Primary school powerpoints on weight

Just wanted to share some positive musings! I've (32F) been with my partners (41m/39f) for over 7 years now and the journey we've had makes me so happy to call them my life partners and co parents.
They were already trying to conceive with their first child when we started dating, and I actually ghosted them on our first date! But I gave it another shot and I was happy I did-- within two years we were living together and I was preparing to learn how to be a good partner to these new parents.
As our relationship grew, I also grew into the role of a co-parent. But I also realized how much more growing I had to do myself.
It wasn't until we moved for one of my partners careers that I felt ready to become a mommy myself. Starting a new chapter in a new city just made me feel like we all grew closer as a family. So when I fell pregnant, we were all thrilled.
I was so lucky to have my best friend and partner also be my pregnancy coach and co-parent. I feel like it gives us super powers. Kind of like the saying that it takes a village to make it work; and we've basically created our own little village.
I recently took over as a school chaperone for our oldest, and brought our youngest along as a tag along so that my partners could leave town on a surprise vacation for the two of them. We just got back from the trip, exhausted, but the two of them are still on their little mini honeymoon for 3 more days! It's definitely hectic without them, and I cannot wait for them to be back, but it also makes me love our life and our ability to surprise each other, give each other time off, and share the weight of parenting.
I also think I love giving surprises, so really I'm mostly proud that I pulled off chaperoning a kids trip and also pulled off an awesome trip for my two life loves.
Next time though, we are going to get a nanny and the three of us will get some much needed time off together!
Thanks for stopping by and reading!

Im 27M, lifting since mid 2023 and have been doing starting strength and looking to transition to gzcl now for something new but not too different. Imo im naturally weak (i was the absolutely 0 sport, 14hrs of video games per day during school holidays kinda kid) so i basically started from the bar for all lifts except deadlift. These are my prs (all 5RM):
squat: 105kg/231lb
bench: 63.5kg/140lb
ohp: 42.5kg/93lb
deadlift: 157.5kg/347lb
weight: 80kg/176lb -> 93kg/205lb
i was making good progress on squat but purposely stopped at 105kg (i couldve gone further) because i felt like it was gimping my bench progress by tiring myself out, so i maintained my squat in an attempt to improve my bench. At some point i just stopped doing ohp so i could increase my bench volume which worked for a short time, but eventually got plateaued at 63.5kg.
I am decently tall (183cm/6ft) and with a very large arm span (196cm), so bench and ohp have always been a massive struggle for me (evidently by my lift ratios lol). Ive been losing motivation and have been working out less frequently recently, so i need something new that has a greater focus on upper body. I came across gzcl which seems similar enough to starting strength in terms of lifts, but adds extra volume and accessory work which i think will help me.
With this context, i have a few questions:

1. i see the basic workout guide gives T3 exercises as alternating lat pulldown and db rows. are there better accessory exercises i can use to specifically improve my bench/ohp?
2. are you just meant to do a single T3 exercise (of 3 sets) per workout?
3. How difficult are T2/T3 exercises meant to be? I did my first workout of gzcl today on the T1 bench/T2 squat workout, and holy shit 10x60kg squats were killing me by about rep 7 being totally winded (but legs feeling fine). Is this just a thing ill get used to because of only ever having done 5 rep sets on SS? on a similar note, how hard should i be going on T3? should it be as difficult as going for a pr on T1 or should i take it a bit easier?
4. I always wear a belt on heavy squats and deadlifts, but should i wear one on T2 squat/DL? is this a personal preference thing?
5. Ive still been making linear gains on 1x5 deadlift, adding 2.5kg every 5-7 days without any issues. Would there be any issue substituting this into the gzcl T1 deadlift days? its working and i kinda dont wanna fuck up my momentum by introducing higher volume deadlift that im not used to. i still plan on doing t2 deadlift as programmed.

Any other general advice is welcome too, thanks
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I just started a new leaf in the last two weeks after years of putting it off. I got a cheap no-contract gym membership, a decent pair of sneakers, and started going two days on, one day off. I only work out for an hour, an hour and a half at most This consists of 75% cardio (mostly walking and occasional jog/run intermittent), and then I do like 3 sets of 10 with light settings with the long row, tricep press, seated leg press, glute kick back, torso rotation, and rotary torso machines.
I’m sweating all the way through but I’m overweight and I’m on lithium and have PCOS and hypothyroidism. I need to lose weight, simply put. However, now I feel like I’m consistently irritated with my partner on the off days. I’m speaking my mind more and it’s starting to feel dangerous to my relationship. I’m happy after I work out but is it worth it? I don’t want to hurt my partner or become unstable and I don’t want more meds, I’m on an insane cocktail other than the lithium as it is. I stopped drinking, smoking 🍃, all of it. I just want to be healthier. At first I kept asking him if I seemed (hypo)manic and he said no, but I’m afraid I’ve created a self-fulfilling prophecy kind of disordered thinking here.
I don’t know. Maybe I’m in fight or flight because my older brother is in a bad spot (former felon with addiction relapse and is potentially losing his housing) and I’m feeling a lot of pressure to help him but I don’t have anything that’s mine due to my own episodes. I don’t have a job. I’m in school but I’m almost done and it’s so hard to find a job right now, especially if you don’t have a car and have shitty credit and all your other family members who could have co-signed with you are passed. My partner won’t share financial things like with me because of my mental health history.
I feel stuck, and scared, and alone. My brother was supposed to be the one I could fall back on, but now he’s so vulnerable and needs me, and even though I’ll do whatever it takes to responsibly help him, I can’t rely on him to help me back.
I do therapy, go to the doctor, and I wanted to exercise to get even more stable, but it feels like everything is falling apart. Why would exercise, and so little of it make it worse? How are people with bipolar supposed to be healthy?
I don’t know, thoughts are appreciated.

