Free retirement sayings to a elementary school secretary

We need an “Entitled People” flair! Because this is definitely that.
I (41f) have quite a doozy of a story for you. I would normally tag this as an AITA, but let’s be honest, I’ve spent the last 4 years asking that of everyone I know, including therapists, and the answer is no.
Ok, this whole ride starts back in 2018, when I was 35. I had moved to the Midwest in 2017 for a travel job where I traveled 45-50 weeks a year. I had managed to get myself to a point in the company where they were willing to let me live anywhere and fly me out from there, so I wanted to move back to my home city where I had a bunch of friends. I was making amazing money, so I was able to afford my own place without roommates. However, my best friend (Dee, 33f at the time) was not making that kind of money at her job and she wanted to live in a specific place so her daughter could go to a specific school for K-8. She needed financial help, and I liked the idea of having someone around so there was food in the fridge when I got home at 11pm on Friday nights from a long flight. She asked me to move in with them, and I agreed. Her mother, her husband, and her daughter lived with her. Again, I was fine with this. I was only sleeping there for 1.5 nights a week. I had one room and I paid half of the rent. I shared a bathroom with her mom.
For a year I put up with a lot, and I acknowledge that a lot of this was on me. I’m a recovering people pleaser, after all. I paid for most meals when we went out. (I accept full responsibility for this, I didn’t want to eat alone and she couldn’t afford it.) I gave her money for groceries I didn’t use because I traveled for work. I helped her get her car back when it was repo’d, and a rental car with points that I had accumulated from travel for work. (She did pay me back for the funds I sent when it was repo’d.) I was often bullied and verbally abused by her mother, who was only nice to me when I gave them money.
By December of 2018, I was done. I started looking for 2/2 houses to buy. I wanted to live on my own, have my own space. I found a few and mentioned it to Dee. She immediately assumed I meant we were moving together and started sending me 4/3 houses. Again, I will take responsibility for this. I didn’t tell her no. At the time, it seemed easier not to start a fight. I was sure she would be mad if I told her I wanted to live alone, and I knew (and she made it quite clear that it was true) she couldn’t afford to live without me. I found a house that was a bit out of budget, but I could pay for myself without help, which was my only requirement. I refused to let myself get into a situation where I would default if I didn’t get her rent payments. It was a 5/3, so we had plenty of room for all of us. Even her mother, who was an unwelcome but permanent fixture in my life at this point.
Despite owning the home, all my things were STILL in my room. Their belongings took up all the common space, including the garage. And I don’t mean it was well decorated and nicely designed. I mean it was piled up around the house. I have pictures. I was still constantly bullied and berated by her mother. I was expected to watch her daughter for free at her whim. She would run to the store and not tell me she was leaving the kid. I was expected to pick her daughter up from school, take her to dance. I helped pay for dance frequently. I was still buying groceries I didn’t eat. I was paying for a house keeper just so that I could feel clean in my own house. A house I had no space in.
Let’s get to July 2020. I was five months pregnant, my fiancé had moved into my room in March 2020, along with all his stuff, we had gotten registry gifts and baby stuff. We had taken over the only room that had any space, and moved all their stuff out. There was still stuff in the closet in the nursery. I knew that I couldn’t go on like this. I couldn’t baby proof the house, I couldn’t fit her new things because theirs were everywhere. I didn’t want my baby to even MEET Dee’s mother. Ever. So, the week after the 4th of July (I was visiting with my family and talked through this with them), I asked her to move out. I gave her till mid-October. I waived all rent for August, September, and October to give her the funds to pay for a security deposit and movers.
She did not take it well. She stormed off, then texted me and called me terrible names. She said terrible things. Things that I didn’t feel I deserved and I told her that, I had helped her, taken care of her daughter, paid her way for over two years. I was allowed to be selfish for the sake of my daughter, and I was standing by that. She left with a friend and came back even more angry. I knew this would break us, but after that I didn’t really care.
I continued to watch her daughter at home for free. I helped her look at places, offering to keep her daughter if she needed to go alone. I still paid for groceries. I stopped buying her dinners. I was done. Her mother said horrible things about me on social media. I blocked her.m and anyone in her circle that tried to come for me. I continued to gift Dee things throughout her moving process. Shelves, furniture, games. She proceeded to weaponize her daughter, saying that I was kicking out the child and having her ask me why she had to move repeatedly.
She got keys for her new place September 18th. It took her over 4 weeks to move out. While I was in the hospital having my daughter in mid October, her last load of stuff left the house. She wasn’t the one to move it, a mutual friend did (and cleaned the house from top to bottom for me while I was having my baby).
On November 27th, it all exploded. I noticed that she had unfriended me on Facebook, so I messaged her. She accused me of betraying her, kicking them out, and dropping her and her daughter. She accused me of forcing them into an apartment during a pandemic, of turning my back on them. She accused me of being selfish. (Which, fine, I agree with. I wanted my family to live in my house without having to squeeze in around someone else’s things.)
Her mother messaged me hateful things. Truly toxic. She told me to stay away from her family. I blocked her immediately. Dee wasn’t far behind. I blocked them and I didn’t look back. That’s what they wanted.
I wish her no ill will, but I will never consider letting her or any of those loyal to her back into my life.
As of today, as I write this, she is just someone I used to know.

(the title is from my mom's pov, we were talking about it a few days ago)
for context, i used to be a pretty energetic kid, tried to put others' good above mine, i never did anything to hurt/harm her, i spent a lot of time wondering what i did wrong and how i should've handled it
this happened about 8 years ago, a friend (if i can even call her that) that i knew since kindergarden started to treat me bad during elementary school, i.e. made fun of me (said my ears looked weird and that made me insecure), belittled me saying i wasn't smart enough (based on the supervising teachers forcing me to copy after her, they were meant to help us with hw as part of their salary as an afterschool program)
but was seen as a good kid, since we both grew up "without our dads in our lives"
one time the girl pulled my hair and when i was crying (first time when mom saw something was wrong, she came to pick me up when it happened) she talked with the supervising teacher and said teacher shrugged, kids will be kids
another time, we were outside (again, those teachers were getting paid by the parents for supervising us) and she and a few other afterschool classmated threw rocks at me
now, this is where the title comes in: mom saw me getting hit with the rocks and confronted the teacher, she told me initially she wanted to beat the kid up (which, i don't condone violence, but she was getting out of hand)
again, teacher with the kids will be kids bull, and nothing came off it since she had no other alternative (following year i was taken out of the afterschool program)
(and no, not once had she seen anything wrong with her behaviour nor apologized, i tried to be on good terms with her in the following years (we were in the same classroom from kindergarden till grade school), but every thing i told her (and only her) came up in conversations with other people..)

Like the title says I'm 47 years old and divorced for five years. In that time, I haven't been on a single date. After the divorce, I went back to college earning an associates, and next year, my bachelors in Film Production . I'm a war veteran and retired chef from New York. I now live in Los Angeles and I'm so goddamn lonely. I tried all the dating sites. I've tried meeting people in all the traditional places too. Thought I'd possibly met someone at school, she's my age and she started inviting me to social stuff. I didn't make a pass at her or anything. She invited me to her birthday this week and when I showed up, she introduced me to her boyfriend. It left me feeling very deflated. I'm 5 foot seven , bald, and a little pudgy, but I'm on Ozempic and it's helping. Even when I was in phenomenal shape two years ago, I couldn't get a woman to look at me. Is it my age? I don't think I'm ugly.

