free for the next 6 months, which means significantly less financial stress and I can save a lot more, so she has something to carry her over afterwards.
I hope she'll forgive me for taking this path.
10points
It can be hard to know when to confess a secret, and it’s easy to say folks should never hide things from their loved ones. The problem is that this is complex; someone might want to protect themselves from guilt and shame, as well as spare their partner the pain of betrayal.
That’s why it’s best to think through the decision carefully and wait for a calm moment to actually open up about what’s on your mind. Even talking with a trusted friend or seeking help from a professional can help you work through those feelings before you confess everything to your loved one.
#13 I Wish I Had Aborted My 6 Year Old Down Syndrome Son
It was this time 7 years ago I got the diagnosis while pregnant. It was this time 7 years ago I had 2 choices, to abort or to continue my pregnancy and I chose to continue my pregnancy. It was the worst mistake I made. He’s non verbal still. Going to work was my saving grace but with this virus I remember why I hate the life I’m living. I listened to all those people in the Down syndrome group about how great life is with our kids. I wish I could turn the clock back around, ignore those people, and terminated.
For now i am trapped. And no one understands.
For now i am trapped. And no one understands.
10points
#14 I Pretended To Hate My Neighbor’s Cooking For 4 Years… Because Her Husband Confided In Me That It Was The Only Joy She Had
Four years ago my neighbor (70s, very sweet) started bringing me food every Sunday because “you’re too skinny to live alone.” Her cooking was… uh… aggressively experimental. Paper-dry meat, mysterious spice combos, soups that tasted like wet socks.
One night her husband pulled me aside outside and said:
“Thank you for pretending to like her food. She lost her sense of purpose after retirement. Cooking keeps her alive.”
So I doubled down. I hyped every dish like it was Michelin-level. She would beam every time. It became this whole ritual, she’d hand me a plastic container, I’d compliment her seasoning, she’d blush and wave me off.
Fast forward to last month. Her husband had a mild stroke. They changed his diet, and she’s too overwhelmed to cook. The meals stopped.
And I realized something: I actually miss them. Not the food, hell no, but the weird warmth of it. It felt like someone was caring about me in their own clumsy way.
I want to check in on her, but I feel like if I ask for food again it’ll come off insulting, and if I don’t, I’ll seem ungrateful.
So I’ve been silently grieving the world’s worst lasagna.
One night her husband pulled me aside outside and said:
“Thank you for pretending to like her food. She lost her sense of purpose after retirement. Cooking keeps her alive.”
So I doubled down. I hyped every dish like it was Michelin-level. She would beam every time. It became this whole ritual, she’d hand me a plastic container, I’d compliment her seasoning, she’d blush and wave me off.
Fast forward to last month. Her husband had a mild stroke. They changed his diet, and she’s too overwhelmed to cook. The meals stopped.
And I realized something: I actually miss them. Not the food, hell no, but the weird warmth of it. It felt like someone was caring about me in their own clumsy way.
I want to check in on her, but I feel like if I ask for food again it’ll come off insulting, and if I don’t, I’ll seem ungrateful.
So I’ve been silently grieving the world’s worst lasagna.
10points
#15 I Was The One Who Anonymously Sent My Best Friend's Wife Proof Of His Affair, And I Pretend To Comfort Him Every Day
We’ve been friends since high school. Last year, his wife gave birth to their first child, and almost immediately, he started sleeping with a young intern from his branch office.
He didnt even bother hiding it from our private group chat. He would brag about lying to his wife while she was at home struggling with postpartum recovery, sending gross texts about his hotel hookups on "work trips." The other guys in the chat stayed silent or laughed along, but it made me sick to my stomach.
i created a throwaway encrypted email, compiled unedited screenshots of his messages and the hotel receipts he bragged about, and sent everything straight to his wife.
She filed for divorce two days later, secured full custody, and kicked him out. He currently sleeps on his cousin’s couch and calls me every night crying, begging to know which "snake" betrayed him and destroyed his family.
I listen to him sob on speaker while playing video games, tell him "stay strong bro," and hang up with absolutly zero guilt.
Some people deserve to lose everything.