I’m 14, freshman in hs and I might be going legit insane. It all started in seventh grade when I was introduced to a group of girls who all had Ed’s. I was never a big kid, more on the slim side but jus like these girls I started to starve myself. I lost abt fifteen pounds and was extremely skinny. During the summer we stopped hanging out and I got a little better. In eight shit got worse tho, I broke my arm so I couldn’t play sports so I found worse outlets. I started to starve myself again and these girls only got more aggressive with the starving. I decided since I couldn’t play hockey cuz I was injured I would jus be a manager, which was stupid cuz the girls I would meet that managed led me down an even worse path.
She introduced me to vaping, LSDs, Molly, sneaking out to the city streets, andhow to get wit older guys. I was only getting skinnier plus I was high all the time and felt like I was having the time of my life. That was until one of guys I liked two grades above me, was friends wit the girls “sneaky link” she set us up on a two man. From there I learned he was the plug and started dating. He ended up lacing on of my carts and from there I was paranoid to smoke again wit that group and broke up wit him. She said I was lame, embarrassed me at school, and that group stopped being my friend.
I was forced to withdrawal and now I turned to binging for comfort. I went from 105 to 130, playing sports again but not really caring and my grades are better. Sadly, at the end of my hockey szn I met this boy, he was 18 but he was a wrestler, I really liked home because he wasn’t like the other guys, he always treated me nice, I stopped binging again and started losing weight when we got close. He wasn’t a great person but I felt like he matched me, he was also kinda a druggie and illegal scammer. I would trip acid wit him a lot and spent a lot of time wit him. This ended. Abt a month ago when he went on his senior trip, blocked me, and started dating a girl his own age. Prettier, blond, and older.
I knew it was over but continued to do drugs and began to binge. My parents are never home, they don’t care. I’m only 14 and my life feels like it’s alr in fuvking shambles. I’m trying to get adderall because maybe it will help wit the binging and make me think abt my decisions better. I hate myself I want this to end

extreme weight loss in a short time
preface: i gained about 60 pounds from 2020-2023. for reference i am a 20 year old, 4’11 female so i was left overweight. i know that i have always had body dysmorphia but never considered that i could have an eating disorder. i thought that my eating issues were just not extreme enough to be considered a disorder or that if i brought it up then i would just be asking for attention. i see pictures of me from years ago at 100-120lbs and cannot even imagine how at that time i thought i was fat. it makes me really upset remembering how disappointed i was with my body when now i look at those pictures and think that i was perfect.
about two years ago i started looking for treatment for ADHD, depression, and anxiety. and for the past two years psychiatrists only thought my mental health issues (not eating disorder) were due to depression and not ADHD. so i tried many ssri’s that didn’t work. i was finally diagnosed with ADHD a few months ago and got prescribed adderall. i have had an addiction to adderall for the past two years, hence why i wanted to be diagnosed with ADHD for the prescription. so having that medication solved my school and depression issues. however, now there are more problems.
today: so since i have been taking adderall for the past few months, i have not noticed any physical changes to my body. but about two weeks ago i noticed that my jeans were falling off so much that i couldn’t even wear crop tops anymore bc you would straight up be able to see my ass when i sit down. i have about 4-5 inches off of my waist on my jeans and i can’t believe i only noticed it two weeks ago. i think i was so caught up in thinking that i was fat that i just didn’t even think losing weight was a possibility. i have spent my whole life without a scale in my house bc i knew it would take over my life. now that i noticed the significant difference in the way my clothes fit me i was curious, so i bought a scale. i have lost 35 pounds since this february. i have no idea when exactly this weight loss happened but it has just been a lot more lately now that im noticing it.
basically, adderall makes me not hungry all. most days now i go without eating anything and if i do eat, it isn’t anything healthy. i don’t obsess over the food that i eat but now that i know i am losing weight i can tell that subconsciously i am deciding not to eat even when i am hungry. consciously i convince myself that i am not hungry.
i love that i am losing weight. i hate that it isn’t in a healthy way. i know it’s bad but i don’t want to stop this trend. i want to get to a healthy weight and then work to keep that weight in a healthy way.
it’s difficult because now my bosses at work are starting to notice that there may be an issue. my shifts are 12-9pm and i don’t take a break to eat or take a break in general. the other day she told me that i need to take a break to eat and i said that im okay. the next day we went to dinner after work and they ordered appetizers that i didn’t eat because i didn’t like them, not because i wasn’t hungry. she asked if i wanted any to which i said no thank you. she then tells me that im a strong girl because i can hold myself back from food lmfao. but then she asks “what have you eaten today” so i just kinda laughed a little bit and go “food” LOL. the subject changed really quick by some miracle since there were a lot of other people. i think they really only noticed that i haven’t been eating because a few days ago i forgot to take my meds which made me hungry that day. i asked to take a break to get food which was my first time doing that since i started working there in february.
i feel a lot happier knowing that i am losing weight but it scares me what i could be doing to my body. i have so many things wrong with my body that have come up the past couple of months and now i am starting to wonder if it is because i am practically starving myself. i avoid going to the doctor because i assume that the issues will go away or that i can handle them myself.
anyways, i honestly am not looking for advice, i just wanted to say it somewhere since i haven’t really told anyone how bad it really is. i know what i need to do to fix the issue and i hope to go to the doctor soon. but if you feel like you want to say something, please do:)

