How do you when a virgo woman likes you

Hey guys,
I know this is probably not the MOST fitting sub to make this post, but I do find it relevant because the choices I make will have a great impact on my future,
My father and I have not always had a good relationship. I don't want to sit here and yap about all the terrible things he's done to me but what really broke my trust was when he kicked me out of the house when I was in high school, and told my whole step family that I ran away from home.
He honestly feels like a sperm donor that I'll occasionally feel sorry for. My mom and I have a better relationship - even though she has also hurt me growing up, I feel safer with her and I've easily overcame my discrepancies with her than I did him. She also genuinely apologized for some things.
I keep my personal life and my life with him extremely seperate because he criticizes everything about my life choices, dreams and personality. Being away from him helped me heal and find my inner voice. I'm learning how to become strong, and independent spiritually without him.
I also look back at certain things I experienced with him, and he was waaaayyy too obsessed about weird shit like my virginity, body count, and Everytime I call him when I am in mental anguish he asks me about the guys I've slept with and he's convinced my mental health is terrible because "I'm catching demons" from the guys I sleep with. It's dehumanizing hearing him talk like that - and it makes 0 sense because I don't Believe in that schizo shit for one. I have an extensive family history of mental illness on my mom's side and his mother died of dementia after suffering years from unmedicated depression. I think all my problems are mostly genetic in combination to a traumatic childhood and having no sense of direction for so long.
I have done everything for myself, by myself. I was the one that taught me how to drive, I was the one that got me my license, I was the one that pushed myself to finish top of my class in highschool while he dawged me out for being "a disrespectful slut"
I look at the love and support that my cousin has that grew up without a father in her life and she is far from perfect, yet she has all the love, support and freedom she can ask for and she's wild and fun. She's also 21 and about to become engaged. I'm 23 and single and I feel like it's because my dad has always made me feel like "a body that men use" instead of a woman that can actually be loved. Sure, mentally it's made me stronger, but I am broken, hollow, and depressed and coming to terms with the fact that I am just not deserving of romantic love.
Hes draining - he's a stalker and he sucks the life out of me. I'm only dealing with him because I am written in his will, but I'm questioning if it's even worth it. I plan on leaving America anyways, and getting a remote job once I graduate school and hopefully, I'll be able to start my own business - but I'll be a fool to turn down a will/trust fund. Not to mention, the way the economy looks, the American dream of stability and peace is dead and unattainable UNLESS you inherit wealth or marry into it. There's no guarantee that my transition to living in a foreign country will go smooth or according to plan, and if I come back to America, I will be reconsumed by this rat race.
TLDR; as the title states - should I cut my father out of my life at the expense of being take out of a will/trust fund, or should I just hold my tongue until the day he dies and get the money?

Hi! So im a pgy-2 in Urology in France. To summarize my experience so far: Ive been a slave (like surely most of us feel), worked my ass off. I do 90-100h/week, somedays with 33h shifts. My department consists of 16 urologists. There are two women that were one of the first women to be residents there. One (my tutor) is two years older than the other. There was a woman in the middle of the two but the younger one "surpassed" her and I dont know what happened but the older one has told me that she convinced my boss to let her go else where. This woman works in another hospital and hates my department.
Also there has been drama even between these two ladies. When the older one got pregnant and came back to work, she began operating again and in a case the patient died because a Vessel lesion that she couldnt repair.the younger one said behind her back: see? "You cant Just stop working and come back because your skills would be off. Females surgeon have to be comited to their career and not have children.". She began telling her boss about the older one mistakes, printing in papers what the other wrote in consult and the boss would reprimand her. The older one (my tutor) got into depression. Because they need support from each other because they are the Best surgeon on the team they get along now. Also: all the urologists younger than the younger woman didnt prospere (they didnt let them do surgery...) and only do consults with an ocasional turb.
So, im starting to do more surgically (previously i was a floor, emergencies and ultrasound slave lol) and my tutor is súper positive and says that im very smart and she wants to progress in oncourology and is letting me (female) and an older male resident do a lot of procedures. When im with other attendings everything goes well (im not perfect, im starting, but they are normal People and understand and support me). This younger female attending however is súper pissed when im with her in the op room and Ive seen that she blames the helping resident for her mistakes like: YOY PERFORED THE RECTUM BECAUSE YOU ARE HARSH (she perfored it herself... That was with another resident).
Today i had a robotic prostatectomy with her and similar things happened, she couldnt stop screaming the entire surgery and when it finished she went to my tutor and badmouthed me (my tutor told me she remembered her of mistakes ive done and told her i didnt listen to her during the procedure). I did listen to her the whole time and followed her instructions. My boss (which previously had been amazing with me) now looks and speaks at me badly. He has given me harsh quarrels the last weeks about cases and im sure she has told him. In one of these cases i said that patient is very aggresive when he comes to the clínic and she said That patient has told me a doctor treated him badly...... With a smug face. I told her did he mean me? And she nodded smugly...
How do you handle work place toxicity that tries to belittle/destroy you? Im scared of badmouthing and rumors. Im keeping a low profile but even so she doesnt stop..
Ps: i was so scared during the prostatectomy because i thought how she was blaming everything on me (she ripped the urethral and said it was me) that if some serious complication arised (dead, rectum lesion ...) that she would blame it on me and I would be destroyed forever...
I love my speciality but im currently thinking of finishing residency how i can and switch hospital because i dont think i could work with this person.

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
Having said his piece, Rene had expected the woman to accept her role as a prisoner of the Fleet. But no sooner had he taken his knee of her back than she was at him again, rolling over and cursing as she tried to spit him on her claws. Training kicked in and Rene applied the wrestling component of his hand-to-hand combat course. He secured underhooks with his arms, locking them together with his hands and hugging her tight from behind. Zildiz bucked and twisted around in a futile attempt to make room for her blades, even managing to get one of her knees beneath her and push off the ground. Rene allowed her to gain her feet, cunningly using the opening to slip the loop of his encircling arms around her waist. Now in complete control of her center of gravity, Rene swung his leg out and arched his back, heaving her up and over like a sack of turnips in a textbook suplex. A fraction of a second before he smashed the top of her skull into the hard ground, he remembered that he was supposed to keep prisoners alive and preferably not in a vegetative state, and so he cushioned the fall with his own body, falling on his side to increase surface area and dissipate the force.
Zildiz was caught totally by surprise. Unlike Rene she had neglected to tuck in her chin before the moment of impact, a vital detail which was one of the first things a recruit was taught to do on the mats.
“Oof!” she said as all the breath slammed out of her by the throw. Rene felt her body go limp as her dazed senses tried to adjust to the violent change of orientation. He took advantage of this moment of weakness and looped his legs around her body, locking his ankles together to form a full body triangle. His left forearm punched up and took her neck in a rear naked choke, a suffocating vise formed by the insides of his elbow crushing her windpipe and carotid arteries.
“I warned you,” he told her. His choking hand grabbed the inside of his other elbow, right forearm sneaking behind her neck and under his armpit, tightening the garrote even further.
“Had enough?”
“Hrrnnkk…” Zildiz choked. She lifted an arm and slid back the blade until it was the length of a finger, deliberately giving Rene the universal gesture to go and fornicate with himself, before sheathing the claw entirely and aiming her fist at him over her shoulder.
Rene ducked as the blade shot out again, only just avoiding it going through his eye socket and into his brain. As it was, it only nicked his temple, sending warm lines of blood trickling down his visor. Rene hugged her even tighter, constricting the chokehold until he heard her breathing reduced to an agonized wheeze. He throttled her until she stopped moving, her struggles weakening until she went completely lax. Then he held the choke for exactly three seconds longer, counting carefully to avoid giving her lasting brain damage. He let go and was relieved to hear her snoring faintly. Gently rolling her onto her back so she didn’t suffocate in the dirt, Rene cast about for a means to secure his prisoner. He had only a few seconds before she regained consciousness. Quickly he cut some vines from the surrounding trees and knotted them into a crude rope. He flipped her back over again and tied her hands at the wrists and elbows. He had no illusions that it would hold her for long. He tied her wings together at their bases for good measure. She had two sets of them, but the larger pair was missing one of its partners that had been torn off at the socket to reveal a gaping wound. They were wondrously tough membranes considering how thin and flexible they were, as sturdy as ultrapod leather. Rene looked over his work and loosened it a bit so as not to cut off the circulation in her arms. It wasn’t bad for something done on the fly. Then again, he’d been playing this whole thing by ear ever since the ambush that had cut his unit to pieces. Ye gods, but that whole experience felt like a lifetime ago. He had not expected to ever use that component of his hand-to-hand training designed for fighting human opponents. Of course, he’d helped put down a fair share of civil unrest in his time, but even during the worst of the food riots in Mound Ulysses he’d never so much as given a person a light shove. The civilians knew better than to antagonize a battalion of the Fleet’s finest over something as routine and reoccurring as a government rationing in the face of crop failure.
He felt quite bad about having to roughhouse the woman, that is, until she sat up awake and glowered hatefully at him, coughing and retching.
“Don’t,” he pleaded with her in exasperation as she gave him the old stink eye, “I don’t want to fight you again.”
“Why?” she spat defiantly, “Afraid you’d lose?”
“Uh huh,” Rene grunted, amused and even a little impressed by her spunk. She couldn’t have weighed more than sixty kilos soaking wet and was at least half a foot shorter than him even with that exomorph of hers, but this woman was all fight and no quit. She would have to be, living on the surface world and facing these abominations day after day. Rene looked at the dismembered corpses of the black-furred devils and had a sudden jolt of inspiration. As Zildiz tested the strength of her restraints Rene went over to the monster he had chopped to bits and poked the misshapen hump on its back, which had excreted thick ribbons of silk at the moment of death. Feeling more than a little squeamish, Rene pulled on the threads of silk. He had only meant to collect two or three meters of the material, but more and more of the stuff kept unwinding out its glands like a handkerchief from a magician’s pocket. Eventually his hands became enmeshed in the horrid stuff and he had to struggle like the dickens to unstick himself and scrape it off onto a bush where it stuck like a lumpy hammock. Remembering how his enemy had plugged the stab wound in its gut, Rene snapped off a twig and curled it into the white mess like those vendors at the fairs did with candy cloud treats, ending up with a spool of silk. He applied it to the cut on his temple by winding it around his head like a bandage, and was gratified when it stopped the bleeding almost immediately. He heard the rustle of dead leaves and turned around to find Zildiz furtively attempting to sidle away from him.
“Don’t even try it,” he told her, “Or I’ll run you down and knock you senseless. I’m taking you back to civilization. The Fleet needs to know what it’s up against out here, and you’re a veritable trove of information.”
Zildiz squatted back down and stared at him, simmering with resentment. Rene shook his head and continued his work, moving on to the monster that had been the first to die at the woman’s hands. Cutting open its hump, Rene was rewarded with a dense lump of thread still packed inside its spinneret. He took another twig and spooled it in, then wrapped the bundle of silk in a large leaf.
A leg twitched of its own accord. Rene nearly dropped the bundle as he sprang back, sword upraised. The devil’s limbs began doing a tap dance and Rene relaxed a bit, recognizing it as the onset of rigor mortis. The side of its face was split open and hanging loosely by a strap of flesh. Struck by a nagging suspicion, Rene stooped down and peeled off the segments of its head, holding the edge of his sword against its neck to decapitate it in the event that it proved too lively for his liking.
The musculature and armor tore away just like it had with Zildiz’s helm, and for the second time that night he found himself staring into the face of another living human being. Only this time it was a man whose face was utterly disfigured, a perversion of the basic form. In the place of his lower jaw were fingerlike protrusions of gummy tissue and exposed nerve endings. His nose cartilage was likewise missing, leaving only a pair of holes dribbling with snot. The man blinked, and glassy eyes with almost no whites at their edges fixed Rene in their gaze.
“Kill…me…” the man whispered.
Rene began to shake uncontrollably, wiping a trembling hand across his mouth as he was forced to consider the carnage he’d just wrought in a new and horrifying light. These weren’t three dead monsters littering the jungle floor; these were three dead men, and some of them he had killed himself.
“Kill me!” the man begged him. He was young, barely Rene’s age, his smooth skin untroubled by the wrinkles of age and worry. He had clear brown pupils and dark, expressive brows. If it weren’t for all the rest of him, Rene might’ve mistaken him for a fresh-faced recruit at the academy, or a paperboy climbing up the terraced apartments of inner hive to deliver news of the Fleet’s latest victory.
On unsteady legs Rene staggered back to Zildiz’s side and away from the awful truth he had uncovered.
“Something the matter?” Zildiz asked in a gleeful tone, “Feeling a little worse for wear, are we?”
“Shut it,” Rene said distantly. He dragged Zildiz to her feet and began winding the silk around her wrists, layering them over thick and tying them off with a simple knot. He kept the vines on her for added insurance and told her to start walking.
“Where to?” she demanded.
“I’m not feeding you to my children, if that’s what you’re asking,” he muttered, “I don’t have any to begin with, and even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t raise them to be cannibals.”
Zildiz didn’t move, so Rene grabbed her and frog marched her away. He had no real destination in mind—he just had to get away from this place and the bodies he’d made. Zildiz rounded on Rene, saying:
“Aren’t you going to deal with him? I only severed his neural connection to paralyze his exomorph. He’s still very much alive.”
“No!” Rene yelled, “That’s not how I—how people do things. Almighty ancestors, is that so hard for you to grasp?”
“Yes,” Zildiz replied quite candidly.
“He’s a living, breathing human being. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but those are pretty rare on Arachnea and worth keeping around.”
“No. He is a Leaper. After extracting your gilt helix, he and his packmates would devoured you right then and there.”
“That’s why you saved me, isn’t it? So they couldn’t obtain this shiny helix thing?”
Zildiz ignored his question, continuing:
“If you leave him here, at best he will die of exposure. At worst, his tribe will come looking for him, and if they find him, they will run us down and kill us anyway.”
Rene bit his lip. She spoke the truth and they both knew it. But after all this world had already taken from him, there remained one thing which he refused to part with. And Rene knew that if he gave in now and took the expedient option—the sensible option—he would be surrendering it forever.
“Sorry,” he said finally, “That’s against the rules.”
He dragged Zildiz over to the Leaper and spoke to him, saying:
“I won’t kill you. I’m not about to eat you either, so you can stop begging for a quick death. As long as you tell me what I want to know, we’ll leave you here and go our separate ways. I might even patch your wounds if you’re cooperative. Does that strike you as a fair bargain?”
The Leaper met this pronouncement with a look of utter perplexity that mirrored the one on Zildiz’s face.
“I’ll take that silence as a yes,” Rene said impatiently, “You’ll begin by telling me your name.”
“Kryptusshh,” the Leaper said slowly, as if not daring to hope.
“Very good. Are there any more of your people out there, Kryptus?”
“Why sshhould I trusht you? I would only be dooming more of my kindred, and there issh no certainty you would not kill me afterwardssh.”
“It’s a chance you have to take,” Rene shrugged, “Either that, or I’ll let this woman do as she pleases with you. And just between you and me,” he said in a loud stage whisper, “She doesn’t seem all that fond of your sort.”
Zildiz and Kryptus locked eyes with each other. Rene could almost feel the waves of hatred coming off her as she bristled, every tendon in her body tensing expectantly. Kryptus must have seen something he didn’t like, for he looked away and said:
“I am a warrior of the Weeping Vipersh. We are roughly eleven hundred sshtrong. One tenth of that number are bravesshh like me.”
“He lies,” Zildiz said, baring her teeth in a snarl, “That is less than half their true strength. He does not count the adolescents and the old loom-mothers, who are the deadliest of their kind.”
“Three hundred, then, if they are consshidered,” Kryptman quickly admitted, “Your pardon, merciful one.”
“I’ll excuse your forgetfulness just this once,” Rene warned, “But your memory better not fail you again.”
He questioned the Leaper closely. Kryptus claimed that only he and his pack had seen the safety pod’s crash landing, and that they had told no one else as they wished to claim the great prize all for themselves. The Weeping Vipers were the largest tribe in the rainforest and were always looking for an advantage over their numerous and belligerent neighbors. Apparently Kryptus had hoped to gain a modicum of the Divine Engine’s power by extracting something called a ‘gilt helix’ from Rene’s blood.
“Jussht one sample would have shatishfied uss,” Kryptus swore, “Then we would have taken you back to the Loom alive.”
“I’m sure nothing would’ve pleased you better,” Rene said wryly, all too cognizant of Zildiz’s earlier assumption that he planned to feed her to the Fleet’s youth.
Rene learned from Kryptus that the Divine Engine had ignited a blazing wildfire that was swiftly spreading north and west. The tribes would likely have noticed it by now, and would all be sending braves in a joint effort to douse the flames. For some reason all the Leapers felt collectively responsible for the wellbeing of the region, and could not allow it to come to harm for fear of dire repercussions.
“Last question. Is anyone going to come looking for you?”
“Not till the morning.”
“Good!” said Zildiz, breaking out of Rene’s grip and aiming a vicious kick at the side of the Leaper’s head. Rene barely caught her and yanked her back, shouting:
“Blood and thunder, woman! Is there nothing you won’t do to piss me off?”
“Are you insane? You cannot possibly mean to leave him alive!” the Gallivant hissed.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Now come here!”
Rene took her by the elbow and pulled her forward, leaving Kryptus where he lay.
“You promished you would tend to my woundssh!” the Leaper cried after them.
“Don’t push your luck!” Rene said over his shoulder, “Anyone who follows us will meet the same end as your friends.”
He and his prisoner went tramping off into the night, Zildiz raging at him all the while.
“Fool! We will both come to regret that decision!”
“You’re probably right,” Rene had to agree.
“Then why did you do it?”
“For the same reason I’m letting you strut around and screech into my ear. What can I say? I’m a conversationalist.”
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

