Top Stories
Stories in Confessions that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Winged Victory
I'll confess, I thought long and hard about whether I wanted to participate in this Challenge. I'm not much of a sharer of the deep, personal parts of myself. At least, not on the internet, where your digital footprint will follow you even after death. (Morbid, sorry, hang in there)
Brin J.Published 6 months ago in ConfessionsMy Barbie And I
When I was a child, Barbie fascinated me. I tenderly held the blonde-haired doll and admired her sleek, toned body. My tiny hands eased her into colorful pink day dresses, and even the occasional satiny evening gown. I combed her long, shining tresses, while I envied her wide, blue eyes enhanced by thick, painted eyelashes.
C C FarleyPublished 6 months ago in Confessions- Content Warning
Drowning In a Sea of Sin
I watched the world go by in a blur outside the taxi window, I knew that only I could save myself. There was no one else to catch me, hold me, help me. If I had a family to surround and support me, a good mum or mother-in-law, then one or other would have looked after my children, put me to bed and perhaps I wouldn’t have felt so alone and lost, needing to make such a huge decision. But my own mother was long dead, and my mother-in-law may as well have been for all the love and assistance I’d got from her. She had never, ever lifted a finger to show me any kindness, help, thought or gratitude for having given her four beautiful grandchildren – all of whom she totally ignored – and been a loving and supportive wife to their son.
Leeza CooperPublished 6 months ago in Confessions - Content Warning
The Delicate Art of Faking it
What do you do when your skin doesn't fit? You can't hang it up in the back of the closet or return it to the rack. There's no refunds or exchanges. You get one body. One vessel to experience life with. And when that vessel malfunctions over and over again, the wires get crossed. The pieces and the parts get warped, their once shiny edges rusting. The cogs get harder and harder to turn. And for a lot of other chronically ill people, there's a Before and an After. Who I was before I got 'sick.' Who I am now. Who am I now?
Sarah MarlerPublished 6 months ago in Confessions The Sum of My Parts
I’m going to tell you something in confidence. I mean, we know each other a bit now, right? We can be honest, yes? This will stay just between us?
Hannah MoorePublished 6 months ago in ConfessionsWhat My Therapist Doesn't Know
It's a freezing day in December, almost Christmas. My breath puffs out like clouds of cigarette smoke in the clear night air of the motel parking lot. At the moment, I wish it was cigarette smoke because I can't remember being this nervous in a very long time. Maybe the Christmas Eve service twenty years ago, when a pushy grandmother shoved her mini-skirted teen granddaughter up to the piano in our little Baptist Church and plopped an unfamiliar piece of music before me, stating, "Missy is going to sing. Play this."
Tina D'AngeloPublished 6 months ago in ConfessionsJust Cheryl-Nobody but Cheryl
The invisible game begins The first time I realized I was invisible to most people was at the age of 7. I had been playing with a cousin and another girl who lived nearby showed up. My cousin began to ignore me when I spoke and turned her back on me to play with this other girl. I walked home sad and confused because I did not understand what had just happened.
Cheryl E PrestonPublished 6 months ago in Confessions- Content Warning
I can't cry
There's a girl on the inside of my mind, who keeps fighting with me. Asking me questions I can't oblige, but I listen just to see.
AmberPublished 6 months ago in Confessions Low-level Ick That Turned Incredible
To be sure, some of our idiosyncrasies may be less than endearing, but when they turn out to be a benefit, try not to gloat.
The Dani WriterPublished 6 months ago in ConfessionsToo Black
I was pretty dark, even for a black kid, and the Texas sun I grew up playing in didn’t move me any closer to what the TV and the magazines said was beautiful. In elementary school, I was the constant subject of children’s jokes that began, “You’re so black that…”
Carl L LanePublished 6 months ago in ConfessionsIn Search of Reflection
I don't think we ever discover who we are. Identity is a never-ending book that continues to write new chapters as we experience life, and your story only ends when the pen is set down. When your story reaches a close, only you can describe everything. But there's no one word to sum up the life you lived and who you were. Others can title your story as they please and leave reviews, but you wrote every word of your story. So, on that last page, who do you think you'll be in your story? Did you become this person, or did you let this character you wanted to be, define where the story was headed?
Davlin KnightPublished 6 months ago in ConfessionsHospitals Do Not Care About Nurses and Why Nurses Don´t Quit
I read this quote the other day, and it hit home. There’s not a shortage of nurses; there’s a shortage of nurses who aren’t willing to put up with the bullshit any longer.
sara burdickPublished 7 months ago in Confessions