As a collection of like minded individuals we must start completely ignoring the existence of the masses (I.E women, inbreds). And not in a superficial way, we shouldn’t disagree with them, we shouldn’t look at them and we certainly shouldn’t talk to them. They simply shouldn’t have any existence within our minds and then, I am convinced of this, “they” will simply cease to exist.
I am not perfect, perfection is something we must move toward. But because I am not perfect I feel myself ponder the idiocy of others. Or trying to explain my position to women. I am going to stop this. I don’t need to explain myself any more.
For a long time I DIDN’T believe truth and objectivity was possible. Clarity was an impossibility.
You don’t believe in truth? you don’t know what truth is? You cannot define truth? questions like this plagued my mind for hours, teachers in school affirmed these thoughts. I was young and Impressionable. I’m not perfect.
You can define truth. Ignore the intellectualism, ignore the thoughts of others, ignore your environment. You are truth, everything you believe is the truth. The world and people around you demand you to view things through endless layers of nuance, you don’t need it. People believe that a greater depth of understanding is equal to intelligence. That being an “expert” is a good thing. It is not, you will only yearn for more. I have yet to meet a professional or expert I respect, they are shackled to their field of knowledge. Unable or unwilling to view things from a broader more truthful perspective.
Looking at things through the lens of collective groups or definitions is also reductive. The “haves” and “have nots” are arbitrary distinction. I can harp on for hours about how the modern age strips meaning from us, refusing to allow us to view things from our own perspective. Being the critic is easy, finding an alternative is hard. That is what my father says.
So here is alternative, lift weights and dominate others. Physically and mentally. Your will is the most important thing, disregard morals, they box you in. Others will try and box you in, why? You ask, I say, disregard their motives. It is not important to know others unless you, personally, deem them of value.
These concepts; equality, post modernity, ideas, consciousness. Waste of time. Strive for excellence, strive for intelligence. They hate that I disagree, they say I am morally bankrupt, they say I live a deeply sad life. Either are true, I feel stronger, I’m happier than ever. What you feel is important, your emotions are important. Base your morals off your emotions.
They created industrial war, it is no longer an art. The 20th century told us one thing, humans want to kill each and strip each other from history. Everything is driven by profit, stand against profit for it is how they control you, shackle you to community. To the collective. Money and success is not valued by the number you have in your bank account. Actually the number in your bank account is directly correlated to have much of yourself you’ve given away. How you have betrayed yourself. Given in.
Success is happiness, and I am happy.
David foster Wallace once said that
“If you worship money and things — if they are where you tap real meaning in life — then you will never have enough. Never feel you have enough. It’s the truth. Worship your own body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly, and when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally plant you. On one level, we all know this stuff already — it’s been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, bromides, epigrams, parables: the skeleton of every great story. The trick is keeping the truth up-front in daily consciousness. Worship power — you will feel weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to keep the fear at bay. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart — you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. And so on”
once I heard this quote I’d decided to value nothing. But I think I misunderstood the idea behind Wallace’s words. I am not perfect. Maybe you shouldn’t worship anything. Or maybe you should worship yourself, in totality. For you, the individual, is already perfect. I don’t agree with Wallace on everything, but unlike the people today he thought about things. Had original ideas, not the endless pseudo-intellectual rehashing and slight modification of ideas that have floated through the collective ethos for years. You already know everything you need to know to live this very moment, and that is all that matters.
But the truth is I want it all, yet I am told that I shouldn’t do that. Accept my weakness, let go of my childlike desires. They say; “truth is unobtainable and perfection is unobtainable”. And do you know who says that, ugly people. They shouldn’t have an opinion anyway.

I'm sure most of Chicago/Booth/Kellogg have heard of this company by now, but they also started recruiting consultants/MBA for their other branches (T25) so I made a post.
TLDR: If you're toxic, there's more worthy places to climb. If you aren't toxic, you will either be disgusted or turn toxic. This place will tank your resume/career progression if you stay for more than 2-3 years.
Quick Intro: McMaster-Carr is the Amazon of Industrial Supplies. They ship to the US Miltary, manufacturers, engineers, technicians, etc... Their customers are the engineers but the bills are paid by the Finance Dept hence as long as McM do a consistent good job delivering to the engineers, they can charge exorbitant amount (e.g $30 screw and $50 shipping; real example.) Their margins on most items are between 50% to 250% and revenue is $5B+. This is how they can pay entry managements with 0yoe $170k (bonus included, deferred saving excluded; see more below) and middle managers (3-10YOE) up to $300k.
Path/Exit: You will get a random rotation every 6-18 months. The rotation can be literally anything from Warehouse Operations Management Role to HR to Finance/Fraud. Management Trainee (0-18m depending on your background/initial performance). Supervisor (no pay raise as MT are expected to become Sup eventually; can be skipped if you have pre-MBA exp and did well in your initial performance.) ManageSeniorM (3-5yoe/5-8yoe; most people languished here until they decided to go all in or all out with McMaster.) After this come Regional ManageDirectoVP. You can leave at M/SM and might still be able to transition to a new careeindustry afterward. Otherwise, it's a tough sale. Even before the mid-2023 general market downturn, I knew Regional/Directors who took 1+ year just to switch to another manufacturing/industrial/supplychain job. Not even an industry switch.
Their Targets: In the past, 95%+ of management came from straight out of Ivy/Top Liberal Arts undergrad. This breeds an incredibly toxic environment since many of them are not mature/don't have leadership experience (the cream of the crop don't consider McMaster) and it's a case of the blinds leading the blinds. McM had a purge of toxic leaders back in mid-2010s but this problem returned. Since then, they have tried to recruit a few more consultants rather than depending solely on fresh grads. This recruiting effort has and continued to go miserably. Despite mass reach-out effort every single year, they only got some ex-B4 (1 Parthenon but the rest is regular B4), but they couldn't get anyone from T2 or MBB.
Nature of the work: (Micro)managing individual contributors and troubleshooting outdated issues (that are only found in 40yo+ warehouses) if you get a warehouse rotation. McM tries to sell you on these, but from my post-McM interviews as well as McM managers' outcomes, these skills are worthless. For once, the ICs get paid quite well so they work very hard. Management, in an attempt to justify their outrageous salary, tries to micromanage all the time even when outclassed by 20+ years of knowledge. IC vs Management issue will be further discussed in the Cons section. Another issue is that managing blue-collar is no way the same as managing white-collar so most hiring managers don't really care for this exp. The company doesn't really do marketing, M&A, or new market (it took them 30+ years to just now opening a new branch in Texas because McM's tech couldn't handle having 6 warehouses instead of 5.) I'm not kidding. They passed on growth opportunity for 30+ years because they didn't want to change... Also because the company doesn't do marketing, they are not good at customer behavior analytics, resulting in their website redesign that took 2+ years to get scraped ater 1 week due to customer complaints.)
Pro:
• Their pay. McM has a 2.9 Glassdoor rating despite having a 4.6 rating in Compensation and Benefits. Pay include:

