This short piece reflects on one's struggle to balance belief of want and need, and his inescapable lack of allowing his own capabilities. Possible TW

Love as a Form of Control: When the Bond Becomes a Shackle …REAL LOVE IS TRUST… ALLOWING THE PEOPLE WE CARE ABOUT TO BE THEIR TRUE SELVES, rather than discouraging or suppressing their authentic selves, is an act of faith and true love. It means you believe in them and their ability to navigate the world.

why I'm not dating in 2026. My first goal ever in this new year, I wanna know what others think. what are your goals?.

This year has been, maybe, the worst year of my life. Keep in mind, that’s a life that has involved bouts of homelessness, violence, extreme poverty, loss in ways I can’t really measure, but this year, fuck this year.

I have been in a number of relationships over the years, and I have fucked them up in some spectacular ways. One of the ways is fighting. There are two fights I haven’t let go of, that hit my brain at weird moments. I was wrong in both cases, but I feel guilt about one of them, and none about the other one.

This is harder to write than the bit about The Mess — for a few reasons. The first one is simply that she is still alive; she might read this (probably not, but who knows), or someone who knows her might read this, and I don’t want to cause her any problems. That means this won’t have my usual level of candour.

This starts at the beginning of my life and how quickly it went downhill, yes even at 5 years old I knew that I was doomed and how a bottle of cough syrup made my day go better without knowing exactly why.

Love and loss are a natural part of life; I've loved and watched as I lost that love. It never stops. Humans seek connection, whether that be friendship or romance. The loss of people and pets is inevitable, no matter how much we wish it weren't. No matter how they depart from your life still hurts, from no contact to death.

I am the mother to give children, had my last one in March last year. She started out sleeping through the night right out of the womb, but at 3 months old it all changed. Follow my journey from 10 months on as I try to keep my sanity after not getting more than a few hours of sleep at night for the past 7 months.

Have you had that one love of your life that you thought would change everything in all the best ways, only to have it turn into the biggest tragedy of your life? Me effing too.

Every familiar path leads me back to home but this one in particular is truly special to me as it is suspended in time. As I walk through these woods, I can feel the soft wooden paths under my bare feet, the birds chirping in the distance, and the trees whispering my name over and over again to walk deeper and deeper and suddenly I'm in a trance. As I walk through a clearing, a beautiful view of the mountains comes into my vision as I see a tall wooden house perched by itself. A steady flowing creek behind it. It's so quiet that I can hear the water's sweet lullaby. This house would crumble as the everlasting moments are the foundation. As I open the bright orange door, I see a special person who always reminds me to keep going and the ghost of someone else who I always feel as soon as I step in. It hurts but it is also deeply satisfying as it feels like they are never really gone.

Inside These Walls of Hell ​Inside these walls of hell sometimes it’s so hard to breathe. Inside these walls of hell are the darkest days my eyes have ever seen. Inside these walls of hell no one will ever feel my pain. Inside these walls of hell not a soul will see...

After settling in to our new home, it wasn't long till my mom caught wind her siblings were reaching out. After being split up in the system. One moved into our back yard. It was then my childhood seamed so bleek. Nothing happened other then he was told to leave. But therapy or taking care of my trauma never took place. My parents at the time we're dealing with the wrong problems and my step dad ended up going to rehab. My mom met a woman who is partner was also in the reman. One night I was asked to babysit for 6 year old son or aware that she had a 16 year old son until late at night. On the way home I'm asked why I was so quiet my reply I'm tired. Scared I get in trouble but then finding out that I did nothing wrong it was then I asked to go and see my dad in Nova Scotia. Understanding that he had to support the house he's never seemed to be able to find time off work. And his assumption that I had become active he put me on Depo. Into my sister came out suddenly work wasn't busy.🤬

Age 10 My Mom siblings an I lives in a decent town house three floors an kept in for the most part clean. We took turns cooking cleaning an once our chores were done our friends always lined up outside waiting for us to come out. Some memories I have around this age mom had a couple boyfriends. This one was someone who has still been in my life off an on. But I always remember the man with his short jean shorts a cast of his foot an a tank. My late brother's dad. (Brothers best friend). He used to roll his smokes. An some days when I'd rather sit at home I'd roll packs for him so he didn't have to. But they didn't last long it wasn't until my step dad who now I love very dearly was set up on a blind date with my mom. I guess it went so well we were told 2 weeks after they met we're moving into his house on North end of Edmonton. The commute back and forth from school and home was an hour each day. It wasn't long after that we moved back south. Now six kids two adults three bedroom bst.

A haunting romance about love spoken too late and the silence that changes everything. This story explores emotional vulnerability, timing, and the fragile space between holding on and letting go. Written to linger, not to explain—inviting readers to feel what’s left unsaid.

Ordinary love is easy to miss. In a world that celebrates grand gestures and loud declarations, this piece honors the quiet, steady acts of care — the ones that ground us, reassure us, and make love feel safe.

This is an essay that I wrote on my experience with sharing my traumatic experiences people and learning that not everyone who calls you a friend, isn't really a friend.

What Do I Wish People Knew About Me, Before Speaking To Me? This is just something random I wrote, it was prompted by how me and my friends are drifting apart and I feel like not many people actually know me. (Also first time posting, and NOT MY WRITING PROMPT IDEA, Creds to Wonderlandington from Pinterest)

about all those women who put on the show of bad ass bitch, and for some reason, you just get the feeling it's fake. This is about them

The Ghost in My Own Home: When the Man You Love is Replaced by a Stranger andi have no clue hw to fix whats going on or relize and move on