Friendship
The Stranger Who Called Me ‘Mom’
It was 6:48 PM on a Monday. The kind of tired where your bones feel like overcooked noodles. I was standing in line at the pharmacy, clutching a box of discount herbal sleep tea and a half-melted chocolate bar I’d convinced myself was self-care.
By Hamna Maalikabout a year ago in Confessions
Forgiveness is not Forgetting the Pain
The scent of brine and ozone filled Elara’s lungs, a familiar comfort that had been hers since childhood. She stood on the cliff edge, the North Sea churning below, its endless roar a constant reminder of both peace and turbulence. It had been twenty years since the accident, twenty years since the waves had stolen her brother, Liam, and left her with a scar that no passage of time, no amount of forgiveness, could truly erase.
By millyanneabout a year ago in Confessions
Chapter 1: The First Time I Saw Her
It was the first time I saw her—and from that very moment, I was captivated by her eyes. It happened during the height of the Covid-19 pandemic. The world was quiet, locked down, and everyone’s faces were hidden behind masks. I had just stepped into college life, and that day, I was at the registration office, queuing up to submit my documents.
By Benabout a year ago in Confessions
Being Needed Made Me Feel Worthy
There was a time when being needed felt like love. The more someone leaned on me, the more I felt like I mattered. If they called me in crisis, if they needed comfort, advice, support I was there. First in line. Always available. Always showing up. And with each time I was needed, something inside me whispered: See? You’re not invisible. You’re valuable. You’re loved. But I didn’t realize I was slowly trading pieces of myself to feel that way.
By Zanele Nyembeabout a year ago in Confessions
Word of the Day: Schadenfreude
Have you ever found yourself secretly smiling when someone else trips, makes an error, or experiences an inconvenience? Whether it was someone at work, in celebrity media coverage, or even someone close to you who got their own back? Unfortunately this feeling often unsaid is quite common, yet rarely spoken aloud. In German there's even a special word that perfectly captures it: Schadenfreude
By Robert Brownabout a year ago in Confessions
I Lied About My Age for 3 Years—And He Still Chose to Believe Me
I didn’t mean to lie, at first. It wasn’t premeditated. It was one of those little things that slip out and hang in the air longer than you expect them to. We were at a bar, I was with a friend, he was sitting alone, and we started talking. I was 29. I told him I was 25.
By Noman Khan about a year ago in Confessions
Why Did Yulissa Leave the Villa? ‘Love Island’ Star Exits After Racist Remarks Surface
After contestant Yulissa abruptly left the villa, the most recent season of Love Island was plagued by scandal. The fan-favorite islander's sudden departure startled fans, but it quickly became clear that her expulsion from the show was due to the resurfacing of racist sentiments from the past. The Unexpected Departure Yulissa, who had already established herself as a prominent figure in the villa, was observed developing close relationships with other islanders. She led the competition thanks to her charisma and self-assurance, so when she abruptly departed the show, many were perplexed. Producers initially said nothing more than that she had gone for "personal reasons." But soon enough, the truth came to light.
By Tanvir Shahariarabout a year ago in Confessions
From Shadows to Strength
Once upon a time, in a quiet town nestled between rolling hills and whispering forests, lived a young woman named Mira. For many moons, Mira’s world was clouded by a heavy fog — a deep sadness that wrapped around her like a thick, cold blanket. Each day felt like wading through a river of invisible weight, and her heart whispered that she was lost in a place with no clear path home. Mira’s days passed in silence and solitude. She struggled to find joy in the things she once loved — the blooming flowers by the window, the songs of morning birds, and the warm sunlight that kissed her skin. The mirror reflected a face she barely recognized, tired and distant. She felt stuck, overwhelmed by shadows that seemed endless. One chilly evening, as the stars began to sprinkle the sky, Mira sat quietly by her window. The night held a gentle calmness, and in that stillness, a small thought flickered in her mind: What if she could find a way to lift the fog, one step at a time? With a soft breath, she decided to try. Not to suddenly erase the heaviness, but simply to move, even if just a little. The next morning, Mira woke before the sun and stepped outside. The air was crisp and fresh, and the world around her was slowly waking up too. She took a slow walk through the neighborhood, feeling the earth beneath her feet and noticing the details she had long ignored — the way leaves danced with the breeze, the laughter of children playing, the smell of fresh bread from a nearby bakery. That small walk became her first act of discipline — a promise to herself that she would keep moving forward, even when it felt hard. Each day after, Mira built upon her promise. She began setting little goals: to write a single sentence in a journal, to drink a glass of water first thing in the morning, to stretch her arms toward the sky and breathe deeply. These acts were simple, but they were powerful. They were her way of planting seeds of hope in the soil of her heart. Slowly, Mira noticed changes. The fog didn’t disappear all at once, but the shadows began to soften. She felt stronger, not because her problems vanished, but because she had found a quiet strength within herself. Discipline became her light — not as a rigid rule, but as a caring guide that reminded her she mattered. There were days when the fog tried to creep back in. When sadness whispered doubts and tiredness pulled her down. But Mira learned to welcome those feelings, not as enemies, but as old friends she no longer feared. She reminded herself that healing wasn’t about perfection, but about kindness and patience. One afternoon, Mira sat beneath the old oak tree in the forest. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting warm patterns on the ground. She closed her eyes and smiled softly. She realized that her journey was more than just a battle with sadness — it was a discovery of resilience, courage, and the gentle power of self-love. From the shadows of her deepest struggles, Mira had walked into a new dawn. A dawn where discipline wasn’t punishment but a bridge to peace. Where every small step was a victory. Where healing was a journey, not a destination. And as the stars began to twinkle again that night, Mira whispered a thank you to herself — for the bravery to keep going, for the love to keep healing, and for the light she found inside her own heart. And with that, she drifted into a peaceful sleep, ready to greet tomorrow with hope.