(the title is from my mom's pov, we were talking about it a few days ago)
for context, i used to be a pretty energetic kid, tried to put others' good above mine, i never did anything to hurt/harm her, i spent a lot of time wondering what i did wrong and how i should've handled it
this happened about 8 years ago, a friend (if i can even call her that) that i knew since kindergarden started to treat me bad during elementary school, i.e. made fun of me (said my ears looked weird and that made me insecure), belittled me saying i wasn't smart enough (based on the supervising teachers forcing me to copy after her, they were meant to help us with hw as part of their salary as an afterschool program)
but was seen as a good kid, since we both grew up "without our dads in our lives"
one time the girl pulled my hair and when i was crying (first time when mom saw something was wrong, she came to pick me up when it happened) she talked with the supervising teacher and said teacher shrugged, kids will be kids
another time, we were outside (again, those teachers were getting paid by the parents for supervising us) and she and a few other afterschool classmated threw rocks at me
now, this is where the title comes in: mom saw me getting hit with the rocks and confronted the teacher, she told me initially she wanted to beat the kid up (which, i don't condone violence, but she was getting out of hand)
again, teacher with the kids will be kids bull, and nothing came off it since she had no other alternative (following year i was taken out of the afterschool program)
(and no, not once had she seen anything wrong with her behaviour nor apologized, i tried to be on good terms with her in the following years (we were in the same classroom from kindergarden till grade school), but every thing i told her (and only her) came up in conversations with other people..)

I'm a huge believer in public school after my terrible homeschool experience. I also recognize schools are underfunded and lacking resources. My son's in kindergarten and for the most part is great. His teacher and all school staff are lovely, and he's thriving. But we have 2 issues. One is he's so advanced in math that he's bored during the math portion (class is adding numbers together that make 20, he's doing multiplication and division for fun at home) so now he says he hates math, and I don't want him hating something he excells in. Other issue is one kid in the class that has violent outbursts. My kid has started having violent outbursts at home, and while I believe it has more to do with stuff happening with his dad (my ex) I also think he's learned some of the behaviors from this kid.
So I have these real issues that I'd love to get other parents perspectives on, but anytime you mention problems at school it turns into a free for all of home school moms justifying their abuse

AITAH My bestfriend (Rose/ F/21/) and I (Luna/ F/22) have been bestfriends for about 7-8 years now. But I’m thinking about ending it. But I’m not sure how to do it. I love her, but ever since we were younger she has been incredibly cold and aloof. Mentioning to me that she likes to mess with peoples emotions and use there “weaknesses against them”i thought it was weird but kinda through she wasn’t serious and was just edgy. I learned to love her through time, although she had mentioned on pervious occasions she was only using me til she gets out of high school. She flirted with my boyfriends a lot growing up, and put me down in front of guys all through my life. Making fun of my periods, and saying I copy her makeup and fashion. (I do not she is grungey emo and I am very much that coquette (?) style) as I grew up I became very active within my community. I go to college to get my drs in history/ art history, am very involved in political movements, and am in general just very apart of current events. She is not, she likes to game(over watch) with her online friends and is the opposite of me politically. She’s made fun of me for going to school saying college is for idiots. She also has a serious drinking and weed problem which makes me worried about her health. We think it’s a sort of therapy for her bpd but she won’t get it checked out. Although we have made it work for some time I feel trapped within the friendship and don’t know what to. We had a huge blow up recently because I got in a fight with a girl who use to pick on her. It was a political argument but besides that it was personal because she use to bully rose. I had sent my text I send to the girl to rose, but deleted the girls text as I had deleted her message on inta before replying as I believed I didn’t wanna reply then changed my mind when I became more heated and thought over it rose took sides with the girl and told me I was being “fucking dramatic” and When I called her out for being a bad friend she essentially told me she hated what I was growing up to be, and she doesn’t need me because she had better friends. I told her I’d side with her over everything (which I did as I let her and her boyfriend stay in my one bedroom apartment rent free for months as they took over my entire house and made me pay for all there groceries and I did all there cleaning.) . She then mentioned my bf cheating on me and called me stupid for even arguing with her as I am delusional for saying with a shitty guy. (My bf has been in therapy, and done a lot of healing. It was 3 years ago and we worked passed that) he has always been very kind to her and even got her a apartment and helped her get into college which she got kicked out of within a month. I then told her I’m disappointed with her as I thought she was a better person and began to ignore her. Then she turned around and texted me 3 days later saying “i’ll be more mindful about the shit i say around you and think before i just speak whatever pops into my head, okay?” This is right after ignored her because she confessed she had feelings for me…I have no idea why she said it. But I think she was drunk.I don’t feel better…I know I am very outspoken. But I’m not sure I wanna be friends with someone like this anymore. Im so tired to ask her to be a normal best friend nd end to me. Is this normal? Am I the douche or asking too much?

This is based off a post I saw somewhere else, and I thought it could make an interesting mental exercise where you'd have to think about what's the most important to you and how your goals would change based on the amount of time you had.
For the sake of this game, you'll know with 100% certainty that you'll be dead after your time allowance is up. There's no "but what if I only think I'll be dead in six months but then I'm not and I fucked up my entire life?" When your time is up, it's up. You'll be dead and won't have to live with the consequences of your actions.
So just for fun (and growth, maybe?) here's mine:
If I had 24 hours to live: Realistically, I'd know I wouldn't be able to accomplish anything of substance, so I'd just focus on pure pleasure. I'd go out and do something fun, maybe go to the nearby theme park in the city I haven't been to in a while or an expensive night club and wear my favorite outfit. I'd eat and drink whatever I wanted, and however much of it I wanted. When I got back home I'd take something to keep me as calm as possible and call/text the people I care about who live far away to let them know I care about them. I'd spend my last hours in bed watching a comfort movie.
If I had a week: I'd go on a road trip with my entire family to somewhere I always wanted to go to, maybe LA or somewhere similar, and spend the rest of my days there. Probably my actions would be pretty similar to the above, I'd just have slightly more time to do bigger things and say goodbye to people in person.
If I had a month: I'd quit my job for sure (for the top two, idk if I'd even bother to formally quit, I'd just stop showing up) and again, probably act fairly similar to above. I might try going to another country like Italy or Japan to see what it was like and try their food, but I don't think I'd want to die there. I'd also try and maybe finish something creative before my death, even if it was just a short story or a few poems.
If I had six months: 100% quitting my job and putting all my energy into finishing my long term writing project and having fun. I'd use my savings and hire a cleaner to come in once a month to take care of boring everyday tasks so I have as few distractions as possible.
If I had a year: Same as above really, but I might also try and experience a brief romance before the end. Probably wouldn't be able to truly fall in love but hopefully I'd at least meet someone cool.
If I had five years: I wouldn't quit my job, but I also try and find something better and something that would be fairly undemanding. I wouldn't be making any big career or life plans, but I would try to write something and get it professionally published before I died. I'd want to leave having made my mark on the world in some significant way.
If I had ten years: I'd probably quit my job ASAP to go back to school, while trying to find a relationship and work on my creative projects when I had free time or after I was done. IMO ten years would be super hard for me because it's long enough to where I'd definitely want to build a life but short enough to where I'd really have to haul ass if I wanted to make that life come to fruition.
If I had twenty years: Honestly, I'd probably be doing exactly what I'm doing now just with even more anxiety lol.
So yeah, feel free to add yours!