I am not the OOP. The OOP is u/ThrowRASadsadboon posting in relationship_advice
Concluded as per OOP
1 update - Medium
Original - 17th February 2024
Update - 23rd February 2024
Previous BORU is here
1 New Update
Update 2 - 15th May 2024
​
I (29M) lost my wife three years ago. Started dating again, and new girlfriend (32F) wants to visit my wife's grave.
​
I am one of many who lost someone in that damn 2020. She was my world and we had our future all set up, she wanted children too by 2021, and then she was gone.
I felt I had lost all sense of purpose and after an agonizing year, moved away - not too far, but not close either. I didn't feel like I could breathe in that town. Still, every Saturday I get back and visit her resting place.
I just functioned for about two years - I am not depressed or anything like that, but I just functioned. Until I met who we will call Ada last year.
We started talking and hanging out together. She can be a bit haughty with people she doesn't know well but I was surprised to find out how sweet and kind she is under the ice. She gave me something to look forward to again. She likes to do most of the talking herself, which is fine with me because I never know what to say.
She knows everything about my wife, and this didn't discourage her. She knows I am doing therapy and still mourning, but she never left me alone. I asked her to tell me if anything I do or say makes her feel uncomfortable or like she's not a priority - she said that as of now I am doing nothing of the sort. She knows what I do every Saturday morning, and never objected to it. But today she said she would like to "meet her", as in accompany me in visiting her grave.
I feel conflicted about this. On one hand I respect and feel touched by her wish, on other it feels... weird, for a guy to take the new girlfriend where the first wife is buried. How should I approach this? Is it too soon, should I ask her to wait for that?
TL;DR I am a widower who started dating. Girlfriend wants to visit my wife's grave and I have conflicting feelings about it.
​
Comments
​
jiddlyjidson
Waiting is fine if you are not ready. It feels like she wants to support you in something that was (and am sure still is) pretty traumatic. Joining you to visit isn’t about meeting your wife, it’s about being with you whilst you are still grieving/recovering.
​
Inner-Pianist-7628
Came here to say this last part. She genuinely wants to be apart of your life and support you bro. This is actually kind of beautiful. On the flip note it’s totally understandable that you might not be ready though.

OOP: Thank you. I admit that one of my biggest concerns is that I don't want to take advantage of her goodwill, even unintentionally. Her kindness and patience are near infinite, but I told her I don't want our relationship to be all about this, it would not be fair for her. She reassured me she doesn't feel taken advantage of and that I do a lot to make her feel loved and appreciated for who she is, but at the same she recognizes this is a part of me she's willing to accept to be with me.
To clarify, I don't do anything dramatic like talking to her grave or crying my eyes out when I visit. I just keep it clean, water the flowers and replace the dead ones, check the wear and tear on the stone, and clean the glass with her picture.

​
Update - 6 days later
​
Some additional info and an update.
Some redditors and some people around us were worried that my relationship with Ada is just a rebound. I admit is something that I too was worried about, and Ada told me she didn't have long lasting expectations at first.
We began dating in April 2023, but as things progressed and she saw my intentions are serious and I'm committed, her doubts about me were gone. She says we are made of the same stuff - we are two loyal, committed and hardworking people and she wants a future with me. And so do I. We are looking for a new place to share and I'm looking for the ring to make my proposal.
I admit that one of my biggest concerns is that I don't want to take advantage of her goodwill, even unintentionally. Her kindness and patience are near infinite, but I told her I don't want our relationship to be all about my past, it would not be fair for her. She reassured me she doesn't feel taken advantage of and that I do a lot to make her feel loved and appreciated for who she is, but at the same she recognizes this is a part of me she's willing to accept to be with me.
To my surprise, everyone approves of us - my parents, Ada's parents, and my late wife's mother. We never got any backlash.
​
On the update. I talked about this with my therapist. She feels that based on what she knows about Ada and the way she always behaved about this, that bringing her to my wife's grave will probably be a positive thing. So I told Ada that if she feels like it, I'd be glad to take her with me this Saturday. She was happy to hear this, she usually works on Saturday mornings, but said she'd take the morning off for me.
However I had unexpected things come up for tomorrow - I have to cover for a sick coworker, which means I'll be taken all morning and great part of the afternoon. It happens, and when it happens I either go on Friday or Sunday. I decided to go this afternoon (we are in Europe, it's evening here) and asked Ada if she wanted to come along - and she readily agreed.
We didn't talk much during the drive. When we arrived, we made our way to my wife's tombstone and I just said "Well, here she is". I fetched the water for the flowers and start my usual routine, Ada just crouched as if to examine it. Then she just helped me with the caretaking routine, removing the dead leaves and flowers, and cleaning the picture and the light. We then took a walk around the cemetery (might sound weird, but it's not unusual here as many cemeteries double as parks here) then sat outside for a smoke before the drive back.
We talked a bit, and Ada, who's quite the stoic, got a little emotional. She was happy I had let her in on such what for me is a particularly intimate and sacred place, but also shaken because after all the talking we had done of my late wife she subconsciously thought of her as someone she'd want to meet and be friends with, but seeing the grave reminded and cemented the fact that this amazing woman is gone. It was a bit of shaking for me too seeing her tearing up, since she's the most stoic woman I've ever met, but also made me think how this woman is a rare gem.
I don't doubt that in different circumstances, my late wife and Ada would have been great friends. And I'm a very lucky guy for finding not one, but two amazing woman which gave and still give my life meaning every day.
TL;DR I brought my girlfriend to my late wife's grave, and things went well.
​
Comments
​
TBagger1234
I’ve read so many posts here about people who have lost their partner and their new partner wants them to remove all memory of them as if they aren’t an important part of your life story. Ada is a good one. All the best OP!

OOP: Yeah, I read some of those posts too. Stuff of nightmares.

​
grandmasvilla
You are blessed to meet someone like Ada who is kind and understanding. Show your appreciation for her with your love and make her happy for the rest of your life. All the best.

OOP: Naturally, my friend. Making her happy and smile every day is my top priority. She gave me another chance at life.

​
Update 2 - 3 months later
​
Hello, I hope everyone here is well.
For a couple of months I had forgotten about this account, but I gave it a look the other day and read again all the beautiful comments and some very touching private messages. Again, thank you all for your interest and kindness.
Ada and I are doing well and we have found a place to move in together. If all goes well we'll be living together by July. Last month was the fourth anniversary of my late wife's passing. Ada was with me and held my hand.
I was a bit depressed like I am always am on our anniversaries, but Ada made it better. Sometimes I dream about my late wife, her coming back home, but either she never talks or I never remember what she says. However, when I dreamed her that night, in the dream there was Ada as well and they met each other. She was very happy about us and told me she's happy Ada is there for me when she can't.
I talked with Ada about the dream, and we agreed it's my brain telling me it's okay to move on. I'll always love, honor and cherish my late wife, but now there is Ada who is giving me so much and deserves to be happy, to be loved and honored the way she deserves. And I don't intend to disappoint her.
As an aside, Ada also said that who knows, it could also be the spirit of my late wife visiting me in the only place she can, my dreams. She says we can see like that if we take the spiritual approach. Honestly I wouldn't know, death is one of those mysteries only those who passed have discovered, and they can't tell us.
We are doing well. We have also managed to program our first true vacation together and I was proud to formally introduce Ada as my partner when my company's CEO invited me to dinner with her husband.
It's an exciting new journey and we are thrilled to see where it will lead us. We are a team and we have a game plan.
TL;dr Things are good.
​
Comments
BigIronBruce

I talked with Ada about the dream, and we agreed it's my brain telling me it's okay to move on

This is very sweet but I want to caution you that grief is complicated and recovery does not always happen in a straight line. You might sometimes have really complicated feelings of betrayal or heartbreak in the future and that's normal.
It's ok to move on, I'm sure your wife would want that but be careful of interpreting dreams.
​
mak_zaddy
I love a great Reddit update. A true palate cleanser.
​
I am not the OOP. Please do not harass the OOP.