 •Base (0yoe: ~115k; ~$10k for each add year; ~$160k for Manager) •Profit Sharing (average 50%+ of base; lowest was ~33% in 2008 & 45% in 2020; 2022 was ~50%+ and 2023 was ~60%) •Deferred Saving (25% of Base&PS. Vest schedule 0%/20%/40%/60%/80%/100% over 6 years.) 

• Their Education tuition policy: After the first 3 months, You can take any part-time program (e.g PT-MBA, PT-MS, PT-MA) or Certificate completely free, doesn’t have to be work-related, and no string attached. You can literally leave after they paid for your tuition and can still finish your course.
Cons: Glassdoor Reviews:
• There’s another purge/headcount reduction going on right now. A tidbit is that management above your level can see the performance review of everyone below them. This contributes to how much drama, backstabbing, and rumors float internally. Recently, an ex-Trainee even wrote a long post calling out his spineless manager and backstabbing coworkers in a GroupMe with 100+ members of management. The manager left soon after. The ex-Trainee even told McMaster to blacklist his undergrad for recruiting. Absolute legend.
• The operations and tech stack are very constrained and not replicable. The company uses 80s IBM Tech for CRM/ERP so unless you’re working on a Website-related project (which you can sometimes use Python/SQL), you will be writing outdated queries to pull data. McM also doesn’t use Powerpoint so you will have to learn Adobe Indesign. The company’s warehouses themselves have a ton of makeshifts and outdated stuff. If you get a warehouse assignment, you will be putting out fires arose from issues not addressed by the original warehouse design. If you think you will be value-add to a company like Amazon after your McMaster’s experience, you are wrong. Amazon warehouses are built in the early/mid 2010s and have about 30 years of new automation/technology integrated to them. McM is still tinkering with their first automated warehouse. Experience putting out fixed/nonexistent issues is worthless.
• This company hire fake review writers. You will notice the positive reviews are all generic and one line whereas the negative reviews (from both Managements and ICs) are all super long and super informative. You will also notice that there’s no longer a “Most Helpful” sort on Glassdoor. This is because all the negative reviews get liked so much. Now it’s just “Most Popular” which is just fake reviews with 0 like/dislike.
• Relationships between Management and Individual Contributors are more fraught than ever. The situation has always been incredibly tense because ICs were viewed with incredible disdain by Management (most of whom are rich Ivy/Top School graduates) but has only gotten worse with automation and market uncertainty.
• Management’s official policy is to never promote Individual Contributors. A fresh grad (0YOE) can instantly become a supervisor but somehow an IC needed 8+ years of consistent excellent performance to be considered. Management can become Manager in as little as 2yoe out of Undergrad, whereas IC -> Manager is so rare I can count the Chicago Branch on two hands. And no, it’s not because ICs are not qualified/hardworking. Just imagine how hard it is to work at Amazon-pace for EIGHT YEARS just to be equal to a college brown-nose.
• Management’s unofficial policy is to avoid eye contact or saying hello to ICs unless the ICs initiated it. ICs were afraid to take more than one food/souvenir item during an open house event even though we had so much leftover. A manager even complained that other managers were making fun of ICs for work-place injuries (think Amazon warehouse-like injuries such as overexertion, nerve damage, wrist/knees/back issues.) Absolutely devoid of humanity.
• The company had been automating part of the Atlanta and Chicago warehouses. Managements assigned to be tour guides of these automated warehouses were told to lie say that no IC headcount reduction will occur. Obviously, there were a rise in suspicious performance evaluation after these were built. Also, I was one of the tour guides and were asked by multiple ICs where the observation cameras will be in the ceiling. The fact that multiple raised this seemingly-joking-yet-alarming question tells you just how much Management has trained ICs to become paranoid over time. If you’re a new-hire consultant at McM and feels related to this meme, just know you will be holding the mop to clean up and not the lightsaber.