I’m a 17 yr old female who is ok at art and or creating things so I get asked from family and others to do stuff art related for them a lot. I usually don’t mind and do it for them sometimes for money and sometimes for free so they’re pretty comfortable asking me for art favors.
(Since I don’t want to ramble too much I’ll get to the point) My sister K (30) asked me to do my nieces J (8) artwork for her school contest so she could win. I told her no because I don’t feel comfortable being used to cheat so my niece could win a contest when she could draw something herself and it would feel more rewarding if she won that way. After that she totally blew up in my face saying that I didn’t want to do it because I hated her kid and that since I’m her auntie I should just do it.
A little context before I show why you might think I’m an asshole: I love my niece but her mom hands everything to her on a silver platter. She could ask for the clothes off some girls back and her mom would give it to her. Now because of this I have gotten into lots of verbal arguments with her mom about how spoiled she was and how her mom just pretends not to see it so ever since then she’s just concluded that since I “didn’t have as much stuff as her” I was jealous and hated her kid.
Because of all of this I still refused regardless of what she said and I told her “The world isn’t fair and she has to learn that. If she doesn’t win this art contest it won’t be the end of the world she’ll be fine” She flipped out some more and then told my mom who flipped out EVEN HARDER. I was called selfish and weird but imo they’re the ones who asked me so I have a right to refuse.
I know depending on who reads this I’m gonna sound like someone who just needs to suck it up but I swear it goes much deeper than this post.
I know reddits a ruthless place which is why I’m asking y’all…AITA?

In a free market order, one may only acquire property via 3 means: 1. Original appropriation of mixing one's labor with some unowned object

1. Voluntary exchange
   
2. As restitution due to a crime.
   

Most of the time, firms pursue capital accumulation via voluntary exchange. A firm can urge all that it wants that people should surrender property to it specifically - preferably freely by having cosumers just donate directly to it -, but if people simply do not do it, then the firm will not receive any monetary profits. Thus, in a free market order, economic growth will entirely depend on if customers allow for it. If all people become ascetics who could not be inticed by any commericals, that will immediately be reflected on the market structure. Whenever the profit streams are not profitable enough, the smartest thing to do for an investor is to liquidate the firm while it's at its greatest worth. End of story.
If you were someone argue that people can reliably be made to purchase goods which they "don't really need/want" via manipulation and thus reliably increase corporations' growth rates, I would be suprised if you also happened to also argue for mass electoralism which precisely preys on lacking impulse control (demagogery). Surely one would then want to reduce jurisdictions' sizes such that the impacts of peoples' lacking impulse control was reduced?
That economies have grown have been because it has directly correlated with satisfaction of peoples' desires. However, there is nothing inherent in such growth that entails that e.g. Funkopops have to be produced for the sake of e.g. keeping some peoples' jobs or making the GDP line go up. If the profits to derive from a market have been emptied, then corporations liquidate as to be able to have their assets be used elsewhere, such as for personal use.

Mainstream economics urge for GDP growth dogmatically!

This is an excellent occasion to underline the difference between Keynesianism and genuine free market advocacy as seen by the Austrian school of economics. Our current economic order is far from libertarian and free market: if it were, you would expect the powers that be to promote Austrian-economics, establish laissez-faire and not promote the dogmatic accusations against free markets that Statists say.
GDP is a Keynesian invention created during an era of increased State-planning, which the Austrian School of economics frowns upon. Statist economists, for whatever reason, indeed promote GDP growth without question and to attain this end acquires property via illegal means, see neoclassical macroeconomics and e.g. the Military-Industrial Complex.
Perhaps that libertarians and leftists can put aside our differences and consert our efforts in striking at the current wasteful and immoral economic order in order to free up resources for ends which the people actually desire?

Hey there guys, in about 20 days i finish pretty much the biggest chapter of my life so far, school, and i feel really empty, drowned in nihilsm unwillingly. But lets take things from the beginning. I was born 18 years ago, and pretty soon i realised that i was just 'different'. I always 'knew' certain things about my life, i remember for example being around 5 and saying stuff like "i dont want to have any job, thats slavery" or "The idea of god is stupid". Throughout my childhood i was pretty odd, to the point that i now think i have autism and probably ADHD ( not diagnosed, probably never tasted either). Now, regardless of these things i feel pretty normal nowadays because i have found ways to work around my awkwardness-shynness and just my habbit of ignoring people or shying away from them. With that being said, before i could understand that i was odd i struggled a lot with social interactions. I havent been invited to parties in the last 8 years nor have i celebrated my birthday with friends. Never been to a sleepover, i have spent every single weekend of my life alone,never been in a relationship (though i have made out once with a girl, but also girls find me quite attractive in general apparently, i have had multiple to ask me out but i rejected them because i didnt like something about them, very trivial like their lips). Im probably not the greatest guy, i havent learned to love, i cringe seeing people hugging each other sometimes and i think that people dont like me by defult. Inside though im very sensitive and i care, and i really fucking need a real hug. My family situation is probably better than avarage but i dont care, i really only care about other people idk why. I just wish i wasnt who i am sometimes, but i really fucking like who i am as well which is contradictory, but i feel like most people are just stupider than me. I wish i was more stupid and care free, ignorance really is bliss. I have not had a 'good' friendship in almost 3 years now, nobody ever texts me and right now im lonely in my bedroom like evey other night. Im not really looking for much advice because i think ive heard it all and also i have made several attempts posting this kinda stuff but it never gets attention, so i guess im kinda giving up. Btw throughout all this ive never thought of suicide, im too scared of death for that lol. Any advice is welcome but i just think it wont really help me (i hope it will though) I edited for typos :)