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
The Colonel’s tent was leaking again. Ordinarily such a mistake would’ve earned his adjutant an hour-long dressing down and possibly, if the Colonel was feeling particularly enthusiastic, a sharp backhanded slap across the face. After all, a leaky tent could hardly be said to be hermetically sealed, now could it? But this affront to his sensibilities paled in comparison to the utter travesty and exemplar of sheer incompetence that now sat before his desk, a sagging wreck of a man in the tattered uniform of a Fleet officer. Colonel Moch Leelan curled his lip at it and barked:
“Once more, if you please. And I don’t want this on record,” he added, darting a look at the clerk poised to take dictation in the corner of the room, “Not a word of this gets out. There’s been enough of a snafu already, and the brass won’t stop shitting down my neck about Mound 13 and the loss of Prota’s pestilential pet project. Did you hear me, man? I said start from the beginning!”
Outside the monsoon was intensifying into one of those proverbial downpours which prompted doddering old men to remark that it was ‘raining cats and dogs’, though what either a cat or a dog were, none could now say. A trickle of it seeped in like a string of winking glass beads, catching the orange glow of the gas lamp and turning into sparks of amber, into seeds of flame. They dripped on the bald man seated on the low footstool, and he raised his head to meet the scornful gaze of the Colonel, grey eyes unabashed and unafraid. He spoke then, in a hoarse voice that matched his pallid flesh and buzzard nose:
“It was the third day of reconnaissance. We were forced to abandon our pack-beasts in the mire. My assistant and I—”
“Name, rank and serial number!” Colonel Leelan interrupted, for the sole purpose of seeing the coward blink and quaver like the worm he was. But in that he was to be disappointed, for the man continued in the same flat tone:
“Sollem Deschane, Lord Navigator, 3^rd Pathfinder Regiment, serial number 18911944. We received orders from the Admiralty and Fleet Command to reconnoiter the area around the enemy concentration designated as Mound Euler. I was to lead a platoon of twenty handpicked volunteers across the river Foss at its lowest point, then scale the outlying cliffs to get better readings as we mapped out the approaches to Mound Euler. It was the third day of reconnaissance. We were forced to abandon our myropods in the mud and carry our own gear. My assistant navigator Rene Louvoture and I noticed a discrepancy with our visually confirmed data and the aerial sketches of the Aeronautical Division. We quickly worked out that the enemy concentration far exceeded initial estimates by an order of magnitude. Mound Euler is an omega-class colony the likes of which the Fleet has faced only once in its entire existence, during the Scouring of Assail. It is my belief that—”
“Leave your hysterics for later and get on to meat of things,” Leelan snapped. Deschane straightened a bit in his seat and scowled as his layers of bandages shifted. The man was practically mummified by the sheer extent of his wounds that it was a wonder he had managed to limp into the tent in the first place. But the navigator had made a point of refusing to be debriefed in his sick bed and had insisted that he be given no further pain killers. This was to prove that his report was not at all influenced by the effects of opiates, as well as to underline the supposed importance of his eyewitness account as the sole survivor of the siege of Mound 13.
But Colonel Leelan was no fool. He knew the tactic for what it was: a bit of playacting by a soon-to-be-disgraced officer, a desperate attempt to pass himself off as a tragic hero rather than the author of the most monumental military cock-up of the decade.
You may very well get that wish, Deschane, Leelan smirked inwardly. If you play your cards right. You’ll find that I can put on a pantomime as well as the next man.
Deschane regarded him cooly, replying:
“You asked for my report, sir. I am stating the facts as I understand them.”
“Understand?” Leelan guffawed, “There’s precious little to understand about this debacle! Explain to me how a routine scouting mission winds up in the loss of 5,000 men, a Rear-Admiral and an entire frontline outpost! Explain to me how you not only got every last one of your own men slaughtered, but still managed to save your own sorry arse!”
Now that had an effect on the navigator’s bearing. He dropped the holier-than-thou attitude and even pretended to dab at some moisture in corners of his eye. For a moment his mask of iron cracked and he looked tired enough to sleep for a thousand years, never to waken. Then he seemed to recall that his career was at stake and had the temerity to argue with the Colonel:
“We were given faulty intelligence. I made mistakes, I’ll admit that here and now. We should never have continued after our pack animals were trapped in the mire. The gear slowed us down in enemy territory. I can’t wash my hands of the loss of my platoon. They were the best and bravest men I ever fought with, and I will carry the shame of losing them to my grave. The fact that I am still alive when none of them are breathing is an accident that was not of my choosing. As for Mound 13, it was only a matter of time before they were discovered and dealt with. They were only two day’s travel from Mound Euler. In fact, it was miracle they managed to exist for so long undetected.”
Magnificent deflection. Colonel Leelan had to admire the snake and his flawless attempt to pass the blame onto the shoulders of the dead Rear-Admiral Prota.
Yes, I think we can make an arrangement here, the Colonel thought wryly. He waved Deschane’s prattling aside and said:
“This omega-class colony of yours. A mound so large that is beggars belief, you say? Curious, then, that such an object should have escaped your keen senses for three whole days!”
“Visibility in that terrain and climate is poor. But yes, it was another one of my errors.”
“I’m so glad that you agree,” Leelan purred, his words dripping with condescension. He reached into the drawer of his desk and took out a bottle of fermented honeydew. Uncorking it with a loud pop, he poured out two glasses and lifted one to his lips, saying:
“On a related note, it’s funny how the fog of war can obscure so many important details. Even the best commanders can lose their bearings, lose sight of the greater picture, fixate on the wrong things. Take our dearly departed Rear-Admiral Prota, for example (may she rest in the Flight Eternal). Not to speak ill of the dead, but she was assigned an entire sector for her research into enemy behavior. And what does she do with it? Cultural studies! Anthropology! As if the Amits have a culture worth sneezing at! They’ve been working with flint and wood since this primeval war of ours began, and they’ve never taken the hint. Meanwhile, we’ve finally gained the advantage of powder and artillery and mass-produceable gas masks.”
“One big push! That’s all it would take to clear the northern highlands. We have the men, the will and the technology to do it! The last thing we need is some starry-eyed academic telling us that the Amits have somehow found religion. I mean, really!” Colonel Leelan warmed to his subject, “Five thousand soldiers dedicated to safeguarding some blessed cave paintings, right on the frontlines, too! What a waste. Like you said: if you hadn’t led the Amits directly to them, someone else would have down the line.”
“We took steps to ensure they wouldn’t follow us. We tried, but they found the fear-death pheromones—”
“Steps?” Leelan pressed him mercilessly, “What steps, exactly?”
Deschane looked away and said nothing. Leelan sniffed, continuing:
“I thought so. As I was saying, Prota’s project was doomed from the start. It was an ill-conceived, harebrained mission, and now the Admiralty will have to explain to Fleet Command and the general public how it lost an entire regiment in the name of some woman’s flight of fancy. But there is a silver lining to all this. Seeing as how we recaptured what was left of Mound 13 within mere hours of it falling, we think there’s a way to salvage the situation after all. You can be part of that, Deschane. Every victory may have its price, but it must also have its heroes.”
Leelan sipped his honeydew, waiting for the offer he’d made to sink in. Deschane smiled, a humorless crack in his granite features.
“You’re going to make me a hero?” he asked. Leelan nudged the other glass towards him, shrugging:
“And why not? Someone has to wear the medals. ‘Lone Survivor of Desperate Last Stand’,” Leelan exclaimed, dramatically forecasting the future headlines, “He tried to warn them, but did they listen? You get the rest, I imagine. We’ll have to improve some of the details, of course. Like how it was the 3^rd Pathfinder Regiment which held back the flood of Amits in the final hour and ignited the fortress’ ammo depot—”
“We never did that,” Deschane objected, rudely cutting off Leelan’s train of thought, “It was the Divine Engine. I saw it with my own eyes. It broke out of Mound 13 and slaughtered the enemy.”
Leelan sighed.
“Not this again. Deschane, I’d appreciate it if you’d save your hallucinations for the regimental shrink. Think, man! The honor of our unit is at stake here. You have a chance to redeem the men of your platoon, even if you can never truly redeem yourself.”
“I saw it,” Deschane growled, and for a moment Leelan almost reached for his ceremonial saber hanging by its belt on his coatrack, “Sir, it left footprints the size of—”
“For heaven’s sake, you witless worm, the earthquake was felt all the way in the Southern Delta! Not very big one, but certainly enough to account for the avalanches and landslides that took place around Mound 13, not to mention the sinkhole we found you snoring in! It’s certainly not the first time an uncontrolled detonation triggered a seismic event. Deschane, I’ll only say this once: either you get your story straight or by thunder, I’ll bury you so deep in shit you’ll start to think you’re made of it! And you are! If you breathe a word of this delirious vision of yours to the press, you’ll not only receive no medals, but I’ll have you court-martialed faster than you can say ‘diddly-squat’. Which is precisely what you’ll be left with unless you jump like a good boy and ask how high. No honor, no rank, no reputation, no pension. Nothing! Do you understand?”
Colonel Leelan wrathfully thrust the glass at Deschane, spilling most of it in the process.
“Well, do you?”


Deschane hobbled out of the tent, escorted by a pair of grenadiers in fluffy white shakos. They sealed the adhesive lining of the tent airlock after him and the Navigator went on his way, the taste of honeydew lingering on his tongue like a bitter poison. He lifted his mask and hawked up a gob of spit that eloquently described his opinion of the colonel, wiping his scowling mouth with the back of his hand.
Ven was waiting for him with the crutches, a young and rather portly corporal with apple cheeks and a worried, pouting mouth. She helped Deschane as he made the slow and painful walk across the encampment to his field tent, the lord navigator deep in thought. Along the way they cut across the central avenue of the camp where a seemingly endless artillery train was lumbering its way up from the south and curving around the broad talus skirts of Gorgo Plateau, teams of scuttling myropods hitched to six or twelve-pounder guns, their hundreds of tiny legs threshing the soil into a quagmire. Behind them, plodding dejectedly into the rapidly liquefying mud, were ranks upon rank of fresh colonial levees, their brand-new sealant suits creaking loudly at the joints as they made what for most of them would be their first expedition into the surface world.
And what a foray it would prove to be. Almost two hundred thousand men amd women were mustered here at the edge of civilization, poised on the cusp of what was to be the largest surface offensive in recorded history. The Fleet had arrived in the Northern Hinterlands, and it had come to conquer.
"Gangway!" the levees hollered at Ven as she tried to cut a path for Deschane through the line, "Can't you see we's marching 'ere, ya stoopid bint?"
"He's an officer, ain't he?" she screamed back, pointing at the navigator.
Upon noticing the faded chevrons on Deschane's shoulders some of them clumsily snapped to attention, stopping in their tracks. Their comrades behind them, oblivious to this turn of events, bowled right into them, causing a minor stampede. Men and women cursed as they dropped their pristine muskets, never fired in the heat of battle, into the churning soup at their feet, or themselves went sprawling on their hands and knees. Baton-wielding sergeants descended on the mess, screaming for them to get back up, generously assisting them with a boot to the rump or a smack on the side of the head. Deschane looked back at the display for a long moment, as if considering something. Abruptly he grunted at Ven and they continued on their way to the outskirts where the Pathfinders were billeted.
She waited until they were inside the tent and Deschane was back in his sick bed, the navigator turning his back to her in stony silence. Cautiously, she ventured:
“What now, sir?”
“Draw up a list of volunteers,” he rasped, “But do it on the sly. We’re going back out there."
"Very good, sir," Ven squeaked, and went scurrying out of the navigator's chambers, sealing the tent flap softly behind her. She knew that tone and what it signified: the lord navigator had made up his mind, and heaven help whoever would stand in his way.
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