i don't even know how to start this because it feels weird screaming into the internet but i'm on my second (going into third) year of uni and i feel like i have nothing. barely passed all my classes and have to take summer classes to catch up, have no friends despite being sociable with people. hell, i've tried talking to someone twice and both of those times led me to look like a damn idiot and make a huge fool of myself. i've started to wear a mask bc i've been told people are put off by my rbf and it's not like i can really help it because i'm also autistic and i can't tell when i'm being "too much". chronically ill as well, poor as shit and it doesn't help i go to a university where the majority of people's families make six figure salaries a year. even got somewhat told off by my advisor because i have no friends but i can't really help it. i had a lab partner this year where we got along pretty well but i feel like if i asked to hang out outside of class or study together or something then it just ends up with me looking like some sort of desperate idiot. i spent most of my time home playing video games, tried to join clubs but all of them were so damn cliquey and i couldn't handle the weird stares that i got. i've been trying to lose weight because i know people would better approach me if i were skinny. saw an old high school friend who graduated a year early with summa cum laude and is in their masters program while i had to take a gap year and barely making it by and i know i shouldn't compare myself but by god i feel like a dumb shit. i don't even get a moment to relax between the spring and summer semesters because i have to work. i guess it just sucks but it really doesn't seem like it's getting any better even when people have been telling me for years that it would.

Like most of us, I take on the majority of emotional and mental labor involved in taking care of my husband, myself, and our four year old.
But then on top of that, I’m a special education teacher, a graduate school student, and the primary caregiver for our autistic child because my husband is out of the house 7-7, 5 days a week for work + his commute.
Suffice it to say, I’m tired. And I don’t feel like having sex.
This has been a major point of contention in our relationship for at least a year, maybe 2. Maybe 3, I don’t keep track - but I found out recently that he does. And over this time, we’ve gone round and round in circles talking about this. I tell him that he needs to be a better emotional partner and he tells me that I need to be a better physical partner.
On top of this, we both have ADHD which means that we often fall back into patterns or go the opposite direction when demand or pressure is put on us.
Which leads me to last night. I built myself up all day to initiate after our kid was in bed and when I do he’s stoked, but right when we get started - kid wakes up and asks me to lay with her to help her fall back asleep. And when I tell yall, the GROAN this man groaned. Complete with an eye roll and he didn’t stomp his foot, but he might as well have.
Kid and I already had plans for this morning, but I’ll have to address this when I get back. If you read all of this, I’ll take any advice.

My husband is in the military and away for the next 9 months, he’s already been gone for 9 months, so 18 in total. He sprung on me on Mother’s Day that we need to try some therapy because our relationship isn’t working and he’s been holding resentment for “years”. Our communication definitely has suffered since he left, but I was completely caught off guard by how much he thinks is wrong in our relationship.
We have a 1 and 3 year old and I’m a SAHM. He says he feels like he has no say in their lives because I’m the primary parent. He also says he’s constantly worried about money and feels the financial burden of all 3 of us. He also said he is no longer attracted to me because I’ve lost quite a bit of weight since having both my children. He also said he wants me to go back to school and learn a new skill to be able to get a good job once the kids are in school.
I am the primary parent, and I carry the mental load of taking care of our entire lives. I do know them best because I’m with them all the time, so I understand why he feels secondary. But I do value his input. Kids are a financial stressor, but we do fairly well and I work a side job as well at night so I don’t understand why he feels so burdened. The attractiveness really hurt and has totally destroyed my confidence. The school thing really pissed me off, as that’s not something I have an interest in doing. I already went to college and have a degree, I did my time.
Long story long, I fear if he does not like the way I parent, the way I look, or the things I want in the future, I fear he does not love me as a person anymore. When I asked him flat out if he still loves me, he said yes because I’m the mother of his children. But that’s it.
I don’t know what to do from here and I’m so deeply hurt and blindsided by it all. Divorce doesn’t seem to be an option, I have no personal money or assets of my own, everything is in his name. And I can’t bear the thought of sharing custody and not seeing my kids for several days. I don’t think divorce is on his radar either, and will likely just live in a loveless marriage which is devastating for me and not the picture I want my kids to grow up seeing either. What do I do?
ETA: he is living with a (beautiful) woman where he is. He says it’s just a friendship/roommate because she’s in the military as well, but he’s changed a lot since he’s been gone and suddenly doesn’t find me attractive anymore. I have my suspicions that he’s denied, but do with that what you will.

im a 17f I am graduating this year, however, due to my family and finances, I decided to take a gap year, and before I do start my gap year, I wanted to know what areas I could work on until the ED1 season. (prob my first post, so forgive me for the bad formatting)
Demographics: 17f
Asian(from a developing country)
school: Public school
intended major: engineering/physics
hooks: international???
Academics: SAT: Very expensive so I wasn’t able to give one yet, but I will this summer.
Class rank: School doesnt do rank.
UW/W GPA: 3.95UW, School doesnt do honors classes so no weighted gpa.
Coursework: Took the most A levels in the entire school(Mathematics, Physics, CS, Business).
Awards: 1. International robotics competition - gold 2. Harvard MUN - bronze/honorable mention 3. National robotics competition - gold 4. several MUN awards as a delegate and a chair, national and school level 5. several robotics awards that were from small competitions, mostly region level 6. AMO 2 times silver medal 7. Computational thinking/Coding olympiads
Extracurriculars: 1. Public speaking(a few TEDxs) 2. Developed a few websites 3. Technician at school events 4. Head of coding club 5. Head organizer of school events 6. MUN Chairing a bit too many times
Last but not least,my delusional list 1. UChicago 2. GeorgiaTech 3. Vanderbilt 4. Tsinghua 5. Nanyang
I AM OPEN TO ANY ADVICES AND CRITIQUES, SO GIVE ME ALL YOU GOT, YOU GENIUSES