My sister seems like the worst person in the world to me and I need some outside opinions on this. Right now, I'm a minor in middle school, I would not like to specify my age, and the sister mentioned in the title is 24. My oldest sister is currently 26. I'll call the sister I really hate Sarah (24), and the other one that I really love Katie (26). As more context, Katie works a great job in a big city, she's super independent, and she treats the family to lots of nice things. Sarah lives at home and freeloads off my parents. Sarah has diagnosed ADHD, depression, OCD, anxiety, and probably more that I don't know about. I understand that when she was little my parents had very different parenting styles and I know that lots of things traumatized her mostly parents and teachers. The thing is, ever since I was little, she's been the one traumatizing me. I remember very clearly there was this one time where she had locked me in her room again (she did this multiple times a week to me) so she could yell at me about things I didn't understand. I was probably between the ages of 3-5 at that time. I remember that one specific time I was crying really really hard and as a child if I cried too hard I would have this feeling like I would need to puke. This specific time I remember my mom was banging on my sisters door to tell her to let me out, and I remember thinking if I could just throw up on her bed them she could definitely let me out, so I forced myself to cry harder until I threw up, and she let me out. Even after that, she would still always shut me in a room with her, and since my parents told her that she wasn't allowed to lock the door with only me and her inside a room, she would just hold the door shut and I couldn't open it because she was 10+ years older than me. Even today I hate being in the same room as her alone even with the door open for that reason. From when I was in preschool to probably 2nd grade in elementary school, she would always argue super loudly with my parents, specifically my dad, and she would always scream at him to divorce my mom and I just remember it was really scary. In recent years, her depression has been bad, so I've been trying to help out. When she needs food to be cooked, I cook for her, and when she moved back to our house from her apartment, she didn't do any work and it was just me my parents and my oldest sister moving her stuff for her. This is important because of an argument we had today. My mom was helping me clean out my room because my cat had been sick so we decided to deep clean my room to have a better environment for her, and while my mom was wiping stuff down, I was fixing a waterbottle, which was a task I had put off for months. She walked to me, told me to help my mom, and then got mad at me when I told her I wanted to finish fixing my water bottle first. For context for the next part, she always yells at me about things I do wrong and how I'm so entitled all the time. I understand that the way I'm raised is very different than the way she was because my parents have changed a lot in 10 years. I hate it when she yells at me, I can't even defend myself or say anything back, and if I ever say something mean to her she can't take it because she's struggling with mental health and it impacts her so badly. I don't get it, she always tells me to tell her what she can fix, and when I do, I admit I say those things at not the best times like during argument and stuff, she gets so pressed about what I say. Apparently its ok for her to insult every family member, but they can't say anything back to her. (mostly me and my dad, she always yells at him about how my mom always does all the work around the house, which is mostly true, but I also see him putting in an effort to take on chores. He does work until 6-8pm every day, but my mom is almost the only one taking care of me. My sister acts so proud of herself when she drives me to class, which I'm grateful for, but then she insults my dad for not doing it. As a literal freeloader, I don't get why she thinks she gets to insult him so so much. I am a feminist, I get what she's saying, but my dad is far from the horrible man she probably sees him as.) I've been struggling with suicide ideation for around 4 years, I've always hated school because it kills my creativity and it makes my life feel like a never ending cycle, and I always use home as my safe space. Sarah ruins the safe space and makes me unable to enjoy my own home. She is a huge part of why I literally don't want to live. The argument today escalated because when she called me entitled and lazy for not helping my mom with cleaning my room, which I did previously, I had just stopped to fix my water bottle when she had started talking at me, and so I said she can't speak on that because when she was moving back to our house everyone in the family helped move furniture except for her. She got so angry, told me that I was throwing her depressive episode in her face, and told me I was demonizing her mental health. I understand that depression is hard to handle, I've had two friends go to both hospitals and recovery places for depression and attempts. I completely understand that depression stops you from doing things, but I don't think that those things should just be ignored either. It's ok for her to not be able to move her own things because of depression, but I don't think its ok for her to preach about it to me and call me a horrible person when I bring it up. I'm not blaming her for having depression, I'm just calling her out for being a hypocrite. Another problem I have with her is that she's always trying to parent me. When I was little, whenever she was crying and sobbing and screaming I always brought her water and tissue paper, but she did nothing for me. I remember Katie always taking care of me when my parents were to busy with Sarah. I love Katie so so much, she does so much for me, she inspires me so much, and whenever she raises her voice at me it's because I'm in danger and whenever she lectures me its because I actually did something wrong. I always listen to Katie because I always feel like she's qualified to tell me things, because she's a great person and I know she will never tell me to do something that she herself cannot do. I don't think Sarah is qualified to take care of me. I hate how she tries to act like a big sister to me when I'm literally ashamed to have the same last name as her. I don't know what to do, I can't get away from Sarah because she still lives in my parent's house, has no job, and has not shown any sign of a plan for her future. Please help, I just want to stop letting my life be this impacted by her.

So we all thought that Glitchtrap was the digital consciousness of Afton, then the Mimic came along and threw everything off. Now we think that Glitchtrap is just the Mimic mimicking Afton’s behavior. However, I think that Glitchtrap could still be Afton’s consciousness hooked up to Help Wanted. Now I’m going to pull a Candy Cadet and tell you a story.
Vanessa was working for Fazbear Entertainment on their new VR game. She knew this really was just a big cover up, but she was powerless to do anything about it. She had an inexplicable interest in the history of Freddy’s. More specifically the mysterious killings and the unidentified murderer that ruined Fazbear’s brand. One day, when she was testing the game, she noticed something strange in the corner of her eye. A purple tape on the track in the introduction section. Once she collected it, she entered the main hub and saw it. The green figure of a humanoid rabbit costume was standing in the doorway. It didn’t look like Bonnie. She wanted to notify management, but once she listened to the tape, she wanted to take matters into her own hands. And besides, it’s not like management was going to do anything about it anyway. Vanessa continued to collect tapes. As she collected them, she learned what had actually happened to one of her coworkers Jeremey. Management just said that he had an accident and had to be put out of work. But it was so much worse than that. He cut off his own face with a paper cutter! She needed to find out why he would do that. But each tape she collected, the rabbit would come closer and closer. She noticed more details as it came closer. The costume looked hand sewn and very low tech. And that smile. It was so unnerving, yet somewhat comforting to Vanessa. Once she gathered 15 tapes, the woman on the other side told her to stop collecting them. But she came this far and her curiosity got the best of her. She found the last one and was surprised by the switch of mood the person on the tape had. She said that bring the tapes together was the only way to get rid of whatever this virus was. But that was not correct. Venessa unknowingly brought together all of the parts that this thing needed. She tried to manually face this virus, and it seemed to have worked. The game ran nominally, minus the weird green rabbit plush in the hub. But as the days passed, Vanessa began to hear voices in her head. She would spend more and more time in the game. Coworkers said that on occasions, she would be found talking to herself when the headset was on. She had the ability to communicate with this virus. It told her to make an in-game rabbit mask, and she obeyed. She didn’t know why, but it was like she couldn’t help but obey. She had the mask and the plush, so now she could have an actual conversation with this being. It explained that it was William Afton, and that he was trapped in this game to escape death. But that was impossible! Mr. Afton died many years ago. Fazbear’s higher ups said that he retired and lived the rest of his life in his house on a hill. But he told her his fate was much, much worse. He was so close to death, but he had a safety measure. He figured out how to copy part of his consciousness into a circuit board so that his memories, thoughts, his very essence can live on in case anything happened to his physical body. Vanessa remembered that the game scanned old circuit boards to expedite the process of making the VR game. That must have been how he appeared in the game. He also explained that he was the one that killed all of those kids back in the day. Vanessa couldn’t believe it. The co-founder of Fazbear Entertainment was the man behind all of these slaughters? At first she was horrified, but then she felt a sort of happiness. In some sort of twisted way, she found it funny that a man so bent on making children happy was the one that took the lives of so many of them. She knew in the back of her mind that it was wrong, but she couldn’t help but laugh. Over time, Vanessa, now given the new name of Vanny by Afton, continued to complete tasks for Afton, because he couldn’t do them in his predicament. She was reluctant to say the least about doing these things, but Afton’s influence was so strong that she couldn’t say no. One day, she quit being a beta tester for the VR game, and instead was hired on to be a security guard for the new Mega Pizza Plex. In this position, she would have access to areas that were of importance to Afton. More specifically, under the Pizza Plex. The entire building was built over an old Freddy’s location. The one where Afton’s body still is. Vanny was tasked with finally freeing Afton from his digital prison and creating a new body for him. While this was happening, Vanessa’s coworkers took notice of her odd behavior. From her spending a lot of time in the basement, to her incriminating search history, it was clear that she needed help. So management sent her to therapy. There, she was always so distracted by that voice in her head. She would talk and answer questions, but if the therapist ever got too close to knowing the truth, Afton made sure that they were silenced. Vanessa didn’t want to do it, she just wanted a way out. But she was in too deep. It was finally time to put Afton’s plan into action. To do this, Vanny needed some way to create a new body for Afton. She read through old files and eventually stumbled across the solution. Deep under the Pizza Plex, in the storage section, held the key. An endoskeleton that was specifically designed to mimic things. It has the ability to mold into any animatronic costume. All Vanny needed to do was activate the robot, and transfer Afton’s consciousness into the robot, which will be in Afton’s old burnt costume. But after she turned on the robot, she got a bit preoccupied with Freddy and a small child. They could hinder her plans, so she had to go and stop them. But when the kid stepped out of Vanny’s hideout, she could feel a weight come off of her shoulders and the voice’s suddenly stopped. Vanessa was unknowingly freed for Afton’s control. Without Afton’s puppet, he is stuck in VR indefinitely. However, the robot that was supposed to be Afton’s new body is now freed under the pizza plex. The program that was inside it initially is still there and still dangerous. Vanessa knowing this, goes back with the help of Gregory and Freddy to trap the Mimic in the basement. But the Mimic heard Gregory’s voice, so now it has a tool to escape. Vanessa now feels like she is finally free from this horrible nightmare.
That was my interpretation of the Glitchtrap/Mimic/Vanny story so far. Sorry it was a long read but I think it’s worth it. I’d like to know your thoughts.