Hello! I'll start talking about myself, then about my boyfriend, then how our relationship went down and how we got back together. Sorry for my English in advance.
So. I'm Brazilian and a 20 year-old Law student. I'm very empathetic, and I came from a family with many challenges - financial and emotional. My parents marriage isn't the best, and I grew up in a pretty hostile environment (in the sense that my parents were very strict about grades, and my father is very aggressive in general). However, they did the best they could with what they had. Last year, I came to live in another state, 7 hours away from home by car, because I got into one of the best colleges in the country (currently second best at Law) and couldn't miss the opportunity. I've been learning how to be an adult more and more day by day. I've got a nice internship and work another job aside from that.
When I thought I was finally free from my mother's controlling behavior, I decided it was finally a good time to date someone. And so I began talking to this boy (at the time, a 22 year old) through the internet. He seemed wonderful. Spent three years in Romania to study (even tho he didn't get to graduate) and then came back to Brazil to pursue his true passion, International Relations. We hit it off pretty quickly and started officially dating after a month.
At that time, even thought he had dated multiple girls in the past, I was his first serious relationship. Even today, he says I'm the only girl he ever felt (and still feels) love for. I got to know later on that he had Bipolarity, depression and Borderline Personality Syndrome - all of those conditions that weren't being treated or medicated for months.
He had problems with money, problems with dates, problems with compromises, problems with his grades, problems with his addictions (cigarettes). He didn't know exactly how to make a girlfriend feel safe, he would often not include me in his routine, sometimes he wasn't careful with his wording... and many other things. Every time I talked about our problems, he would only say "sorry" "I can't guarantee I'll actually change" "maybe I'm not the one you're looking for". He followed a LOT of girls, and always told me "I don't check out Instagram anyways so it's nothing".
Then, after 7 months in the relationship, I went over to my mother's house for Christmas and New year. He also went to his dad's house at that time. We cried a lot when we had to part, because we did absolutely everything together.
Well. Once he got into his dad's house, he began to be more distant (if we chatted for 10 minutes a day, that was rare) and I was exhausted. I just wanted a conversation of some minutes, and I understand he wanted to be with his family, but a nice call at the end of the day or just a few texts wouldn't keep him from them. I talked about that with him and I ended up being the one apologizing for not being understanding.
Phew...
Then, after two weeks of vacation, it happened. A girl going to my DMs and exposing an intimate conversation she and my boyfriend had just a few minutes ago. I exploded. She was Spanish. She wasn't even Brazilian. She was an online friend. He sent messages talking about how he wanted to kiss her on her bed, about how he was horny, asking her for a fit check, and sending pictures of his underwear.
She checked his Instagram later just to find out my name in his bio. So she went over and sent me everything. Every screenshot.
I was betrayed. I never thought he would ever do this to me.
I talked to him. He said he was sorry, that he loved me, that he didn't get why he'd done that, that he was stressed, that he would never do it again, that I was wonderful, that I didn't do anything wrong and he didn't want to lose me...
I'll be honest, at that time, I didn't want to break up. But I HAD to.
So I broke up with him, but told him we could try again if he made an effort, and we should also talk in person about everything. Told him he should seek therapy and a psychiatrist. My condition was that he would tell me if he got together or flirted with another woman until I got back from vacations so we could have that talk.
It didn't take long for him to start telling me he was feeling numb. That he didn't think it was a good idea to get back together. However, he would send me good morning and good night texts every single day, and sometimes he would text me that he loved me. Weeks later, when he stopped texting as much, I found out he was flirting with other girls. So I cut off contact, and told him that I couldn't believe he didn't keep what he promised me (telling me if he flirted with someone else). He hid it from me, and I didn't even understand why.
Days later, I found out he slept with a prostitute, and even told his friends to gang b*ng her. My heart completely stopped. I was heartbroken.
My own depression came out of hiding. So I contacted a therapist, and tried to appreciate the other things in life other than him.
Later on, I came to know he was also working on himself, getting medicated and all.
2 months later, I come back to the state I studied in, where he already was. I come in peace, relaxed, and happy to be in another place full of opportunities. But my heart still weighed.
Then I went to have that talk to him. He apologized for everything. We had a long, long talk about things, and I felt a lot better. But then he started getting physical; hugging me for hours, caressing me, kissing my cheek, kissing my forehead, putting his hand on my thigh...
Before anything could get any more serious, I went back home alone.
Then, another day, he came to get gifts I had gotten for his family (it was his stepmom's birthday, whom I cherished, and on vacations it was his little brother's birthday). I wanted to go to the pharmacy after that, and he asked to accompany me. I accepted, as it was late and I didn't want to go alone.
After sometime, he started talking about how he missed me. How he missed my jokes, my humour, my personality, my presence in his life. He hugged me. I told him it was a bit late for that. That I had given him the chance to have me back, and he didn't appreciate it.
Then we went to talk in a park. We sat together, and he started to tell me even more things. That he would see my clothes and other things in his room and cry, wondering why he'd cheated on me, telling himself he was stupid for letting me go and disrespecting me. He would often miss his way from home and go to my place by mistake. That he'd never stopped loving me, and that he was just running away from conflict l.
Well. I couldn't help it. I missed him like hell and he told me everything I wanted to hear. I ended up kissing him.
We then got back together oficially after three months of going out and sorting things out. He's been wonderful, everything I asked for and more.
But it still hurts, as you might think.
Most of the times I feel insecure he comes running over to my place to make sure I'm not breaking up with him again.
He knows I know about the prostitute, btw.
I just don't get it. He says he regrets it, that he regretted before and after. Well, if he regretted before, he could have just not done it. I didn't get anything... I still couldn't accept why he'd done everything. I felt ugly, I felt like I was not enough...
Then he told me about his past with childhood trauma, which explained a lot to me in my head. I cried when he told me his story, and apologized for what they've done to him, because the person who did bad things to him him was his family and never apologized. He'd never told this story to anyone.
That alone explained a lot of things in my head. His hypersexuality, his tendency to deal with things alone, etc. But the prostitute thing still gets to me.
I keep wondering what she'd looked like. How was it. If he liked it. Why he'd done it.
He says he did it because he just wanted to forget everything, but it just didn't work. That he's here for me now, that he'll never do such thing again, that he'll be good to me from now on...
Idk what to do. I want to stop thinking about her, but idk how.

So I used to be friends with this girl, and any time she was into a man so say she was into a white man at the start. She would start acting like a white woman and displaying characteristics that are white women would have after she went through really bad break up with these white men, she moved onto black men, and she started displaying qualities and acting however, a black woman would act.
This was after she was going through her break up with her previous ex-boyfriend, which was a white man, and so she seemed very desperate for attention at this time, but even when she was into white guys, she would always ask me to hook her up or set her up with white men that I knew.
So while she was going through her break up with her ex, she started obsessing over black guys and one day. We went out to smoke and we were getting high and because my husband was worried about me being by myself and with my friend and getting high, he wanted to come over make sure that I was okay. A bit of context we were in a lounge and we were both high so my boyfriend decided to join in and get high too. She started flirting with my boyfriend and it was very vague flirting. She was actually just laughing a lot at his jokes she was putting me down to make herself look better by comparing our salaries. There was one moment where she acted as if there was something in between her legs like a mark on her trousers, and she kept rubbing it my husband at the time notice that she was acting very weird so he ended up leaving and after that day I confronted her about it and she said she wasn’t flirting. She was denying all that accusations even though I considered one of my best mates, I couldn’t even bring myself to speak to my husband about it, because I just felt so embarrassed and I just felt like it was feeding his ego.
It’s been a year now and she called me yesterday twice and then she called me today and I didn’t pick up but she messaged me saying hey can we call and I messaged back saying hey what’s it about after a whole day had gone by? I was curious as to why she called me, as I felt like she had something to tell me , so I called her back and she picked up and she said that she called me because she was thinking about me and she wanted to know how I was and I told her how weird it was that she was calling me after so long, but we just started going into a mutual conversation telling each other about our lives, and then I had a dog in the background and she said it was my boyfriend‘s dog And then she goes “guess what my boyfriend is Italian”.
Bearing in mind me her and my husband we are all Italian, but since I’ve been friends with her, she’s always gone on about how she would never go for an Italian guy or a guy that is the same ethnic race as us as she just had a stereotype against Italian guys, and evidently from what I’ve been saying she would go for a guy that is far from our ethnic group. I was obviously very taken aback by this because of how much she said that she would not go for an Italian guy, and because of the way our friendship break up had happened at because of how much she said that she would not go for an Italian guy, and because of the way our friendship break up had happened and the fact that I had stopped speaking to her because I felt like she was flirting with my husband right in front of my face. I just find it so weird that she was thinking about me and when she calls me she tells me that she has an Italian boyfriend. I’m not trying to be cocky or anything or make any assumptions, but I feel as if she wanted what I had during that time, and for some reason she wanted to take that away from me and that obviously to us not being friends anymore, but the fact that she called me just to tell me that I just find it so weird. What do you guys think ?

Dear you,
Unlike my previous letters in this space, this time I'm addressing my actual person ... the one I don't even know yet. Because I don't know who you are or know your name, I have more freedom to truly be honest in this space. For context, the musical inspiration behind this is "She Got The Best of Me" by Luke Combs (which is weird, considering that I'm a woman talking to a man, but I'll explain it).
Anyway ...
The money shot from his song was when he said, "You get what's left of me 'cause she got the best of me". This makes me think of my past mistakes with men, how I'd somehow be attracted to hurt and wounded men, left broken and shattered by a woman from their past. Stupid me, I wasted so much time trying to heal and/or rehabilitate them while secretly hoping that they'd suddenly wake up one day and suddenly choose to be the right kind of guy for me (it never happened). I've stopped hitching a ride on that crazy chain, so you don't have to worry about my wasting my productive energy on those not worth it.
My main point, though, is that I don't want to approach our connection or desire to establish anything substantial with you as long as I'm in a place of woundedness. Just like I hated being hit on by a guy who was still hung up over someone else (again, I was too stupid to understand that I'd never be good enough), I don't want you to have to deal with that from me. It is not your responsibility to make up to me what I never had from another man and it's not your responsibility to "prove" to me that you're good enough for me. As long as I have pain and issues that require more of my immediate attention, I'm not truly available for you. It wouldn't be fair to either of us if I had you right now or had the chance to chase you. It would all be for the wrong reasons.
I need more of an energy cleanse, using this time in my life to truly sever those dead connections and restore my energy until I'm at my best. This is vitally necessary so I'd be able to welcome you in with open arms, being fully present and available for you, and to make sure that our healthy and pure connection is at its strongest and best. There are no ghosts from the past that creep up and get in between us. I want things to be fresh, new, and best. But the only way I can do that is for me to thoroughly clean out my house, get busy scrubbing, degreasing, vacuuming, deodorizing and disinfecting.
That is all.
~ Me