I'm sure most of Chicago/Booth/Kellogg have heard of this company by now, but they recently started recruiting consultants/MBA for their other branches (T25) so I make the post.
Quick Intro: McMaster-Carr is the Amazon of Industrial Supplies. They ship to the US Miltary, manufacturers, engineers, technicians, etc... Their customers are the engineers but the bills are paid by the Finance Dept hence as long as McM do a consistent good job delivering to the engineers, they can charge exorbitant amount (e.g $30 screw and $50 shipping; real example.)This is how they can pay entry managements with 0yoe $170k (bonus included, deferred saving excluded) and middle managers (3-10YOE) up to $300k.
Path/Exit: You will get a random rotation every 6-18 months. The rotation can be literally anything from Warehouse Operations Management Role to HR to Finance/Fraud. Management Trainee (0-18m depending on your background/initial performance). Supervisor (no pay raise as MT are expected to become Sup eventually; can be skipped if you have pre-MBA exp and did well in your initial performance.) ManageSeniorM (3-5yoe/5-8yoe; most people languished here until they decided to go all in or all out with McMaster.) After this come Regional ManageDirectoVP. You can leave at M/SM and might still be able to transition to a new careeindustry afterward. Otherwise, it's a tough sale. Even before the mid-2023 general market downturn, I knew Regional/Directors who took 1+ year just to switch to another industrial/industrial job. Not even an industry switch.
Their Targets: In the past, 95%+ of management came from straight out of Ivy/Top Liberal Arts undergrad. This breeds an incredibly toxic environment since many of them are not mature/don't have leadership experience (the cream of the crop don't consider McMaster) and it's a case of the blinds leading the blinds. McM had a purge of toxic leaders back in mid-2010s but this problem returned. Since then, they have tried to recruit a few more consultants rather than depending solely on fresh grads. This recruiting effort has and continued to go miserably. Despite mass reach-out effort every single year, they only got some ex-B4 (1 Parthenon but the rest is regular B4), but they couldn't get anyone from T2 or MBB.
Nature of the work: (Micro)managing individual contributors and troubleshooting outdated issues (that are only found in 40yo+ warehouses) if you get a warehouse rotation. McM tries to sell you on these, but from my post-McM job interviews as well as McM managers' outcomes, these skills are worthless. For once, the ICs get paid quite well so they work very hard. Management, in an attempt to justify their outrageous salary, tries to micromanage all the time even when outclassed by 20+ years of knowledge. IC vs Management issue will be further discussed in the Cons section. Another issue is that managing blue-collar is no way the same as managing white-collar so most hiring managers don't really care for this exp. The company doesn't really do marketing, M&A, or new market (it took them 30+ years to just now opening a new branch in Texas because McM's tech couldn't handle having 6 warehouses instead of 5.) I'm not kidding. They passed on growth opportunity for 30+ years because they didn't want to change... Also because the company doesn't do marketing, they are not good at customer behavior analytics, resulting in their website redesign that took 2+ years to get scraped ater 1 week due to customer complaints.)
Pro:
• Their pay. McM has a 2.9 Glassdoor rating despite having a 4.6 rating in Compensation and Benefits. Pay include:

 •Base (0yoe: ~115k; ~$10k for each add year; ~$160k for Manager) •Profit Sharing (average 50%+ of base; lowest was ~33% in 2008 & 45% in 2020; 2022 was ~50%+ and 2023 was ~60%) •Deferred Saving (25% of Base&PS. Vest schedule 0%/20%/40%/60%/80%/100% over 6 years.) 

• Their Education tuition policy: After the first 3 months, You can take any part-time program (e.g PT-MBA, PT-MS, PT-MA) or Certificate completely free, doesn’t have to be work-related, and no string attached. You can literally leave after they paid for your tuition and can still finish your course.
Cons: Glassdoor Reviews:
• There’s another purge/headcount reduction going on right now. A tidbit is that management above your level can see the performance review of everyone below them. This contributes to how much drama, backstabbing, and rumors float internally. Recently, an ex-Trainee even wrote a long post calling out his spineless manager and backstabbing coworkers in a GroupMe with 100+ members of management. The manager left soon after. The ex-MT even told McMaster to blacklist his undergrad for recruiting. Absolute legend.
• The operations and tech stack are very constrained and not replicable. The company uses 80s IBM Tech for CRM/ERP so unless you’re working on a Website-related project (which you can sometimes use Python/SQL), you will be writing outdated queries to pull data. McM also doesn’t use Powerpoint so you will have to learn Adobe Indesign. The company’s warehouses themselves have a ton of makeshifts and outdated stuff. If you get a warehouse assignment, you will be putting out fires arose from issues not addressed by the original warehouse design. If you think you will be value-add to a company like Amazon after your McMaster’s experience, you are wrong. Amazon warehouses are built in the early/mid 2010s and have about 30 years of new automation/technology integrated to them. McM is still tinkering with their first automated warehouse. Experience putting out fixed/nonexistent issues is worthless.
• This company hire fake review writers. You will notice the positive reviews are all generic and one line whereas the negative reviews (from both Managements and ICs) are all super long and super informative. You will also notice that there’s no longer a “Most Helpful” sort on Glassdoor. This is because all the negative reviews get liked so much. Now it’s just “Most Popular” which is just fake reviews with 0 like/dislike.
• Relationships between Management and Individual Contributors are more fraught than ever. The situation has always been incredibly tense because ICs were viewed with incredible disdain by Management (most of whom are rich Ivy/Top School graduates) but has only gotten worse with automation and market uncertainty.
• Management’s official policy is to never promote Individual Contributors. A fresh grad (0YOE) can instantly become a supervisor but somehow an IC needed 8+ years of consistent excellent performance to be considered. Management can become Manager in as little as 2yoe out of Undergrad, whereas IC -> Manager is so rare I can count the Chicago Branch on two hands. And no, it’s not because ICs are not qualified/hardworking. Just imagine how hard it is to work at Amazon-pace for EIGHT YEARS just to be equal to a college brown-nose.
• Management’s unofficial policy is to avoid eye contact or saying hello to ICs unless the ICs initiated it. ICs were afraid to take more than one food/souvenir item during an open house event even though we had so much leftover. A manager even complained that other managers were making fun of ICs for work-place injuries (think Amazon warehouse-like injuries such as overexertion, nerve damage, wrist/knees/back issues.) Absolutely devoid of humanity.
• The company had been automating part of the Atlanta and Chicago warehouses. Managements assigned to be tour guides of these automated warehouses were told to lie say that no IC headcount reduction will occur. Obviously, there were a rise in suspicious performance evaluation after these were built. Also, I was one of the tour guides and were asked by multiple ICs where the observation cameras will be in the ceiling. The fact that multiple raised this seemingly-joking-yet-alarming question tells you just how much Management has trained ICs to become paranoid over time. If you’re a new-hire consultant and feels related to this meme, just know you will be holding the mop to clean up and not the lightsaber.