He didnt even bother hiding it from our private group chat. He would brag about lying to his wife while she was at home struggling with postpartum recovery, sending gross texts about his hotel hookups on "work trips." The other guys in the chat stayed silent or laughed along, but it made me sick to my stomach.
i created a throwaway encrypted email, compiled unedited screenshots of his messages and the hotel receipts he bragged about, and sent everything straight to his wife.
She filed for divorce two days later, secured full custody, and kicked him out. He currently sleeps on his cousin’s couch and calls me every night crying, begging to know which "snake" betrayed him and destroyed his family.
I listen to him sob on speaker while playing video games, tell him "stay strong bro," and hang up with absolutly zero guilt.
Some people deserve to lose everything.
10points
Some situations make people more willing to reveal their secrets, and the National Communications Association explains that this usually happens when folks feel the other person needs to know. For example, if someone learns something their family has hidden from their partner, they might feel more inclined to tell them.
With friends and family, people might also rethink whether to open up about their secrets because they fear the potential backlash. Especially for children with their parents, since the consequences of revealing hidden information might be high, they may be less inclined to share.
#16 I Secretly Put Money In My Pants Pockets So My Husband Will Do The Laundry
I put $5 to $10 a week in my clothes. He thinks he is getting one over on me because we both have a weekly budget. He doesn't know that he is part of my budget. If I even try to do the laundry he is like "No, I got it." Worth every red cent.
9points
#17 I Fake An Accent At My Job
My heart is pounding writing this because I literally haven’t told anyone this. So I work at this one store, and I work on the sales floor; but before all that, I was just one person interviewing for a position at the store. Before I arrived for my interview, a friend of mine dared me to interview in a British accent. I said I’d do it only if they paid me, and to my surprise, they sent me like $10 through venmo (which was more than enough for me). I went into the interview with the mindset that I wasn’t gonna get hired and they inevitably hired me on the spot. Accent and all. I was nervous because I had already talked to a whole bunch of higher ups with the accent and decided to just go through with it -thinking it was only going to be a summer job. I was so wrong. It’s been like 7 months that I’ve been working there and I still use the accent to this day. When people ask me where I’m from I just tell them my hometown because I have several brits from that town whom I grew up with. The accent hasn’t really posed a problem until now cause my bf is friends with one of my coworkers so I’m gonna have to find the right time to come clean.. thanks for coming to my TedTalk.
UPDATE: finally told my boyfriend about the accent and he said, and I quote, “well babe, you just gotta fake it till you make it, and get the hell out of there!” I got a lucky one, y’all!
UPDATE: finally told my boyfriend about the accent and he said, and I quote, “well babe, you just gotta fake it till you make it, and get the hell out of there!” I got a lucky one, y’all!
9points
#18 Something Scared Me And My Brother Really Bad When We Were Younger And I’m Just Now Remembering The Details...
We were watching one of the Garfield movies (I can’t remember off the top of my head) and everything was well until the song “I feel good” by James Brown started playing in the movie. Now, you may ask, what could’ve scared you so bad from a song like that? Well I’ll tell you. In the beginning of the song James Brown does this sort of scream I guess you could say. Well me and my brother had no idea that it was a part of the song and we thought the scream had came from somewhere in our room. After hearing the scream we immediately ran to our parents room and told them we heard someone scream from inside our room, so my father jumps up and grabs a knife from the kitchen and walks into our room to find nothing in there. So now everyone in the house thinks there’s an intruder so we all go lock ourselves in my parents bedroom and call the police. Police show up and find nothing. I was watching the movie with my niece the other day and heard that familiar scream and realized that it was only the movie and we’d had the police called for no reason at all.
9points
People try many different ways to reveal their secrets, and researchers have found that the first way folks go about it is by preparing and rehearsing what they want to say. This kind of scripting might help them clarify what they want to say and build the confidence to finally open up.
Another option is to be direct and come out with the secret without hesitation, which can be hard for some folks. That’s why others ask partners, friends, or other third parties to help deliver the confession. If none of this works, the individual might reveal their secret in small bits and pieces.
#19 My Dad Passed Away This Morning
He was riding his motorcycle to work early this morning. At around 230am he crashed his bike, we're thinking he had a heart attack and that's what caused him to crash.