I've come to a dark, and difficult realization this last week, and ever since I've been really tired and operating on autopilot. I don't feel safe talking to anyone I know about this, so I'm coming to you, internet strangers. Every second of downtime that I get, I go back to this thought, and it's weighing on me.
But first, some back story. This is going to seem totally unrelated, but just take the ride with me real quick.
Although in many ways I lived a privileged life growing up, my parents and younger brother were all emotionally, verbally, financially, and often times physically abusive. There were times when I feared for my life. But perhaps the worst of it was that they were careful. They carefully built a reputation for me--clumsy, strong-willed, dishonest. It was a reputation that I internalized and grew to think was true, up until I had my daughter. Now, she's nearly three, and I am finally breaking my family's hold on me. Permanently.
Like most abuse victims, I tried to leave them several times. It was my baby's father who taught me how to leave for good, and who taught me the importance of severing ties permanently. When I first left him, I needed financial support from my parents, and was grateful to have it. I know so many victims don't have that and can't get out because of it. And, while they were the lesser of two evils, they've proved in the last few years over and over that they are still, in fact, an evil. And one I need out of my life. My dad got me a job when I was well enough to work again after I left, but it only gave him more access to me. And I let him. I'm a grown adult woman. At any moment I could have had the courage and the strength to just walk away. No amount of perceived financial security (because relying on them is not financial security) is worth what I've gone through emotionally on behalf of him and this 'job'. But now, after years of moving over and over again and not feeling safe or secure, my daughter and I have housing that I won't have to worry about losing for the foreseeable future.
I have provided for her a roof over her head, but more than that, a place to grow in and call her own. A place where she can put posters on her wall and have a playground in the back yard and raise a puppy. It's beautiful, and it means that I know that I can now pursue a career that better aligns with the schedule, work-life balance, and emotional fulfillment that she and I need to better our lives. In other words, I've put in my two weeks' at that job so that I can find something more sustainable and sever my ties with my family closer to for-good.
I think that this is why I've had this sudden realization about my daughter's dad. It has been an incredibly emotional time. The universe seems to be throwing tests at me left and right, as if to say, are you sure? Will you really go through with it this time?
And I will. I have faith in myself as a mother more so than I have ever had faith in myself as a person. I know what my daughter needs me to do, so I'll do it. I know where I want to be so that she can grow and thrive, so I will go there.
But it has reminded me of the person I was, who did not know this, and who did not feel so sure.
When I first met my ex, he said and did all of the right things. I was a newly appointed executive in a male-dominated industry, and I was young and single in a conservative area where any indication that I was not wearing a chastity belt read as an invitation to pursue to every man I worked with or around. I was fresh out of another abusive relationship, still repeating the cycle my family had taught me, and was vulnerable.
And he played the part of my savior very well. We were together two years, and I supported him through COVID and losing his high-paying engineer job only to one day, suddenly, discover that virtually everything about him was a lie. Not only was he cheating on me--heavily, while I was at work and he was pretending to freelance, with several women including some I thought were my friends--but he had no college degree, much less a master's degree in engineering, and he had never had the job he allegedly lost. He was a con-artist with two children by two different women, a separate fiancee he'd been with since high school and kept trying to bring into our lives, and so much more. He was using his older, disabled brother's ssn at the job I had gotten him to avoid paying child support. He had even lied about how his parents died.
I'm not even sure I knew his legal name.
To be clear, I found out about the cheating first. That was it. The rest of it, I'm sure I had vague suspicions of. But I had trusted him. If something was off, then he probably had a sound explanation and it wasn't my business. I was young and stupid, and he was still acting perfectly normal.
I broke up with him, then, just to find out a month later that despite using birth control and condoms religiously, and despite having more than one prognosis that I would never conceive let alone carry a child, I was pregnant. At the time, I was no contact with my entire family and had been further isolated from my friends by my then-boyfriend. Plus, the company I worked for was showing signs of selling--my job was by no means secure, and especially not so because they had a history of firing pregnant women in my position exactly two months after their return from maternity leave.
The point was, I was desperate, and I was scared, and I didn't know that the father of my child was a monster, so I tried to make it work, thinking that my daughter, surely, needed a father figure. And for his part, he seemed remorseful. He promised to go to counseling and agreed to certain conditions and, again, said all of the right things.
And then he started drinking. And screaming. And demanding. And...threatening, and then doing.
But at that point, I was alone. I was halfway through a complicated pregnancy that made me incredibly ill with small town doctors who were gaslighting me and not helping me, the writing was on the wall at work and I was enduring slander and drama there, and I had no one and nowhere else to turn. So I pushed through. I tried to leave him when I was about 22 weeks along. I enlisted the help of my friend, who supported me, and I thought I was home free.
But that night was one of the most horrific nights of my life. The only person I've been able to tell about it was my lawyer, a year later, when I went in to make sure my daughter was protected. By the way, he's not in either of our lives at all and will never be. I have and will continue to do everything in my power to keep him away from us. Not that he could find us if he tried.
Things only got worse after that night. and at some point. I told a trusted friend and my mom (breaking no contact) that I intended to leave. Safely, and in time. I started freelancing again and looking for other jobs, and I played house the best I could to keep myself and baby safe. I ended up being ordered to go on bed rest two weeks early, And then I gave birth, and my daughter and I both almost died.
It was horrific, and traumatic, and sent me into a terrible spiral. It was all I could do to care for my daughter. But it became very quickly apparent that I was running out of time to get her out. And this is where the realization comes in.
His alcoholism and verbal and emotional abuse were increasing in frequency and intensity. He was also growing more violent--even if he was just punching holes in doors. But he was also...weird with our daughter. I did everything I could not to have to leave him alone with her, and she was only left with him twice.
Once, for an hour, because I had to go into work and handle something in the middle of the day. He left my 1mo infant daughter lying, asleep, on her belly, on a very high bed with loose blankets and pillows, alone in our apartment while he moved something from one apartment to another. I have no idea for how long.
I tried to breastfeed, at first, and there were issues with that so she was waking up often and hard to put back to sleep. We later found out she wasn't getting enough milk because of a tongue tie and started supplementing with formula at two weeks. I have heavy suspicions that I was also underproducing because of stress and emotional duress. One night, he was frustrated because even though I was sleeping in the living room and taking care of the baby while he slept in the bed, he couldn't sleep, and blamed me for being an incompetent mother. He took her from me, and put her to sleep with him in bed. I knew he was drunk. I went in to check on her--I was anxious, I had done tons of research on safe sleep. He saw me, screamed at me, and then blamed me for waking her up.
Later, he would try to put rice cereal in her bottle and make those "knockout bottles" that are incredibly dangerous when I wasn't looking. There were a number of weird incidents like this which he chalked up to being older than me, and being the way he'd raised his other two babies. And back then I really thought it was just all apart of the abuse--targeted at me.
We got out when she was five months old and today she's a sweet, happy, healthy kid.
But, and honestly maybe this should have occurred to me before, I can not shake the heaviness of the conclusion that remembering all of these incidents has brought me to; he wanted her to die. I mean, I guess in a roundabout way he expressed this. He started berating me for not getting an abortion almost immediately after I passed the legal time to get one done where I'm from (they're completely illegal now but were not at the time). I'm not anti-abortion, by any means, but it felt like it came out of nowhere. He also refused to have any part in naming her or preparing for her arrival--even in raising her. I always thought that these were just manipulation tactics. That he was just saying malicious things to get under my skin.
Now that I'm writing this, I also remember one of the last texts he sent to me over a year ago, alleging that he had shot and killed someone before. It wasn't an active threat to me. It was just part of a psychosis spiral where he was trying to explain that we could live safely with him in his new apartment even though it wasn't in a safe area or something, and so I really just discarded it. I didn't see him anymore. He didn't know where we lived. He was only allowed to contact me still because I was building a case against him. It didn't seem like it mattered.
Now? Today? I think that if I hadn't left with her when I did, we might both be dead already. More than that, I think that if I had not had her and I had ended up back with him--or back in another abusive relationship with anyone else--that I would certainly be dead. I might have been the one to physically take us both and leave, but she saved me first.
So that's it. That's what I've been struggling with. And I haven't really fully processed what that means for me, yet, except that I've made another appointment with my lawyer to take additional safety measures for my daughter. But emotionally? I'm not sure. I'll have to sit with this, and I just needed to say it somewhere. If you read all of this, thank you.
tldr; i left my ex when my daughter by him was 5 months old, and now she's nearly 3 years old and we are no contact with him, but i've recently been hit with memories of actions he took when she was an infant that lead me to believe he may have been subconsciously or even actively trying to take her life

This has become, at this point, a recurring theme in my life. Growing up I was very tomboyish; taped my chest, tried to date chick's (failingly), always acted more masculine than anything. Never wore makeup or jewelry, never had my nails or hair done except bland cuts and colors, etc. Now I'm 28, and several times I've run into both men and women asking if I was a trasn person. Now, with certain people I have used that to my advantage and just make them Hella uncomfortable. But other instances it's just caught me so off guard. At one instance I was with a large group of people and drank at both the girls turn and the guys turn of a drinking game. One of the people there said "I never thought of using non binary as a way to get drunk more" I was surprised Pikachu, I just wanted a sip of my drink not to make a societal statement. Another time I was in the restroom of a local bar and was fixing my wig. (I have, since childhood, become slightly more feminine. As such instead of having to upkeep my own hair I have wigs for days I feel like being girly and doing my makeup and such.) An older woman comes out of a stall, looks down at an advertisement on the counter, and asks if that event was today, to which I said no. The event in question was a Drag show happening that next week. She said uuuhhh ok and very awkwardly left. The most annoying is that whenever people get angry online about some comment here or some post there that has a tendency to be the first insults they throw. How I could afford to put some mediocre tit's on but not get my jaw shaved is the most common. I have absolutely no problem with trans people, I think they have it so hard dealing with harassment these days on top of trying to find themselves on top of always feeling different for being different type of stuff. And I don't consider being called trans an insult, I'll go along with it more times than not since bully's usually don't like you agreeing with them. But man it's frustrating when I look so much like my dad that I look like that meme of John Cena in a wig. This isnt really complaining, I'll take that "insult" over so many other things that can be said. It just affects my self esteem, especially when my bf and I have had long term sexual issues in the relationship.

I want to to express my gratitude at the things my new doctor told me during our appointment a few days ago. and to maybe bring some positivity to this sub, especially after how painfully upset I was in my last post and how much you guys struggle as much as me with feeling dismissed, invalidated, etc.
bascially, I told the doctor the symptoms I've been putting up with and have as of late and have been for years now, like since age 11. first green flag was him asking if I was okay, if I feel anxious and if I struggle with anxiety and depression and IMMEDIATELY telling me afterwards "btw, this doesn't mean that the pain is all in your head. that's not a real thing. the mind and body are definitely connected and the mental can affect physicial and the reverse, but that doesnt take away the validity of the real physical pain you are experiencing and doesn't mean the mental is what's causing it. of course the pain is "in your head" you wouldn't know pain is there unless your brain tells you duh"
then he told me "to be honest, I don't think that what you're struggling with will show up on these tests. I've seen lots of cases like this before and you've been sporadically visiting our clinic over the past several years for different symptoms and problems when what you need is a consistent physician to track your symptoms over time and help you treeat them". he told me that he thinks I may have fibriomyalgia or chronic fatigue syndrome (because of widespread pain across different body systems) and despite expecting all the labs he ordered for me to come up negative, he's giving them to me just to rule anything out, like my past vitamin d issue. and he told the over and over again that just because the tests come back negative doesn't mean nothing is wrong with me. he said it like 5 times looking me straight in the eyes all serious.. like he knew that I and all the chronically ill folks out there needed to hear that. I did. we do 💗
he went on about how so many doctors, especially male doctors are arrogant (which is why he believes women tend to be better doctors) and have this pride issue where they think that just because they have a degree and went to school that they ""know everything"" that if they can't identify what a patient is going through that it means nothing is wrong and that it can't possibly just be them being misinformed!! he said all this considered, I can choose a physician from the clinic to start seeing on a regular basis now that I'm 18 and understands if I wanna be referred to or choose to see a woman. but I was like "no, I want YOU to be my doctor" I told him he's the first doctor ever I've seen that acknowledges the presence and possibility of these chronic illnesses, that didn't use mental health to invalidate, but to enhance, and that actually just listened. then I gave him a hug and started tearing up a little bit like the cry baby I am lolll
I'm seeing him again next tuesday to see if I'm having any improvements and he put me on a medication for nerve pain (gabapentin). so far it's not working the best and I'm still in alot of pain. I'm not expecting the ride through whatever I have to be easy and seamless but damn am I happy to have found someone that at least seems willing to give me a chance, fully hear me out and bear witness to my situation. especially at my young age. 7 years is alot to have chronic pain like this, but I feel luckier than most people. I know it's hard, but please keep fighting guys, at least keep posting on here and sharing your stories, no matter how ugly or ""negative"". maybe I'm the last person to try to be positive, but I care a lot, the people in this sub care, there are doctors out here who can and do care, everyone here is so strong

I fully expect to get cooked for this take, since Lilo & Stitch is obviously a very beloved film, and for good reason. But the climax of the movie just doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense to me. And the reason for that is because despite being taken by Captain Gantu in his attempt to capture Stitch, was Lilo actually in any real danger?
Seriously think about this. Yeah it sucks that Lilo got kidnapped, but would anything really all that terrible happen to her if Gantu brought her back with him, in which she would have been presented to the grand council woman and the rest of the galactic alliance? They would all find out that Gantu doesn’t have Stitch, and has instead taken an innocent young child from her homeplanet. He would have been humiliated, plus would have gotten in real trouble for doing this. Kinda like what happens at the end of the movie, and Lilo would have likely gotten shipped back to earth.
If anything, Lilo was put in way more danger when Stitch, Nani, Jumba and Pleakley decided to chase after her in their own spaceship. There’s a few instances where Gantu’s ship spins and crashes in ways that probably should have resulted in Lilo getting seriously injured, or perhaps even killed. Stitch and co probably could have simply gone back to the GA homebase, and negotiate for Lilo’s release. Maybe even offer up Stitch himself in exchange for her. This isn’t even mentioning how ridiculous it is that 5 to 10 minutes after the kidnapping Gantu’s ship is still flying through Earth’s skies requesting hyperspace clearance. As someone who works for the alliance, Pleakley should have reassured everyone that Lilo is unlikely to have anything really bad happen to her. I understand you can find stuff like this to point out in other family friendly animated movies, but this is something I just couldn’t help but think about during my rewatch of Lilo & Stitch. It’s one oddity in the writing in an otherwise pretty solid film.