My husband is in the military and away for the next 9 months, he’s already been gone for 9 months, so 18 in total. He sprung on me on Mother’s Day that we need to try some therapy because our relationship isn’t working and he’s been holding resentment for “years”. Our communication definitely has suffered since he left, but I was completely caught off guard by how much he thinks is wrong in our relationship.
We have a 1 and 3 year old and I’m a SAHM. He says he feels like he has no say in their lives because I’m the primary parent. He also says he’s constantly worried about money and feels the financial burden of all 3 of us. He also said he is no longer attracted to me because I’ve lost quite a bit of weight since having both my children. He also said he wants me to go back to school and learn a new skill to be able to get a good job once the kids are in school.
I am the primary parent, and I carry the mental load of taking care of our entire lives. I do know them best because I’m with them all the time, so I understand why he feels secondary. But I do value his input. Kids are a financial stressor, but we do fairly well and I work a side job as well at night so I don’t understand why he feels so burdened. The attractiveness really hurt and has totally destroyed my confidence. The school thing really pissed me off, as that’s not something I have an interest in doing. I already went to college and have a degree, I did my time.
Long story long, I fear if he does not like the way I parent, the way I look, or the things I want in the future, I fear he does not love me as a person anymore. When I asked him flat out if he still loves me, he said yes because I’m the mother of his children. But that’s it.
I don’t know what to do from here and I’m so deeply hurt and blindsided by it all. Divorce doesn’t seem to be an option, I have no personal money or assets of my own, everything is in his name. And I can’t bear the thought of sharing custody and not seeing my kids for several days. I don’t think divorce is on his radar either, and will likely just live in a loveless marriage which is devastating for me and not the picture I want my kids to grow up seeing either. What do I do?
ETA: he is living with a (beautiful) woman where he is. He says it’s just a friendship/roommate because she’s in the military as well, but he’s changed a lot since he’s been gone and suddenly doesn’t find me attractive anymore. I have my suspicions that he’s denied, but do with that what you will.

I'm looking for a second set of eyes on my finances. Any advice on how to move forward with what I have is greatly appreciated. I'm competent when it comes to finances, but admittedly have no clue what I'm doing when it comes to stocks, dividends, or the typical means people draw income when they're fire.
Wife and I are early 30s. 2 young kids.
I currently work in a sales job that's pretty chill and make about $120k/yr. My wife works in the school district and makes about $60k/yr.
I am a disabled vet and my monthly compensation for that is $4500/mo. That income is tax free for the rest of my life. Another benefit I receive from my state is that I don't have to pay RE taxes on my primary residence, so about $6k/yr. My kids will receive in-state college for free, so don't have to save for that.
My wife and I own our primary residence, plus 4 rental properties in the city where we live. The debt on the rentals is about $1M and they're worth about $2M right now. We live in a city where RE prices are going up with no sign of coming down. These properties have a net income of about $20k/yr.
We have two young kids in daycare a few days a week, a car payment, and my wife's student loans, which total about $6k/month in expenses. We live frugally, but abundantly. Were not really the "lifestyle creep" kinda people and we live well within our means.
3 years from now the kids will be in public school (no daycare cost), the car will be paid off, and my wife's loans will be forgiven via PSLF.
My wife is totally burned out at her job. I'm fine working my job for awhile, as I like it and I'm good at it.
I don't mind managing my rental properties, but one thing I've considered is selling them, taking the profit, and investing it using a fire strategy.
What would you do in my situation?

This is more of a rant than a discussion I guess but I am sick of living like this, if you have any advice let me know.
I'm from a desi background and if I wanted to move out before marriage I'd basically be disowned so if it doesn't work out I wouldn't have nowhere else to go.
The rest of my siblings escaped by getting married and moving out and I just can't do that at the moment. I became so depressed, resigned from my job and just became a socially isolated idiot for 2 years and now I've put on so much weight.
Everytime I try to work on it I'm discouraged and I'm the only one who does anything in the house, they leave their dirty plates on tables even. I'm so sick of living like this and things becoming instantly dirty when I clean them.
I don't have many savings and after applying to so many jobs I'm finally going into a school next week to do supply teaching work, hopefully I become permanent soon.
It'll take me atleast a year to get this weight off me and then get arranged marriage to whoever my crazy family finds for me, I had "talking stages" that failed because they all only want 1 thing. Where do people even find normal people online? 😭
Also I don't exactly have the time, I just turned 26 and I feel like my window is closing so fast getting married past 32 is like crazy in desi families. All my cousin's past that age are still single.
I'm sick of living like this and with a psychotic parent who verbally abused me every day, the other one literally just left and went back home and abandoned us all.
I used to believe in love etc but now I'm just depressed, I used to be so pretty and now I'm just a depressed slob. I would need to save up for a while before even attempting to move out with the living crisis.
I don't know what to do my whole life is falling apart. I feel so far from religion right now too and I know everyone is going to say to just pray more and everything will be okay, but it's not that simple. If that fixed every problem, people wouldn't have any.
Can someone just please give me any type.of advice without berating me I already get that every single day. Thank you.