I remember a kids book from elementary school it had these cute but slightly creepy drawings in it that used real items and drawings and it had different sayings like "you wear your heart on your sleeve" and such. Does anyone remember this book? It was my favorite I checked it out so many times would love to have it again. Thank you

I remember when I was a little girl I would look in the mirror and just be so disappointed, in my mind, I was ugly, stupid, and poor, and it broke me completely. I would get bullied heavily in elementary school not only because I was poor but because I was chubby, while I ate lunch kids would stand by my desk and make pig sounds at me, oinking and calling me butterball. They told me I had meth head teeth. The only thing I liked about myself was my freckles but that brief feeling of liking myself soon disappeared when one boy told me it looked like I had shit splattered on my face.
I was eleven when I began to diet, whiten my teeth, and wear makeup. My teeth naturally straightened out on their own and I shed the weight with the help of heavy restriction, not without developing an obsession over how I looked. When I was twelve, boys began to notice me, I broke my nose and in doing so had to get it straightened out so I could breathe properly, no longer did I have my father's Roman nose which I so despised. I wanted desperately to be like the girls who ignored me and to be liked by the boys who bullied me for a little baby fat.
Because of this obsession, I didn't believe people when they told me I was pretty. Compliments always felt ingenuine and I naturally assumed boys were asking me out as a joke so I turned every single one down out of fear of humiliation. Deep inside me something seethed, I wasn't satisfied with the weight I had lost and begged and cried until my mom shared her Ozempic with me. I was thirteen.
Still, I could describe in detail the way I picked apart every flaw, the way I had autopsies on past conversations, searching for a new insecurity. One day I went into my dad's toolbox and stole his roll of duck tape and wrapped it around my waist. I was amazed by how beautiful I looked, my waist was the smallest of all the girls at my school and this felt like a victory. I tailored my favourite sundress on my mom's sewing machine to fit my brand-new waist and wore it to the first day back from summer break.
Everyone turned their heads to look at me, I thought that only happened in the movies until I strolled into English class with a waist the size of a tangerine. I shoved lies through my teeth about a gym and diet plan I had done over the summer to make myself look so small, my friends listened with eager ears and wide eyes trained on my midriff. The attention was more addictive than any substance I've put into my body. My friend had told me how the boys were talking about me and how they planned to ask me out, that's when I made up my mind.
It felt like a poison I happily drank, knowing all of the risks. Every Sunday after church I walked to the Dollar General by my house and bought five rolls of duct tape, two dollars each for one week of classes, ten dollars in total. The same woman was always there and she always smiled at me, asking what I did with all of the tape, my face would split into a sickly sweet smile as I told her a new falsehood every time.
My mother would comment on how she didn't want me to go anywhere by myself because I was too pretty to do so, this was like pouring gasoline onto my forest fire. In the morning when everyone was sleeping, I wrapped one roll of duct tape around my waist so no one could hear the sound; I took it off before my showers at night, water running as pain pushed tears from my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek until I could taste iron flood my gums. I was left with cuts and tears in my skin, flesh tender with torture, still, I mummified my body every morning with duct tape. Sometimes I would do my thighs if I wore leggings or skinny jeans so people would comment on my impressive thigh gap.
After a year of doing this, my midriff looked like a piece of raw steak beaten with a meat tenderizer until it was almost torn apart entirely. I wouldn't even let people touch me in fear that they could feel through my attempt at perfection. I started skipping church. Every weekend I shut myself inside so I could breathe at full capacity while I shut my blinds and stared at my ceiling, my mind went numb with the impending doom that I would suffocate myself with that dreadful silver tape when the bell rang. My whole life I had heard that beauty is pain and that's all I thought this was, I thought that models did similar things and it was just something I had to accept to be beautiful.
Essentially, I had turned into a zombie; my breathing was shallow, and I became pale, clammy, shaking, and nauseous. I couldn't stomach meals. Every night I would wake up around midnight and cough up my guts but I hadn't eaten any food so there was nothing left in me to vomit but bile and eventually blood. I stopped talking to people, I thought it better for them just to look at my pretty long lashes and my tiny little waist than to listen to me tell them I was fine through shaky breaths. My dad was so scared for me, he kept bringing food into my bedroom and would come to collect the uneaten dish when he dropped off the next. He couldn't look at me without crying. It was just his drowsy gaze piercing into my vacant skull while we both swallowed back what we wanted to say, the words dying in our throats, never to be heard.
Everything hurt all of the time, it didn't matter anymore whether I had the duct tape on or not. I almost preferred the feeling of it on so the stinging of the cuts and the soreness of my ribs was shielded by something. One day in PE the teacher asked me to sit out so I did. I tried my best to keep my vision straight and my head up while I watched the other kids play California kickball. It was okay until there was a suffocating feeling, like something was consuming everything in my body like tiny creatures with razor-sharp teeth were cutting their way up my organs. My body began to convulse as I coughed until I fell to my hands and knees, coughing up this invisible force in my throat. The game stopped abruptly and every pair of beady eyes turned to watch me writhe in pain on the dusty gym floor while I clawed at my chest and throat, eager to tear the skin off completely.
Mr. Duke jogged over to me, crouching down to my level and putting a hand on my back. With furrowed eyebrows, he asked what was happening and with nothing more than Ozempic running through my system, I screamed at him to get away from me. That final wave came like a million little hands of wind pushing at the back of my throat until I heaved up the very last of what was left in me. Hands flew over mouths while some gagged at the sickness once inside of me. On that floor was a pile of what looked to be red coffee grounds in a little puddle of cherry wine. I was as terrified as anyone else in the gym, I screamed between heavy sobs while scuttling away from the mess I had made.