Having been vegan for over 10 years now, I, like many of you, have heard all of the arguments against veganism and plant-based diets. Some of these probably sound familiar: "You will be malnourished!", "Humans aren't meant to eat just plants, we can't get all of our vitamins and minerals from plants alone!"
I would roll my eyes at these arguments and continued on living a vegan lifestyle. I knew that, even if it WERE true that we evolved to eat animal products alongside plants, that didn't mean that now, as we have also evolved morally, technologically, and developed a greater conscientiousness to the environment, that we still had to eat animal products. I knew that it was possible to get all of the necessary vitamins and minerals from plants. I knew that I could be perfectly healthy and be vegan.
Over the last 10 years, that has been mostly true. I started eating plant based in college and have ever since. Did I watch my vitamin and mineral intake to ensure I was fulfilling my nutritional needs? Of course not! What college student, with an on-the-go lifestyle and penchant for junk food, alongside the brazen confidence of one's health in youth, is concerned about such things? Not I!
I have now come to reckon with this ignorance, when after 10 years I have started to take a vegan multivitamin. Let me tell you all, B12 matters. I knew it did, in a broad, yeah, I should try and make sure I get B12, way. But my deficiency fundamentally changed my personality.
I thought that my personality just...changed during college. Where I started university with a happy, more outgoing outlook, free from most anxieties and preoccupations, I ended university an anxious, paranoid woman who dealt with periods of severe depression and lack of energy and motivation. I thought, well, that's college! I'm an adult now, and being an adult just sucks. It crept up so slowly I didn't realize how much I had changed; until I took that multivitamin.
I feel like I have been living in a fog for 10 years. A fog where I constantly started petty arguments with my husband over my own paranoia, where I dealt with suicidal ideation almost every day, where I hated being around others. I had an extreme need for control, of anxiety over very small things, and a preoccupation with rewinding ancient embarrassments and conversations in my head over and over, growing more and more anxious. I felt like there was no out. Was this just how I was, how I had always been?
I took the multivitamin two weeks ago, and now take it every morning. The fog has lifted. It seriously cured my depression and anxiety. When I think about conversations or embarrassments now, I can hardly hold onto the memory before I brush it aside and move on, because I can't change the past by replaying it. I have more self-confidence, and the negative, spiraling self-talk has ceased. I feel more levelheaded, and I have regained trust in my husband that I lost due to this fog. He has also noticed a change in me, my energy levels, and my outlook.
There is NO SHAME in supplementing your diet. Do not feel like you are validating critics' opinions that veganism isn't sustainable just because you need a vitamin supplement. We cannot make the world a healthier place if we ourselves are not healthier first! Please share your own stories, and please do not take deficiencies lightly!
Additionally, while this was the root cause of my mental health struggles, I am not saying it is a cure-all. B12 deficiency can be *a* cause of anxiety, paranoia, insomnia, depression, weakness and fatigue, nerve pain, dementia symptoms, along with many, many MANY more psychological and physical issues. It is VERY IMPORTANT. Do not underestimate your own health!

I have been looking 11 months now; over 1600 applications.
525 rejections, (about) 900 ghosting me. 55 interviews by phone or video, 4 in-person. of those 4, only one I wasn't the best candidate (a woman with a law license and industry connections). I also got feedback. this was the best interview I ever had in my life.
I am depressed, burnt out, short temper, and hate humanity. I had worked through ptsd years ago, finally got past it, and it no longer affected my life. the hardest part was learning to let go of righteous anger.
I looked in the mirror the other day and thought I am looking like I was rode hard and put away wet. I have always looked much younger than I actually am. my hair seems to have thinned, my skin not as smooth. I had some health scares and issues that I have a zero risk for.
I thought about an article that I read about how us presidents look before they take office and after. for every 4 years in office, they age 10 years. I attribute the toll on my body to this job hunting process. I am trying to keep positive, I don't want to hate humanity, but that is so hard to do when I am being given such justification to do so.
my take away is that you really need to take better care of yourself when job hunting. do not neglect yourself.
has anyone else had the job search take a toll on your body or health?

Throwaway account.
I’m in a relationship that I don’t know if I can save, or if I’m even capable of saving. My (M,30) partner (F,40) and I met 3 or 4 years ago working at the same location, and began dating 2 years ago. We clicked immediately. We’ve had many ups and downs, but some really high highs, and really low lows. I love this woman so so much, and she’s very smart, caring and compassionate. She’s been a wonderful partner to me and has supported me. We’ve had our consistent struggles along the way pertaining to communication, in which I know I’m not very good at. We’ve known that there is an age gap between us, and that shouldn’t technically matter, but people do grow and learn and change and evolve, and that life experience really makes a difference in understanding the world. We are currently at a crossroads. The relationship is on the verge of ending. There is lots of arguing, lots of crying and lots of therapy. The biggest killers for us have been pertaining to communication on my end, which I am severely struggling to understand. My partner has told me time and time again that I am passive aggressive, and won’t think much before I speak. She says I don’t know how to be supportive and I take things incredibly literally. I don’t take initiative and I’m a passive and timid person. It’s hard for me to understand when someone is needing something unless they tell me point blank to my face. I’ve missed countless cues and opportunities to be supportive and step in because I thought that if she needed something, she would just straight up tell me. I feel like I’m crossing boundaries if someone tells me something and expects something else. She’s even explained to me in a general sense how to “be there” but with each situation being so different, I can’t just apply that information in the same way every time in my head so I freeze up and try to just work in the moment. I also forget lots of small details and will forget lots of things in schedules and around the house that lead to frustrations. I’ll cut her off without realizing it and I’ll say things that can be taken as passive without realizing I’m doing it and it’s pushed her to a breaking point. And when things get so heatedI have tried working on it, journaling, therapy, being present, active listening techniques, everything I can think of. It didn’t work. Things never changed even though I was putting in effort. She feels defeated and I feel useless. As this has grown over the years, I discussed these things with my therapist and tried to understand why I could be coming across that way, because In my head my intentions are always good but I know that actions speak louder than words. We’ve gone through speech and childhood upbringing to see if there are any underlying reasons or causes. Then something hit me, and I’m ashamed and embarrassed that I didn’t consider it before. I’ve had Tourette’s Syndrome (diagnosed at 5) and have always had a nagging thought in the back of my head that I was on the autism spectrum, but it never REALLY crossed my mind until recently when I started reading about how people with ADHD or autism struggle in long-term relationships, and the specific dynamics that come with them. “if your partner has ADD, you may feel ignored and lonely. Your partner can focus on things that interest them, but not on you. They never seem to follow through on what they agree to do. They may seem to act like a child instead of an adult. You nag them, and you’ve started to dislike the person you’ve become. The two of you either fight or clam up. Worst of all, you are stressed about being saddled with the household responsibilities while your partner gets to have all the fun. If you have ADHD, you may feel your partner has become a nagging monster. The person you loved has become a control freak, trying to manage the details of your life. No matter how hard you try, you can’t meet your partner’s expectations. The easiest way to deal with them is to leave them alone.” - ADDitude Mag
This whole time I had been trying to adjust things about my communication and thinking when in reality, I’m coming to find out that I’m not sure that it’s possible for me without help. And I feel so stupid. Went and got tested with my therapist (a 22 year practicing APRN) and sure enough, “Yeah it’s pretty clear you have ADHD”. I also, YOU GUESSED IT, might be on the spectrum, she says. Doing further testing currently. This is a jarring and honestly, a kind of traumatizing realization for me to have at 30. So I was prescribed low doses of Adderall to combat the forgetfulness and communication and it seems to be working. I feel focused, my emotions are regulated, I take more initiative, the loudness in my brain is quiet now, but I’m 24 hours into the new medication and things are so bad in the relationship that my partner has lost all trust in my ability to change and my ability to take initiative, take action and lead with my words without being passive aggressive or direct. It’s at the spot where she’s so angry about it all that It feels like even if I make a lot of progress, any slip-up I make leads to an argument and a blow-up. She voiced anger that I didn’t look into ADHD sooner. I agree. I truly feel like a fuck-up. I feel like I’ve hurt her for 2 years straight and didn’t even fully understand how I was doing it. But at the same time, I also feel like she doesn’t and can’t understand that my brain has a lot of trouble grasping these concepts, and it’s not just a yes/no switch for me to do. I sincerely struggle with comprehension in intimate settings and I want to be better at it so bad. I’m not choosing to be passive aggressive or not supportive or not take action, I just truly don’t understand how to do that. I looked back at my past relationships and saw similarities at why they ended. I’m ashamed. -I’m ashamed for going this long without knowing about my condition. I’m almost 30. -I feel guilty for letting my relationship get bad even though I thought I was trying my hardest to be better. -I’m embarrassed to be in a spot where I also now have to deal with the emotions that come with knowing my brain works differently than other people’s. I feel like an idiot overall now and my view of myself has changed. -I feel regret for my past relationships and how heartbreak could’ve been averted if I had just looked into this sooner. At the end of the day, I feel like I’ve been trying so hard to be a good person and partner and take criticism with stride and work hard on bettering myself, but I’ve ended up in a spot where past relationships & current ones likely hate me because of my inability to understand communication on an intimate level.
​
I want to preface that I don’t mean to sound selfish talking about myself like this. I know that it may even come across pity-party ish, because I know that my partner is the one hurting the most, but I don’t know what else to do and I’m struggling so bad and need some direction. I’m putting this here because I feel like I have no one to talk to about the situation from an outside perspective and I’m feeling physically sick to my stomach every day because of everything and I feel like I’m going to break down. I love this person so much and don’t want things to end, but I’m worried it’s too far gone to save, and pushing onward is just going to hurt us both deeper and deeper with every passing day. I’ve set up couple’s counseling and I’m truly hoping she gives me some time to adjust to medication to see if things make a shift for the better, but things are looking bleak.
We are pursuing couple's counseling and individual counseling.
I am pursuing active treatment and study into my condition.
Is there anything else I can be doing? TL;DR : Partner and I have struggled bad with communication for 2 years. She’s been justifiably angry that I’m not trying to learn or take action and fix the issues, and that things never change. Turns out I’ve had ADHD and possible autism the whole time and just legitimately don’t know how to understand cues and communication on an intimate level. On Adderall, things seem to be improving. Relationship may be fucked because of how long it look me to understand. I don't know what to do.

Per our meeting, I need you to do the following: *Please clean up everyday. *Clean up means sweeping and mopping your floors and cleaning your bathrooms. *You need to have order in your home. The way you allow your kids to terrorize your home is ridiculous. You need to be mindful that you have neighbors. It appears your new place is already raggedy because you do not discipline your kids. * Please do your girls hair. It’s ridiculous how you allow Kiya and Liya to go to school the way they do. These are young ladies. You have never took the time out to teach them how to care for their personal hygiene and self care. *Why is Nana still in a diaper and not in some form of school? Why do you allow her to run your house? Please have Nana enrolled in school the next term and potty trained. *Why Sy looks like she is just over it? As beautiful as she is, you refuse to do her hair, bathe her and dress her up. Sy needs therapy in order for her to walk better and obtain cognitive skills. *Why are you allowing HJ to have a future that will be against him? He’s already a statistic because he’s a black male which means you as a mother must do everything you can to keep him on a straight and narrow path. You allow him to be around Papa, who is not a good influence and he is now skipping school. He is already several grades behind and at some point, he will eventually quit school and end up being a menace to society. I have two boys who are now men. One graduated college and now is a high ranking officer in the military and my youngest on the way to college to study engineering. I kept my foot on them and made sure they were involved in activities growing up. There are so many things FREE you can have your boys doing after school and for the summer. *Let Niya drive your other car to work. *In order for your home to be a home, you have to invest in it. You can go to any dollar store and decorate your entire place. No matter where you live, you should always make it comfortable. I was a single mom of four kids before they all became grown and my home was always clean and comfortable. My income tax money went to making sure my kids had clothes, games, outdoor recreational toys, books, etc. and I always treated myself to buying something nice for our home. I wasn’t rich, but my kids thought I was. Those kids are bored and need stimulation and sitting in an empty house with nothing to do is why they are so disruptive.
I am not judging you and I definitely don’t think I am better than you or anyone else. I know how hard it is being a single mother, but you have to put in some type of effort if you want to see positive results. Your life could change drastically in a good way if you get a job and be the woman you was designed to be. Even though I can’t stand you and I think you need to be thrown off a mountain and ate by every wild animal when you hit the ground, I am really pulling for you. I am happy you got a roof over your head, but sweetie you need to do better in order for your kids to have a better future. With much love, A Single Mother From Florida.