In high school, about 13 years ago, I had to do a paper for English class. The topic was "Write a paper on either a personal hero of yours, or something that influenced you growing up." and then present it to the class. I wrote my paper on my dad. I wrote about how much I loved him, how much he cared for me, his 15 years in the Army, and how he was raising me to be a successful adult. I probably spent more time on that than any other paper I did. I was proud of it, and happy I got to read it aloud.
Later that evening I mentioned the paper to my dad, told him we could do it on either a hero or something that influenced us. He asked what I did mine on. I was embarrassed so I told him I did it on a band.
The last 13 years I've regretted that. The last 13 years I've wanted to tell him what I did the paper on. Just two days ago it came across my mind again.
Dad. I wrote that paper on you. You're my hero, always were and always will be. I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much I loved you, and how much you meant to me. Thank you for always being there. I love you Dad.
In high school, about 13 years ago, I had to do a paper for English class. The topic was "Write a paper on either a personal hero of yours, or something that influenced you growing up." and then present it to the class. I wrote my paper on my dad. I wrote about how much I loved him, how much he cared for me, his 15 years in the Army, and how he was raising me to be a successful adult. I probably spent more time on that than any other paper I did. I was proud of it, and happy I got to read it aloud.
Later that evening I mentioned the paper to my dad, told him we could do it on either a hero or something that influenced us. He asked what I did mine on. I was embarrassed so I told him I did it on a band.
The last 13 years I've regretted that. The last 13 years I've wanted to tell him what I did the paper on. Just two days ago it came across my mind again.
Dad. I wrote that paper on you. You're my hero, always were and always will be. I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much I loved you, and how much you meant to me. Thank you for always being there. I love you Dad.
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8points
#20 I’m A Pastor Who Doesn’t Believe In God
Here I sit on another Sunday morning. I love the people I minister to. I believe that there are some really good principles in the Bible (and some really awful ones!) so I feel ok about the message of love and hope that I get to deliver. I push back against the hate and homophobia and judgmental nature of so much Contemporary American Christianity. But I don’t believe the underlying myth, and I have to pretend that I do. Overall, I believe I’m doing more good than harm, but there’s a dishonesty at the center of it that I have to try to ignore.
EDIT: A lot of great discussion here. A couple of clarifications:
I’m not economically dependent on ministry work. I work outside the church and do my ministry work on a voluntary basis. I used to get a (very) small stipend but gave it up a few years ago when I no longer needed it.
I wonder all the time whether I am lying, or just withholding (or whether that’s a [nonsense] distinction.) I strive only to say what I believe, but it’s a stretch. When I say God is Love, I really mean Love is God - the highest power. Certainly not Christian orthodoxy.
I try hard to teach only what I believe - Love, grace, care for others, etc. There are not many other forums where I could deliver that message in the same way. Not an excuse, just a fact.
I appreciate the concern of those who feel I’m defiling the faith. I disagree, but humbly. They may be right.
I would hate to hurt those who have trusted me.
Thanks for all the encouragement. Thanks for the honest criticism. Reading the comments here is a bit like living inside my brain.
To everyone: “... but the greatest of these is love.”
EDIT: A lot of great discussion here. A couple of clarifications:
I’m not economically dependent on ministry work. I work outside the church and do my ministry work on a voluntary basis. I used to get a (very) small stipend but gave it up a few years ago when I no longer needed it.
I wonder all the time whether I am lying, or just withholding (or whether that’s a [nonsense] distinction.) I strive only to say what I believe, but it’s a stretch. When I say God is Love, I really mean Love is God - the highest power. Certainly not Christian orthodoxy.
I try hard to teach only what I believe - Love, grace, care for others, etc. There are not many other forums where I could deliver that message in the same way. Not an excuse, just a fact.
I appreciate the concern of those who feel I’m defiling the faith. I disagree, but humbly. They may be right.
I would hate to hurt those who have trusted me.
Thanks for all the encouragement. Thanks for the honest criticism. Reading the comments here is a bit like living inside my brain.
To everyone: “... but the greatest of these is love.”
8points