I knew that this was the end of me, that I would be taken to a hospital and everyone would know what I had done. I didn't even need to go to the hospital for everyone to know what I had done. Once I had collected myself and began talking frantically in a hushed circle of my friends while we waited for the ambulance, one boy on the hockey team caught a glimpse of shimmering silver beneath my gym strip and snuck up behind me, pulling my shirt up and revealing the secret I carried like a cross I had to bear.
My back laden with strips of duct tape like it was armour was on display to my entire class, my shame shown to what I had perceived to be the entire world. The girls didn't find this so funny but the boys came up with the name of Tape-Face. I remember rushing to the locker room with my friends following close behind, I grabbed scissors from my pencil case and began to cut it off myself, ripping it away madly along with little segments of flesh. My friends watched in horror, they just stood like it was a game of wax museum and I was the security guard there to punish whichever moved first.
In the hospital, I couldn't face my parents, not even the doctor, I kept my eyes locked on my lap. I couldn't see their stares but I could certainly feel them digging into me like a frog on a dissection table. My mom was utterly speechless and my dad spoke only through voice cracks and subtle sobs while he brought me soggy sandwiches from the cafe on the first floor.
I took another week off school because I could predict the painfully true rumours and when I finally set foot back into the school, it was worse than I anticipated. I felt hideous, like a pig that had been chugging back lard in my t-shirt, sweatpants, and perfectly average body. My friends were hesitant to eat around me and tiptoed around the incident like it had never happened which almost felt worse than bringing it up. Others were not so kind. A group of kids, guys and girls all mixed together, the kind that stole cigarettes from their parents had waited until I came back to sneak away from class and cover my locker in duct tape. Over top of the tape they scribbled on a dictionary of names they would call me in the hallway "Tape-Face" "Fraud" "Botched" "Duct tape Barbie". One of the girls sat behind me in math and had cut little squares of duct tape to stick them into my hair, I called my mom in the principal's office and cried while the secretary had to cut it out of my hair.
My dad made the decision to pull me out of school, so I started homeschooling but that didn't stop the harassment. We lived close to the school and during lunch and after school kids would throw duct tape wallets and wads of tape onto the porch. My dad's final straw was when someone dropped off a Barbie whose waist and thighs had been wrapped in duct tape in our mailbox. He had contacted not only the school but the parents of the kids several times with no avail to the torment ending anytime soon. He moved us to a new town where I could go to class without anyone knowing the pain I subjected myself to for two years.
I'm in college now and I've never told anyone this. I've cut contact with everyone from that school. One of the bullies tried to reach out and apologize, blaming her behaviour on mental illness but that felt like she had shattered a plate and said sorry, thinking that it would put the plate back together. I told her I didn't forgive her and blocked her. A boy from the hockey team also messaged me, the one who flipped my shirt up. He said he just had a daughter he couldn't imagine her going through what I went through and that he's sorry for what he did. All I had to say was that I hope she doesn't have to go through what he put me through either.
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I’m 16f, 145 pounds, and 5’6, which means that I’m technically a healthy weight, but I don’t look good at all. I live a very sedentary lifestyle and don’t exercise at all and am very inflexible so I need to get in shape for many reasons. I also (of course, given my age) struggle with insecurity about myself and have for as long as I can remember. I have never been happy with how I look. Sorry for the rant, but I’ve been saying I’m going to get in shape for almost a year now and knowing I’ve needed to since elementary school. Something needs to be done
TLDR: I don’t know how to work up the willpower to make a habit out of exercising and dieting.
Despite this, I can never bring myself to start getting in shape. I know that I need to. I know that I should eat less than 1200 calories a day for a calorie deficit and that I should go on the treadmill to lose body fat and I should stretch before I go to bed. But I don’t do it. And some days, I do go on the treadmill. But never more than 3 days in a row, and then my willpower is gone, and I can’t get myself to start up again. I don’t know what my issue is.
But on top of that, I don’t know how to diet. I’ve spent my whole life eating as much as I want to and I have a pretty big appetite. So I know that I should be eating smaller portions, but they just don’t fill me up, and then I feel urged to eat more, because I’m used to eating until I’m full. I prefer eating nothing over eating smaller portions, because then I’m not tempting myself with delicious food without satisfying myself. I know that fasting is bad and all but I know that if I didn’t eat for a long enough period of time I would lose the weight so I always feel drawn to that idea. However, fasting has only ever led to rapid weight loss and then rapid weight gain in the past, which obviously only makes things worse.
But I also can’t really control what I eat that much because I’m a teenager. I don’t shop for myself and I have no means of doing so because I can’t walk to any stores and I can’t drive. I feel like I can’t really diet or count calories when my family isn’t too because they control what I eat. The only person I know with a strict diet is someone who can walk to grocery stores so he can control what he eats.
And it’s an immature problem, but I also just have an intrinsic hatred for exercise and I don’t know what to do about it. I hate exercising and every activity that involves exercising so I never get any. I hate knowing that in order to be pretty, I have to exercise every day for the rest of my life. I suppose that is likely part of my willpower issue.
Anyway, people always say that the first day is the hardest, but I have done many first days and find that the hardest part is continuing. I tell myself that it’ll start to come easier after a few days but I’ve never gotten more than a 3 or 4 day streak of going on the treadmill. And the only diet I’ve ever been able to keep up for that long either was complete fasting. I have so much hatred for myself and the way I look, but despite that I have no motivation or willpower to actually make an effort to change. And there’s no one in my corner to keep me accountable or help me. Everyone I know just tells me I look fine and I don’t need to change and that I shouldn’t worry about getting exercise or counting calories but I honestly wish they would tell me to get my shit together instead. It’s like all I can do is complain about being ugly and never do anything to fix it.
If anyone else has felt the same way or has any kind of advice I would really appreciate it. I’m not sure what help posting here will do but I need to do something. Thanks in advance.