By Rizwan about a year ago in Confessions
Friendship Breakups Hurt More Than Romantic Ones
“We used to talk every day—now we scroll past each other like strangers.” That line hit me like a freight train one evening as I journaled through another spiral of emotions. I had just stumbled across a photo of us from five years ago—laughing, arms looped around each other, no care in the world. My chest tightened. This wasn’t an ex-lover. This wasn’t someone who ghosted me after two dates. This was my best friend. My person. The one who once knew every corner of my heart. And she was gone.
By Muhammad Sabeelabout a year ago in Confessions
My Life Looked Perfect Until Tuesday
Everyone said my life looked perfect. And honestly… they weren’t wrong. At least, not on the surface. I had the kind of life people double-tap on Instagram without thinking. A cute apartment with matching throw pillows. A fiancé who brought me coffee in bed. A marketing job that paid me more than I deserved, and a dog who followed me around like I was his whole world.
By Asmatullah Afridiabout a year ago in Confessions
That One Night We Played "Who’s Most Likely To?" and Everything Changed
We were supposed to have a chill night. Just me, six friends, a few pizzas, some cheap wine, and a deck of “Who’s Most Likely To?” cards someone bought on impulse. “It’s harmless fun,” Jake said, cracking open a can of beer. “You just point fingers and laugh.” Famous last words. At first, it was innocent. Who’s most likely to become famous? Everyone pointed at Maya—she’s TikTok famous for her unhinged Starbucks order reviews. Who’s most likely to cry during a movie? That was clearly Darren. He sniffles during dog food commercials. But as the wine disappeared and the questions got weirder, things escalated. Fast. --- “Who’s most likely to hook up with their ex?” Every head turned toward me. I blinked. “What?” “I mean…” Maya grinned. “Didn’t someone text Lucas last weekend after that concert?” “That was not a hookup text,” I argued. “That was a ‘hey, I saw your favorite band and thought of you’ text.” “That’s what we call a ‘gateway text,’” Jake chimed in. Laughter. Then silence. Then, “So… did he answer?” I stared into my wine glass like it held the answer. “Yes. He said he missed me.” Now everyone leaned in. --- That’s when the confessions started. Like a broken dam, stories poured out. Tiny betrayals. Old hookups. Weird habits no one dared mention before. “Who’s most likely to secretly stalk their crush online?” Everyone pointed at Jess. She didn’t deny it. “I have spreadsheets,” she said, unapologetically. “Color-coded.” We nearly fell off the couch laughing. The game shifted from a silly icebreaker into something deeper, a kind of accidental therapy. It was like we all agreed—without saying it—that nothing said that night would leave that room. --- Then came that card. “Who’s most likely to fall in love with someone in this room?” The laughter stopped. Jake cleared his throat. “We skipping this one?” “Nope,” Maya grinned. “We’re answering. On three.” “One… two… three.” I pointed at Darren. So did Jess. But three hands—Jake’s, Darren’s, and Maya’s—all pointed at me. “What the—?” I looked around, shocked. Jake raised an eyebrow. “Come on. You didn’t know?” “Know what?” He shrugged. “It’s kinda obvious.” I felt the room tilt, the buzz from the wine sharpening. “Obvious how?” Darren jumped in, saving me. “Obvious that you’re lovable. That’s all he meant.” But the way Jake was looking at me said something else. And the way my heart reacted confirmed it. --- We tried to keep playing. But the questions felt heavier now. “Who’s most likely to get married first?” “Who’s most likely to move away and never tell anyone?” Each one felt like a dare, like the game was no longer about who we were—but about what we were hiding. --- At some point, Maya looked at the clock. “It’s 2 a.m. Do we… stop?” No one answered. The cards sat there like a trap. We were all thinking about things we couldn’t unsay. Jess started gathering plates. Darren helped. Jake grabbed his jacket. I walked him to the door, half out of habit, half out of curiosity. “Hey,” he said, pausing before he left. “Lucas isn’t the only one who misses you.” He said it like a whisper, but it hit like thunder. Then he was gone. --- The next morning, I woke up to three texts. From Maya: “Still can’t believe Jess has spreadsheets.” From Lucas: “Thinking of you again. Want to talk?” And from Jake: “No regrets about last night. Let’s hang out. Just us?” I stared at my phone for a long time. All because of a party game. A stupid, hilarious, unexpectedly revealing party game. “Who’s Most Likely To?” Turns out… it was me. Most likely to start the night laughing—and end it completely changed. ---
By Zeeshan Khanabout a year ago in Confessions
