advice
Dating, married, single, divorced, and more. Advice on the relationships you have in life. Dear, Humans..
I Stopped Following Internet Trends - Here What Really Happened To Me
Let’s be real — the internet moves fast. One minute, everyone’s obsessed with a new productivity hack. The next, it’s AI-generated artwork, “day-in-my-life” vlogs, or some random sound trending on TikTok. It feels like if you blink, you’ve already missed the train. But I chose not to chase the trend. I decided to not follow the internet crowd. I thought I was protecting my creativity… until the consequences hit me hard.
By Awais Qarni about a year ago in Humans
How I Learned to Grieve Someone Still Alive
I never thought it was possible to mourn someone who's still alive - until my younger brother changed in ways I never imagined. Not through accident or disability, but through emotional disconnection, addiction and slow fading of the person I once knew.
By MelCreatesabout a year ago in Humans
Aries Woman and Virgo Man Compatibility Score. AI-Generated.
When the bold and adventurous Aries woman meets the calm and analytical Virgo man, sparks may fly—but whether they ignite a lasting flame or fizzle out depends on how well they can embrace each other’s differences. This pairing is often marked by contrasting energies, but if both partners are willing to compromise and learn from one another, a stable and stimulating relationship is possible.
By Inspire and Funabout a year ago in Humans
Why African Americans Should Use Sunscreen: Separating Myth from Science. AI-Generated.
Why Even Darker Skin Tones Need Daily Sun Protection For years, a widespread myth has persisted: that African Americans — or anyone with melanin-rich skin — don’t need sunscreen. The assumption is that darker skin acts as a natural shield from harmful sun exposure. But how accurate is this belief?
By Yoshaa Reviewsabout a year ago in Humans
"The Day I Almost Disappeared — But Didn’t"
By: Muhammad Arif --- I don’t remember the exact moment I gave up. Maybe it wasn’t a moment. Maybe it was a slow drowning. Quiet. Silent. Invisible. I used to wake up and feel something — even if it was just tiredness, hunger, worry. But one day I woke up and felt… nothing. The world outside my window looked the same. The fan kept spinning. The azan still echoed from the nearby masjid. But inside me, it was blank. People think depression is sadness. Crying. Screaming. But no — real depression is emptiness. It’s brushing your teeth and wondering why you’re even bothering. It’s hearing your phone ring and letting it die because you can’t talk to anyone. It’s being in a room full of people and feeling like a ghost. I stopped answering my friends. Stopped dressing properly. I told my mother I was tired, just tired — she asked if I was sick. I lied. I told her it would pass. But it didn’t pass. Every day became harder to get through. I stopped writing. I stopped dreaming. The boy who once wanted to open his own tailoring shop — he disappeared. All that remained was a body. Breathing. Blinking. Waiting. There was one night — a cold, heavy night — when I sat on the edge of my bed and thought, maybe I’m not meant for this world. That thought scared me. But what scared me more was… it didn’t feel shocking. It felt like an option. And then something small happened. Something so tiny, most people would laugh. My nephew — just five years old — knocked on my door. He walked in holding a crayon drawing. It was messy, colorful, full of scribbles. He pointed at one of the stick figures and said, “This is you, Chachu. You’re smiling.” I looked at that drawing. And for the first time in weeks, my eyes stung with tears. Smiling? I hadn’t smiled in days. Weeks. But in his little world, I was still someone who smiled. That small drawing cracked something inside me. The next morning, I took a shower. I wore clean clothes. I cut a few threads and stitched a piece of cloth. My hands moved slow — but they moved. I messaged one friend: “I’m okay, just been low. Pray for me.” Step by step, I came back. Not overnight. Not completely. But I came back. I started writing again. I wrote my first story on Vocal — about a tailor with big dreams. That story reminded me of who I was. Who I still am. Depression didn’t vanish. It’s still there, sometimes whispering in the dark corners of my room. But I’ve learned something: I’m stronger than I thought. And even when it feels like nobody sees me — someone does. A child. A friend. A stranger on the internet. If you're reading this and feel like you’re falling — I promise you, someone is still drawing you with a smile. Someone still believes in you, even when you don’t. And one day — even if slowly — you’ll come back too.I started writing again. I wrote my first story on Vocal — about a tailor with big dreams. That story reminded me of who I was. Who I still am. Depression didn’t vanish. It’s still there, sometimes whispering in the dark corners of my room. But I’ve learned something: I’m stronger than I thought. And even when it feels like nobody sees me — someone does. A child. A friend. A stranger on the internet. If you're reading this and feel like you’re falling — I promise you, someone is still drawing you with a smile. Someone still believes in you, even when you don’t. And one day — even if slowly — you’ll come back too.
By Muhammad Arif about a year ago in Humans
How Different Cultures Interpret and Embrace Spiritual Love
Spiritual love moves beyond the flowers, notes, and fleeting chemistry that often define romance. Rooted in mutual respect, profound understanding, and emotional harmony, it feels sacred and steady. Still, the way people recognize and practice this kind of love differs widely from one culture to the next. Traditions, stories, and small rituals in each setting colour the experience, showing how hearts everywhere long for a connection that reaches the soul.
By Stella Johnson Loveabout a year ago in Humans