SS 18 invited me to graduation around December. Called his Dad last week to "uninvite" me. We already purchased plane tickets to travel to his state, which ss knew.
Apparently I'm supposed to go and sit in the hotel during the ceremony or something. I feel like that's demeaning.
This ss is super manipulative, entitled, and parentified (makes choices regarding parent's finances, which of their vehicles (surprise , he chose his older brother's car because it was preferable to the other free car option), expensive private school for him, not the older brother, tells not asks what he's going to do regularly since 12 at least), and always used to getting his way. Period. He is very used to trying power plays almost anytime he can, even in rearranging our furniture , or kitchen in his summer visits to how he prefers (how mom has hers).
His dad says he knows he's trying to pit us against each other but still will never use boundaries and just gives in. Every time. I say he's trying to make his dad choose between us, and he needs to not let him. It feels like he's going to allow him to step between us and create separation just at a whim whenever and I don't choose to let a kid have that control over my life, relationship. Seems like a good way to never know where I stand, and like our relationship is subject to have plans change not by what the two of us choose, but by the intervention of his kids (both adults now) by way of his lack of boundaries.
I feel like he will never have my back or stand up for me. Or as my counselor said when I talked to her "he has no allegiance with you". Basically, that I need to leave, stand up for myself.
Am looking for other people's input here please.
Would you:
A go on the trip, but not go to ceremony
B. Go to ceremony, as previously invited directly
C. Go to it, but dress like Cruella DeVille or Peggy Bundy or something else ridiculous. (dad's joke suggestion, not mine. He said he's going to wear patched overalls.)
D. Not go at all
E. Walk away altogether. Find someone who honors you also and doesn't treat you as if you're irrelevant. Or
F. It all. Being single is the only way to have peace.

I am a black woman. I have been 19 for a little over a month now. I was raised in, and live in, an area with a very low black population.
My preference has changed a lot over time, which is something I’ve more recently started to think about.
The first crushes I remember having ever had, like when I was preschool-elementary school aged, were on Michael J Fox (when he was Marty in “Back to the Future,” may be more accurate to suggest that I had a crush on Marty mcfly,) and Michael Jackson (my parents had his music videos on DVD. I’ve never liked the way he looked in the 2000s, but I think when I was little I liked the way he looked in the 70s-90s. However, in sixth grade, I remember remarking that I thought 80s Michael Jackson was more attractive than 70s Michael Jackson when chatting with my former best friend, who had the opposite opinion.)
My parents have also always liked to tease about how I “dated” a white boy when I was three, claiming that I liked how blue his eyes were. What I find interesting now that I am an adult is that me liking blue eyes and blonde hair (the combination that I believe the kid I liked when I was three had, though it was much too long ago and I don’t remember how he looked or really anything about him at all,) is something that I’m not sure has entirely gone away.
I say this only because in 11th grade, I was already fascinated by/somewhat attracted to a boy I sat next to in Statistics because of his blue eyes and blonde hair, even though I hadn’t yet seen him without a mask (and when I did see him without a mask, I still liked his appearance. To me, he was a little above average.) There was also a mixed race (1/2 black 1/2 white) boy who was considered to be conventionally attractive by most of the grade who I was very attracted to in 12th grade (fawning over him in the halls kind of attracted, which is rare for me,) and he had both light skin and colored eyes (I no longer remember his eye color, though I’m certain it was blue or green.)
In 4th grade, I had a crush on a Filipino boy who I was no longer attracted to by high school (he was a nice person, though, which was partly why I’d liked him so much.) In 6th grade, I had a crush on a 1/2 white 1/2 Japanese boy (he didn’t look fully phenotypically Asian, but didn’t look “white” either. I don’t know what I thought he was. By the time we were in high school and I was perhaps more familiar with different phenotypes, I could see how he was mixed with Asian. But off the top of my head, he may have looked more similar to a Mexican/Latino person.) In 7th or 8th grade, I was either attracted to or had a crush on an Asian girl (she was not considered above average, she had apparently been teased about her looks in elementary school - she was at a healthy weight, at the time her look worked for me but at some point in high school I saw her again and she was subjectively unattractive to me.)
In 10th grade during quarantine, I started to crush on an older above average looking black man who had been kind to me in 9th grade (in this case, the attraction may have actually been reciprocated.) I also had a crush on an average looking white girl, was overweight (may have been a little below average, I don’t know. I also liked her in 10th grade. I was very lonely and depressed in 10th grade.)
I had a crush on David Bowie throughout all of middle school. I remember listening to his albums “Hunky Dory” alongside “Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.” I loved Jareth from “Labyrinth.” (I was also a big fan of stranger things in middle school, and thought Finn Wolfhard was cute during the second season. I hadn’t really noticed Caleb McLaughlin and found him attractive until I became an adult.)
I will note that I was very attracted to Tim Curry’s Dr Frank N Furter maybe four-five months ago after seeing “rocky horror picture show” for the first time, even though I’m not really attracted to most white men anymore. It was just the energy he exuded.
I had my longest strongest crush on another light skinned mixed race (1/2 black 1/2 white) boy in high school, although he was a bad person. He was slightly above average physically, though he became average by 11th grade and I no longer liked him because he had criticized my appearance behind my back. He had dark brown eyes and I was very into him between 9th-10th grade (crush continued after online schooling had begun,) because I felt he was the only person who noticed my depression, and liked that he wasn’t dismissive of me yet (he later on sort of became dismissive of me after I messed up during a public discussion. I think he’d been curious about me because a friend of his told him I’d been known as smart in middle school.)
In 11th grade, I dated an overweight black boy who I had regarded as average (he was dark skinned. Some may subjectively regard him as a little below average due to the weight and racism, although I remember thinking he had a very common looking face, straight teeth.) I do regret the relationship, he was a bad person. But he was my first sexual experience and this is likely why I know now that if I have another sexual experience, I’d ideally like for it to be with a darker skinned black man (or a Mexican/Latino man, just someone who I suppose has darker skin than the average white man.) It’s strange because before 11th grade I didn’t tend to think sexually about men often, it used to be women but I haven’t felt attraction toward a woman in three years.
I know that I am not attracted to most white men, as someone who lives around a lot of them.
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So I recently had a falling out with a close friend of around 2-3 years over something very trivial but I don’t see myself becoming friends with her in the near future or maybe ever as she cannot take accountability for her actions and i’m always apologising for her shitty behaviour (I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say sorry or take accountability before lol) and also because she’s completely insensitive (We fell out due to her basically making fun of people who needed financial support for school knowing I needed support lolol) as she got offended when I said “I hope they don’t give you the bursary over me” assuming she would understand if the last bursary was between us (we’re both going to a uni that gives out very limited bursaries like ofc I want us both to get bursaries but if we were the last two duh I would want it for me and I would expect her to want it for herself over me). I didn’t think she would take offence as she made fun of people needing bursaries for college that morning, bought an Iphone 15 a few weeks prior, knows i’ve been poor for my whole life and is aware she hasn’t been through many struggles financially and family wise. And I admit what I said was rude but the more I think about how priviledged and easy shes got life I don’t feel guilty and actually i’m just really mad- I mean you mustn’t need a bursary that bad if you’re okay with making fun of people that need them so sos not sos idrc.
But that’s not the predicament, falling out with this girl has made her completely try to alienate me from OUR friendship group, removing me from gc’s and making new ones, not speaking if i’m around, trying to completely ignore my presence or make me seem alien around them. Which is fine, but my issue is that the other girls in the friendgroup don’t say anything? They’re VERY passive- they don’t reach out to me, they don’t say anything or try to make me actively feel included when she’s around or in general (granted I have not been in college for a while but it takes 5 secs to text me). And It’s made me realise these people cannot be real friends like real friends aren’t just going to sit passive while one of their friends are being ostracised especially as one of them admitted to understanding why I said that. However there’s one girl who does actively try to reach out to me and she actually reached out to me today just asking how I am (I think partly because she knows that my mum is going through health issues so probs out of pity) and that’s fine but I’ve been thinking of cutting her off and the entire friendgroup off because even if she’s reaching out she’s still being passive in the overall situation.
So what do you think am i being a bitch by distancing and cutting them off or do I continue to try and remain friends with them? I can elaborate more if you have questions as these aren’t the only reasonings but I need to go iab. Feel free to flame me if i’m being a bitch.