Hello,
Well, I wanted to ask a question...
I live in the US, and for all my life I have been fine with gay and lesbian people. I do not mind them, some of my friends even go under those terms.
But last year I was called "cis," a transexual girl used that term with me because she said I was not a woman, but a "cis-woman."
After that experience, I started to think more about transexuals and the LGBT community. When I shared my thoughts with a friend, she called me "homophobic," even though I do not show hate towards anyone.
Here is what I told my friend...
"I do not like the change of pronouns if I see you as a guy I will use HE and if I see you as a girl I will use HER. The only person who can use the pronoun THEY is a pregnant woman because she could be referred to as 2 people. If a guy uses a dress and refers to himself as a woman, I will not go along with his joke. I am a born woman, and I will never become a man (respectfully, I do not hate men or anything). I see the change of sex/gender as a popular trend or a subculture. For example, when I was younger I went through an Emo phase, then in high school, I had a hip-hop phase. In those subcultures, I enjoyed copying the fashion style and music, but it was just a subculture."
After I shared my personal opinions with her, she called me "homophobic" and I was surprised. Apparently, nowadays you cannot have a personal opinion because it makes you the villain?
I wanted to share and hear the opinions of others. I am not even comfortable with sharing my opinions nowadays because of how sensitive some people are.

- i am talking to a scorpio girl Our connection from the first moment was beautiful and in a short time I gained her trust and she earned mine, we have many things in common. We both like to write, we can be silent and feel at peace, we both share the same values etc etc... But when we started talking she confused me because she told me she didn't want to be in a relationship with anyone but we kept flirting and she told me that she had never trusted someone like she trusts me.
- At one point she asked me if I was seeing her as more than just a friend, and I said no. that I saw her as a friend and that she had a special place in my heart because of how she was with me and because she was one of the few people I could trust. Well, then I told myself that it was just a friendship between us, even though I felt that she liked me in the same way that I liked her.
- I feel that at that moment we both wanted to say the opposite, that we both liked each other but since I told her that I saw her as a friend I think she wanted to protect her feelings and decided to say the same thing and believe me that I understand her 100%. But understand that when we started talking she had told me that she didn't want anything to do with anyone so I decided to respect her decision and since our friendship is beautiful I decided to keep it that way because I didn't know how she felt. we were both protecting our feelings
- Well here I tell you the drama, she's my sister's best friend (who is a Libra) for 7 years and my sister always insisted that I be with her and I always told her no. I had never spoken to her until a few months ago. Well, my sister at that time saw that I didn't want to be with her best friend so she decided to introduce her to my cousin (who is a Virgo) and the three of them would go to the river to swim and every time they saw each other was when my sister was there
- Well, understandably, they both liked each other and at that time I didn't care because I didn't know her. All my siblings and my family knew her except me because I'm an antisocial and I didn't feel like meeting her lol. long story short she and my cousin were never anything since she decided to cut everything off with him, they only talked for a short time to get to know each other and this version was also given to me by my sister which proved it to be true.
- Well, the thing is, she only talked to my cousin through messages and they saw each other when my sister looked for them. My cousin is a little crazier than me lol and it seems that she saw it and didn't like it, he always asked her out, he invited her to his apartment and she didn't want to because she knew what he wanted with her and in the short time that I know her I could see that she respects herself and her body, so she decided not to talk to him again. All this was told to me by my sister who is her best friend.
- Well after all this context, we continued to flirt and talk to each other as if we were something even when we were both in the hospital while my sister gave birth, she sat down for me to lie on her thighs while she played with my hair and caressed my face, there was a moment when she and I were alone in the elevator and she hugged me because she is afraid of the elevators and while I hugged her, she let out an 'I love you' i was surprised and didn't know what to say so i kept hugging her. all of this happened two weeks ago...
- Yesterday I decided to talk to her and I asked her if we saw each other as friends and in a few words she told me that she always liked me, that she told me that she saw me as a friend because I told her that I saw her that way. And I asked her why she hadn't told me that if she had told me everything would have been different and she told me that she knows it in a few words, regretting not telling me. When my sister found out several months ago that she and I were talking, she had an argument with her and in a few words told her that she could talk to me normally but not for a relationship, and that it didn't look good for her to be with me when she was talking to my cousin (which should be noted that after what happened with my cousin my sister kept insisting that I be with her) so i don't understand why she's mad now.
-Following yesterday's conversation, she was telling me all this and told me that she was never with my cousin, that they were just getting to know each other (which is true because even my sister told me) but that she didn't want my family to see her as something she's not and that she didn't want to have any more problems with my sister who is her best friend. but that if they hadn't gone through so many problems, she would have loved to be with me. She told me that I'm everything she looks for in a man She told me that she loves the way I am and how I treat her, that she feels safe with me and that if we don't get to have a relationship that she wants life to put someone like me in her path because our connection is unique and beautiful.
-She's afraid of what might happen if we get together and obviously I understand that she doesn't want to have problems with my sister and much less now that my sister made her godmother to her son. But every time I told her to be honest with her feelings I got more confused because she herself is confused and at times she let me know that she wanted something with me but at times she made me see that she didn't want to out of fear.
I asked her to be sure, (well then are you sure you don't want anything? I don't want to start a relationship with someone without knowing how you feel, I don't want to hurt you) and she with a sad tone told me (don't worry about me my love, give yourself the chance, believe me that if a lot of things hadn't happened I wouldn't think twice right now and I'd be with you)
-but today we kept talking like we always do, so my question is should i move forward and keep her as a friend ?

I'm sure many of you have come across "trad-wife" content at some point or another online. I've been fed this content more and more lately, which had me thinking about what this "trend" means for mothers and families, and what impact it has overall for the mothers who are still "in the trenches" today. Whether it's a trend you participate in, or one you roll your eyes at, I think for the most part, it garners an emotional response from women, especially mothers, in either a positive or negative light. I also want to make it clear that "trad-wives" and SAHM are NOT the same thing at all, and should not ever be used interchangeably. These are two completely different things. A SAHM is still a working independent woman whos job inside of the home to be viewed equally as important as any work outside of the home.
I fall under the category of someone who is triggered by "trad-wife" content and generally have a pretty negative, critical response every time I run into it. But today, as I came across a video of yet another "trad-wife" influencer, who was defending her lifestyle, and call to "traditional" ways, I decided to stop and actually take a minute and be honest with what emotion I was really feeling when I come across this content. It isn't actually rage, disappointment or fear, like I tell myself it is. It's jealousy.
The truth is, my first reaction is jealousy and a sense of inadequacy that feeds off of my deepest insecurities as a mother. Jealousy for the mothers that can stay at home all day with their children, who can clean, bake, garden and cook with their little ones at their side. And as someone who is a working mum, but not by choice, I feel jealous of the extra time these women can spend with their children during these short pre-school years. I feel inadequate because I secretly fear I am failing as a mother by choosing a double income, over the financial insecurity of a one-income household. Inadequate because my house is a mess and I'm burned out from work from a job I hate by the time I get home, that I worry my children aren't getting the best version of me.
After the initial emotional response of jealousy, my logical brain kicks in and reminds myself that this lifestyle they are showcasing isn't reality. Most SAHM's aren't baking sourdough on homesteads all day. They aren't showing the 3AM wakeups or the teething drama. This isn't an accurate representation of motherhood for 95% of us. This leads me to my next emotional response, which is to then to substitute jealousy for criticism. I begin to list all the ways their lifestyle is flawed, naive and unsustainable to give myself some false sense of superiority to these women who are essentially just cosplaying.
I'm sure this reaction isn't uncommon. I feel it's a natural response for people to substitute the emotion of jealousy with criticism to justify their own lifestyles and choices that feel attacked. You could argue that the "trad-wife" movement is just that--a way for some SAHM's who may feel the need to justify their lifestyle and choices of not be in the work force, when surrounded by a world that places outside work in higher esteem than domestic work.
However, I would like to clarify that just because I feel jealous when watching this content, doesn't mean I wish I was a "trad-wife". I find the entire concept to be just as toxic as the "hustle"/"girl boss" culture they are fighting against. Not to mention, a completely misinformed and myopic view of what a "traditional" wife or family looked/looks like throughout the world. The "traditional" wife they are cosplaying as is just ONE example of a historic "traditional" family and a woman/mothers role within one. Yes, women have always been charged with domestic duties and childrearing. The home has always been where women have traditionally been taught to focus on, however, women have also ALWAYS worked outside of the home too—either on farms, factories or kitchens (etc). And women have ALWAYS outsourced childrearing to either a nanny or governess (if wealthy) or they had their eldest kids stay home and look after the younger ones. Working mothers, and hired childcare are not new concepts to the female history.
But, I do see how this trend came about. It’s an allergic reaction to the extreme push for women to get out of the homes and into the workforce. To climb the corporate ladder while breastfeeding. To pity the girl with the college degree and spit up stains on her shirt at home with unused potential. To take “equal rights” so literally we act like a man’s life or parental journey is identical to our own. Ignoring our monthly hormonal fluctuations and pretend we're fine to sit through that 2 hour meeting while popping Midol. That we add more value to society as another cog in a machine sitting in a cubicle, then managing your home and family, because that's just "sitting at home" all day, right? And maternity leave is really such an inconvenience…
Looking at both extremes, I found it funny how both sides share the same core issues/beliefs which do nothing but hold mothers, and families on both ends of the spectrum back. This is what I found were the major issues in the perception of motherhood at both extremes, when I took a step back and away from my own biases as a working mother.

1. We need to recognise that both lifestyles come with the enormous privilege many women don't have-- The ability to live off of one income is a privilege just like having enough money for childcare or family support is a privilege. For many, our family set up wasn’t a choice, it’s a necessity. The reasons to be or not to be a SAHM are not always a choice or preference. A lot of times these are hard decisions that include major sacrifices. Before you judge either lifestyle, acknowledge the privilege you might have in the CHOICE to follow either life path. A woman who HAS to work to keep her family fed, even if all she could afford were Poptarts for breakfast, is just as good of a mum as the one who made fresh sourdough that morning. The mum who has to go back to school shopping at the second hand store, and mend hand me downs to dress her kids on one income is just as good of a mum as the corporate baddie who bought her kids the trendy shoes their kid asked for. Both kids are fed, both kids are dressed, both kids are loved.
2. No matter what they say, we all love our kids, and how they turnout does NOT come down to your choice to work in or outside the home -- At the end of the day, I don’t think kids of working mums turn out much differently than kids of SAHM. I think we all know personal examples of rotten kids or adults with both types of mothers. Neither dictates your relationship with your child. As kids get older, they naturally drift away from us. The truth is we may mess up in ways we didn’t even consider. Our kids may always blame us for being overbearing by not having a life outside of the home. Or resent us for never being around because of work. Bad/toxic mothers can be found both in the home or the work force. Just think back to how the adults in our lives talk about their mothers--sometimes it was "mum had 6 kids at home, but she somehow managed to keep us all fed and cared for", or "mum had to work a full day cleaning houses, but she'd always make sure we read a book together after work". All mothers make sacrifices, no matter what type of sacrifice it is. Our kids aren't going to love or resent us for our choices to work or stay at home, but how we show up for them. Don't underestimate our children's ability to recognise our sacrifices on either end.
3. Full time domestic work and homemaking is a real full time job that hold just as much value as working outside of the home and should be treated and respected as such.-- Childcare is a full time job. Full time nanny's and daycares prove that. Homemaking is a full time job. We hire cleaners, interior designers and household staffs that prove it. Cooking, is a full time job. We hire chefs and nutritionists that prove it. So, when a woman is a SAHM does one (or more likely) all of the above jobs for her family, it’s given lesser value or consideration than someone who works outside the home? You hear “I like to get dinner ready and the house clean for my husband who worked all day he deserves to relax when he gets home”, as if you sat around watching tv all day? Just because you enjoy it, or it’s for your own benefit doesn’t make it any less of a real fulltime job. You deserve sick days and breaks throughout the day like any corporate job would...except you never actually get them. The person bringing in a paycheck doesn’t contribute a greater value to your family than you. And same goes for working mums—you already have one full time job, don’t discredit the work left at home as just “chores” that you additionally take on as “lesser value” expected tasks. If two people work outside of the home then two people need to be responsible for domestic work. These are full time jobs. Spouses cutting the grass and taking out the trash is not equivalent to cooking, childcare and cleaning. We need to stop ignoring the home in the overall picture of a healthy family life. We all need a safe place to live that is clean, we all need to eat nutritious food, and our children NEED someone to look after them. These things have a real invaluable place in society. As a working mum, I'm finding more and more how hard it is to bridge that gap, to manage two workplaces essentially, the home AND the outside work. All attention and focus goes to work outside of the home, but the home life doesn't just sustain itself. We are neglecting the importance of our domestic life in favour of the outside working life. This goes for both working mums and SAHM's. We need to stop ignoring that piece of the puzzle if we want to create the complete picture. As it stands now, most working mums cannot afford help in the home which is effecting our mental and physical health--SAHM's don't get any sort of financial nest eggs or assistance at basically working for free, which makes them more vulnerable to abuse.
4. Men need to be included in the domestic work in a way that sets them up for success. You are doing your family or spouse more harm than good by taking it all on yourself. -- By not giving dads a real opportunity to be involved in domestic duties you are depriving them and the children the full depth of a parent child bond and perpetuating that domestic life isn’t as valuable as outside work, or that domestic work is strictly a "woman's" domain. If you are a SAHM, and your job is to care for the house and kids, you just worked a full 8 hour day, just like your spouse. Because you stayed at home all day, most likely the basic chores have been done (though, kids are wild and even things like unloading a dishwasher can't be tackled), and maybe dinner is cooking. That alone is taking so much off of your spouses plate. Every family situation is different, every work situation is different, however, both you and your spouse are entitled to decompress a little after a full day. Dads need to be incorporated into the childcare aspect at the very least when they come home. Maybe since you spent all day with the kids, your husband gives them a bath and puts them to bed. Or, if you are a dual income house, maybe you split the bedtime duties, giving you the chance to spend SOME time with your children, after being gone all day--and just "play time" alone isn't enough or fair. I think a big way we fall down in including men into the domestic responsibilities, is for the same reason working mothers are struggling. The workforce was never set up with women or mothers in mind, and homemaking was never set up with men in mind. Now, some people will use this as an excuse to perpetuate that it shows that "a woman's place is at home", but studies have shown that over and over again, that fathers who are more involved at home make happier, more successful children. Children gain an enormous value from having fathers be just as involved in their upbringing as the mothers. And, I argue that men also gain just as much value from this. My husband is an equal partner in childrearing, and I'm in awe to see how much he has completely flourished and grown in this role. The truth is, most of us don't find fulfillment in our jobs. It's a paycheck. But a lot of us do find fulfillment in parenting. But to my point, we aren't setting men up to be successful in these roles, because men don't always think or approach things the same way as women. How many times have we had arguments with our partners because they ignored a mess, or didn't clean/do something properly, or we had to "nag" them to follow up on a chore...I know I have. But then I decided to take a step back and change my perspective on the home and family, and look at it as almost a military or corporate environment. Women don't thrive on deadlines and assigned tasks. We are better able to multitask, switch gears. To be too hyperfocused on one thing doesn't work so well when you have so many jobs to tackle at once. But men seem to work better with structure and direction. I feel like women see the big picture, and can zoom in from there, but men need to break things into smaller tasks before they can see the bigger picture. When a man retorts with "I'm not a mind reader", they are being just as dismissive to your needs and views as you would be by saying "you should just know". The truth is we are different. We were raised different, our brains function differently...but, I've found my partner excels in the household if he is given clear directions and expectations within the household. If instead of viewing it as two separate worlds, work and home, I approach it as equal sectors of one unit. Like how accounting is just as valuable to a corporation as their sales team. We are all operating for one goal, and one greater good. If your partner works outside the home, and you stay at home, then you need to view yourself as the manager of the home and delegate accordingly. How can you help your partner in their work day, and how can they help you in yours? You are on the same team. If you both work outside of the home, then you both need to take equal responsibility for the domestic work. You are both managers of the home, how can you support each other? What does one person do better than the other? Being passive aggressive because your spouse doesn't naturally see what needs to be done like you do, doesn't help anyone. Your spouse becomes defensive, and never learns, and feels out of place in home where you have inserted yourself as manager instead of an equal partner.
5. Other people’s choices don’t discredit yours no matter what they say. -- Everything seems to be a targeted attack these days. People can’t seem to live in a way that makes them happy without you feeling threatened by it. If a woman is happiest at home catering to their husbands whims, that has no effect on your choice to be a stay at home dad. One is not a threat to the other unless you begin to feel superior to another. That the way you choose to live your life is so superior you want to control the narrative and influence personal choices of others in your life by attacking someone else to lift yourself up. I can’t help but ask myself who is benefiting from staging us against each others? Definitely not the mothers. Lumping one group as “those people” keep us divided. Each side more extreme in their POV echoed by peers and targeted social media. We have been fed that it's an "us" versus "them" issue. That one side is pushing us back into the stone age, and undoing all the progress we have made in the feminist movement. The other side feels attacked for finding joy and value in living a life at home and as a mother, that society has stopped valuing their contribution...really, society as a whole hasn't changed much in the past 40 years. The workforce has more working mothers than ever before, but work culture and regulations have not changed to accommodate that. We have to change to accommodate them. SAHM's have always existed, but we have not elevated their status to show the equal contribution they have in our society. In the end, society is still just exploiting women. A capitalistic profit driven society benefits more from more people in the workforce. I think we are all angry at the same thing, a lack of choice and a lack of respect. Women fought hard to enter the workforce and gain independence and equal rights so that we could have the CHOICE of what our life would look like. But are choices are still being under attack. Being a SAHM or a working mum is no longer a choice for a lot of us. We are being goaded into believing one is more valuable than the other, and that's just not true. If you find peace and fulfillment at home, that doesn't make you any less educated or independent of a woman. And if you love your career and thrive in your work, that doesn't make you any less feminine (because apparently we can't be feminine and work anymore according to some...) or as good of a mother. We are humans and multifaceted and cannot and should not be defined by one singular role.

This ended up being some sort of weird feminist manifesto, which isn't want I intended, but I guess I had a lot to say on the subject. I suppose I'm just scared at how well social media has gotten at dividing us. Social media isn't inherently good or bad, it's a tool for connection, but now even mothers are being pitted against each other. We all know it takes a village to raise a family, but we've pitted the village against each other. We are too busy claiming we are "under attack" from our peers, when we're just puppets--they want us to feel "triggered", and I'm glad. Because now I'm triggered, but it's not at the "trad wife" who is harkening back to a world that never existed, but at the people who are instigating this. Who are filling women's heads with this nonsense, and trying to box up our "values" or what "femininity" means...what it means to be a woman and mother. Because being a woman and mother has meant a lot of different things throughout history. We control our own narratives. We need to stop insinuating that our way is the "right" way, or that society is faltering because women are no longer "feminine" or because women want to go back to staying at home. All of this is "right", all of this is "feminine". Being a woman can mean whatever you want it to mean, and being a mother just means loving your kids and doing your best everyday.
***NOTES: I know this was a very hetero/cis centric post that focused a lot of perceived gender norms that excludes the same-sex or trans families...even single mothers. It was written as a reaction to a "trad wife" trend that is extremely hetero/cis centric, so my reaction to it is from this perspective as a hetero/cis mother. However, I know these values and views totally effect all families no matter what they look like. So, I just wanted to put it out there that I see you, and would love to hear your voice on this as well.
Also, a lot of sweeping generalities in here as well. These are broad sweeping statements and generalisations based on societies general assumptions about genders and family life. Right, wrong or myopic, it's what we live in. My point in all this IS that every family and every person is unique, and that we can't keep functioning under the assumption that there is only one way or one family dynamic out there.

So I have some family drama... side info: my stepbrother had to leave the house 15 years ago because my sister claimed he touched her, afterwards she explained she wanted it so she basically ruined our family, she once claimed my stepdad touched her as well, wich was also a lie. She then left our family to live with a boyfriend she knew for 2 weeks. My mom wanted her to come home after a party she wasn't allowed to go but instead she stayed at his and got scared to come home. So basically my mom told her she could live at his.
The boyfriend she went to live with (she was then 20 or something, me 16) turned out to be pretty oldschool 'men don't do any houshold chores, the woman does it all'. Is what she claims... but after her pathological lying history I don't know what to believe anymore. She got knocked up and had a son that has been spoiled by his grandmom (dad's side, he basically lived with her) and his parents on the weekends (she still barely looks after him).
Fastforward to 14 years later, we get a call after not hearing from her for 12 years (I always tried to contact her on her b-day and on christmas, but she never picked up). She wanted to leave him, she was afraid he would do something to her. Me (shortly living at my parents again after breaking up with my boyfriend) and my parents get very worried and do everything in our power to help her figure out how to leave. It took us a year to convince her to come to us on a day she could get off of work that he wasn't home either (he was unemployed due to ptsd as a prisonguard).
My mom owns a 3 bedroom house that she rented out and became free again so she decided me and my sister would go live there. Me a student who works a part time job to get by did not have a say in this (with only 1000€ a month and average studio rent being around 650€ could not find something on my own). My mom decided we would pay 800€ rent in total a month. In the beginning we agreed to pay 400 each since we each had our room (I decided to give her the main bedroom which is the largest because I wanted the room with built in shelves for my art supplies).
After she got shared custody of her son, he came to live with us every other week (I don't have and don't want kids) I like my quiet after coming home from a hard day at work at the store or my unpaid internship). After this custody we decided she could pay 3/5 of the general costs like water and electricity, since her son only lives with us part time. But I discussed with her that she would also pay 500 euros for rent and myself 300 since they get 2 bedrooms and I only have one. (Because when you get housemates you each pay per room).
She agreed at first but then discussed it with my mom, who for some reason is not okay with this. She told my mom to tell me (not even stand up for herself, the older one) that she doesn't agree.
My question is, AITA for making my sister pay more because they rent 2 rooms and I only rent one?

Need some advice and perspective on how to handle this.
There was back and forth about organizing my eldest daughters birthday party because my ex husband wanted to organize it after I had already told him it was organized and I planned/organized and paid for the younger two children’s parties held in end of Feb and beginning of April.
Last week he agreed to go with my plans. This week I get a message to say our daughter (12) has asked for his girlfriend and her children to attend the birthday party. The party is at an art studio and she had asked for only her class to attend, specifically telling me she didn’t want her own younger siblings to attend. My ex husband then proceeds to say our daughter told him ‘she is concerned that mom does not know them.’ followed by ‘I can appreciate that it can be difficult for you that they will attend but can you please add them to the list of attendees.’
Its not difficult for me to be around this woman or her children. It’s awkward because my ex husband hasn’t introduced her to me. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to not want this woman I don’t know at my daughter’s birthday party that I’m hosting and paying for when my daughter has said she doesn’t want her own siblings to attend?!? I have moved on post divorce and I want to be able to enjoy my children on my weekends. There will be about 7 children from my daughters class at the party, it’s a drop off event and I am taking them for ice cream afterwards as my daughter asked for that instead of a cake.
This is the background.
Our marriage ended 2 years ago, separation happened in Feb 2023, he met his girlfriend in July 2023. He met her children in October 2023 and wanted to introduce our children in November 2023. He and I were in coparent therapy at the time and the therapist said absolutely do not introduce the children to your girlfriend. Coparent therapy broke down when he was caught recording our sessions, he lied about not agreeing to things which I then showed he had agreed to and no progress was being made. In this coparenting therapy process it became very clear it was toxic, emotionally violent and the therapist advised it was best we parent as separately as possible.
Come mid Feb 2024, he messaged me to say ‘I would like you to know the children met ‘the girlfriend’ at the park. This was the first time they have met.’ Total lie. She met them via FaceTime in December and he made sure she spoke with the children each week they were with him. My children told me this. Four weeks later he introduced the children to her children. I was not told of this by him but the children. I decided to say nothing to my ex husband because it’s none of my business for as long as our children are ok.
April 2024 my ex husband shows up to our daughter’s soccer game (school based team playing outside of school) with his girlfriend and her two boys. It’s awkward because I have my daughter go over to say hi and return to ask why I don’t introduce myself. Well, it’s my weekend with my children. I don’t appreciate my ex husband thinking it’s ok to show up on my weekend with his girlfriend and kids and then manipulate my daughter to ask me why I don’t walk over and introduce myself. Daughter is 12 and I don’t know a 12 year old who would say ‘why don’t you introduce yourself’ on their own. At the last soccer game of the season, two weeks ago, I showed up, expecting to see the girlfriend so I could introduce myself, and she wasn’t there. The following day my daughter told me they slept overnight at the girlfriend’s house. As a parent with 50/50 custody I was shocked he hadn’t told me ahead of time providing me with the address of where the children would be overnight.
The whole thing is one big circus which I really don’t want to be part of. Any sane parent would wait a year before introducing a new partner. They would also set up an opportunity for me to meet the person they are dating before introducing them to the children. I have been perfectly pleasant about his girlfriend with the children when truthfully I think the pair of them are behaving atrociously with zero regard for the welfare of the children involved and my ex husbands behavior towards me is incredibly controlling and abusive. I later found out from other parents that his girlfriend has only shown up on my weekends. My heart breaks for my daughter because she is being used by him to create the opportunity for her father to justify asking me to invite his girlfriend and her two children when he isn’t paying for it nor hosting the party. Our daughter of course doesn’t know this.
Reading this, I want to minimize the drama from him in my life and my children’s. Not sure how to best achieve that.