I'm gonna give a little ⚠️content warning⚠️ here as this experience involves violence that resulted in deep rooted trauma for me.
Hi! I'm new to the reddit community but definitely not new to Charlotte's channel. As soon as I heard her mention this subreddit I RAN🏃🏻‍♀️ to download the app because I love sharing the wild sh*t that has happened in my life! Let's start with an oldie but a goodie because I got an invite to my 10 year high school reunion recently.
I grew up and attended high school in the Appalachian mountain area. There was still, of course, cliques like there are in any public school. I never really claimed to be part of a specific "clique" though. My style was "dress as punk as my Christian mother will allow me to" whereas the most popular style was Justin boots and Carhartt jackets at the time. Anyway, we would sometimes get out of our last class early if there was an "in-school" basketball game scheduled. My best friend at the time met up with me after class so we could sit at one of these basketball games together. We were sharing earbuds, listening to her iPod, when I was tapped on my shoulder by a girl standing behind me. I recognized her because we had classes together in the past but we were never close. We'll call her Becka I guess.
Becka proceeds to ask me why I was "talkin' sht" about her? I tell her that I had no reason to do that because I barely knew her, which was the truth. She walks away from me and my friend and goes back down the bleachers to talk with her group of friends. While it is a small town, I didn't even know this girl's friends well enough to be "talkin' sht" to them about her. Becka approaches me a second time to say "I KNOW for a fact now that you've been talkin' sh*t about me so why are you lyin'?" At this point I was annoyed, so I rolled my eyes and gave her the same response. Before she could say anything else I put my headphone back in to ignore her. I then watch her buzz all around the bleachers talking to everyone and not so subtly gesturing toward me.
BECKA APPROACHES ME A THIRD TIME. She sits one step above me in the bleachers to lean down and smack my foot that was propped in the seat in order to get my attention. I take out the headphone once more to ask what the f*ck she wanted, because at this point I didn't think she would escelate the situation any further. "My friends literally told me that they heard you talkin' shit so why even still lie about it?!" she asked. As soon as I turned my body away from her, she saw her chance and she took it like a cheap shot at the local pub. She pulled my head back by my hair and started hitting my face repeatedly. I had never been in a fight before in my life, so I was stunned to say the least. We later found out that not only were my glasses broken, but my nose was fractured and my tooth was chipped. My mother, infuriated, dealt with the matter legally as we didn't have the extra money to fix these things ourselves.
For those wondering where my "best friend" was during all of this, she was right there equally as stunned. I don't blame her for not jumping in to help me, but I blame every single student in that gymnasium who witnessed a girl being attacked by another girl, and chose to pull out their cell phones to video the incident rather than getting an adult involved. LITERALLY. ANY. ADULT. The whole student body and faculty were there. I made it all the way out of the gym into the commons area before a teacher seen my bleeding face and followed me to the bathroom to demand I explain what happened. I held it together until I got into the bathroom so no one would see me crying out of pure embarrassment and anger. I appreciate that this teacher was doing her job to the best of her ability by taking me to the front office to speak with the principal, but that only resulted in Becka getting suspended for a few days.
As soon as she was back in the hallways, she had convinced her whole group of friends to bark the word "snitch" at me every time they saw me. THAT is bullying. Being violently attacked is FAR WORSE than bullying. I say this because I saw a post in our 10yr Reunion event page that made me absolutely cackle. It reads:
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m aware there are people with mixed feelings about having our high school reunion. I’m fully aware some don’t want to show up because they don’t want to face people that bullied them in high school. I understand that completely. That is your choice you’re allowed to make. However, with that being said we are all grown adults now. Each and every one of us was also bullied in our own way. No it’s not okay. No it’s not acceptable. We all regret things in life when it’s too late. This is a chance to possibly get that apology you’ve always wanted. This is a chance to really get to know the adult version of our high school self. We’ve all changed in so many ways!! I’m proud of each and every one of you guys!"
I didn't expect anyone to acknowledge my specific situation in that post. Honestly, no one may even remember it because it wasn't them being traumatized in that moment. Anyway, I'm choosing not to attend because I've thought of every possible conversation I could have at this event, and none of them sound appealing to me in the slightest. If anyone wanted to befriend me after high school or see what I'm doing with my life, they could easily do that through their phone screen as I'm very present on most social media.
To conclude, I'm not sure if you'd classify this as petty revenge or just life taking a horrible turn, but I was told that Becka now enjoys doing dr*gs in her free time (meth to be exact)! I'm going to refrain from saying anything else about that because I personally feel yucky joking about addiction as I have two family members struggling with it themselves. Anyway, thanks for letting me dump my tea here!☕

So im a senior in high school, and there's this kid i had known since elementary school (let's call him gerald) and we live in the same small town so we had always been at the same parties and events. I just turned 18, so i had literally known this dude for my entire childhood. Our parents were friends, and my 2 best friends' (both girls) parents were friends with his parents as well. We had never been super close, but were always friendly. Around 6 months ago, we started texting a lot. After a few weeks, he started complimenting me a lot. He would send me paragraphs about how i was such an amazing person and i was so beautiful and smart. Then, he started telling me about the comments. At his lunch table was my ex bf ( let's call him john). Now john and gerald sat at the same table, and gerald began texting me all of these weird 🌶️ spicy 🌶️ comments john was making. Then, came the paragraph. Gerald sent me a paragraph that another person at his lunch table had supposedly said (let's call him joe). This paragraph was the most horrible inappropriate thing i had ever read, and it made me so upset and uncomfortable. He told me about 5 other people at his table who had said things like this, and i lost all of my confidence and i was just very uncomfortable around these people. When one of my friends started talking to joe, i was worried because i didn't want him to hurt her, so i thought one of my other friends who was very close with gerald should make sure what joe said was true , because the friend who was talking to joe insisted that he would nvr say anth like that. When that friend texted gerald to ask if it was true, he said "no". He had made up EVERYTHING. The only things that were true were what john had said, which we all could've assumed because i had heard about him saying things like this way before i had gotten close with gerald. So, i got home from school that day and immediately told my mom what had happened and showed her the screenshots (ofc i had screenshots). She then called his mom and explained why we couldn't hang out anymore, and to make sure we stayed separated and didn't attend the same events or carpool together. His mom apologized a million times over, and both his parents are livid and he's grounded for life. Since he got his phone taken away obviously (and either way i had blocked him the day i found out he had lied about evth) his parents made him hand write a letter apologizing to me. I did feel bad, because i had gotten him in sm trouble and don't know if i overreacted.