Today I want to tell my story of how I self-advocated and what I did to achieve that goal. I'm telling my story to help those who are in a similar position to what I was in and to inspire those to self-advocate.
To recap from my earlier posts. I have ADHD and fell under the "multiple disabilities" characterization. My high school teacher claimed that I have autism (Not diagnosed). I personally don't believe I have autism or at the very least I have a high functioning autism. Throughout most of my school career, I was in a self-contained classroom with kids with severe disabilities. Even if I was in the general population I had a paraprofessional or peer tutor. I never believed that I should have been in that position. As a consequence, I never really learned any social skills, I was segregated, and felt like that people didn't want anything to do with me because I was sped. The reason why I ended up in this position was probably a combination of me having the "multiple disabilities'' characterization and me testing low in three year revaluation tests. If you want more info on this then feel free to search my profile. This is an alt account and is primarily used to ask questions about special ed so It's really easy to find stuff about me.
Before I get into my story I just want to make it clear that I'm not against special ed. There's good and bad people in every profession. I believed I was in danger for myself and for my future. I don't believe that my teacher was evil and had the best of intentions but he was putting me in a position that was hurting me and I had to act. If you have any questions or feedback feel free to let me know in the comments. Another thing is that this post has been really hard to make. It opened up some old wounds and as a result took several days to write.
Here's my story: So in late middle school I was tired of the placement that I was in. I was tired of not having friends, Not being able to socialize with my peers, not being able to date. I also was thinking about what my life will look like after high school, I was concerned that I was going to never have friends, Never be in a relationship, and not have the social skills to make those friends. I was generally very concerned for my future. So I decided that for my 8th grade year (2017-2018) I would do my absolute best for both my behavior and academics. Throughout the year nothing changed. I was hoping that me doing well would show that I didn't need any support but at the end of the year I still had paraprofessionals in most of my classes and was being pulled out for tests. In the summer between middle school and high school all I can think about is I want high school to be different. I wanted friends, I wanted a relationship, and I had dreams of me in the student council. When I got into high school I had peer tutors along with paraprofessionals (Peer Tutors are general ed students who sign up as an elective to help special needs kids. They basically serve the role as paraprofessionals with less responsibility). I did everything again and had the exact same result. In January of 2019 (freshmen year) I decided that my current strategy wasn't working. They also started making the peer tutors fill out behavioral checklists for their student(s) by grading them on how well they behaved/followed directions and gave them badges that say "peer tutor" which made me feel singled out. Because of that the peer tutors felt more like babysitters then someone that is an equal. So I went to my special ed teacher and asked him to remove the paraprofessional and the peer tutors. He told me no and said that I needed them. I changed my strategy again and I was going to ask for the Peer Tutors to be gone first, then focus on removing the paraprofessionals. I was more concerned about the peer tutors over the paraprofessionals because I was concerned that since they were part of the student body that this was going to affect me when I was running for the student council. I was worried that they'd tell others I was special needs then people would think I was incompetent. So every 2 weeks I would ask him again to remove them and each time he would give me a different excuse on why I couldn't be alone. Here's some of the excuses he gave me: "The peer tutors need to be there to collect data", "You need to prove that you can do the work yourself", "It's not up to me. It's the general education teacher that decides if you need a peer tutor or an aide", "Peer Tutors are supposed to represent a trainer for a job. If you refuse training then you're going to get fired". I brought it up again during my yearly IEP which took place in March. Once again my teacher said no, bringing up another excuse. As far as I can remember, my parents were neutral about the aide situation. Later one peer tutor was removed, what happened is that the peer tutor moved to a different town and they didn't bother on sending a substitute. A win is a win so I celebrated it. At the end of my freshman year I was pretty much defeated and didn't achieve the goal of being 100% independent. Over the summer I took a look at my situation and decided that my current plan is not working. I knew that when my sophomore year of high school starts I will have aides and peer tutors in classes. I knew that if I wanted to get what I wanted I would have to do something big. I knew that I would have to put up a fight, and put in a lot more effort. Over the summer I developed a war mindset inspired by two quotes from Sun Tzu:
"Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win”
“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.”
I knew that I can't be going into sophomore year blind, so I started drafting a plan. I created a Google doc outlining my goals and what I wanted to accomplish. I knew that I won't be able to win every battle and that I need to choose which fight is worth fighting for. I thought to myself, “Well the peer tutors we're given training on the first day of school and probably have strategies to deal with poor behavior but what about planned well organized protests?” So I began researching strategies on how paraprofessionals/peer tutors dealt with negative behavior and reverse engineered those tactics. I read forms, I Watched YouTube videos and found as much information that I could find. For the peer tutors I didn't know too much about them. I didn't know if it was something that only my school did or if other schools did it. I did some research and found out that other schools had a peer tutor program and some have uploaded training videos on YouTube. Some peer tutors told me that they did babysitting and did nanny work so I looked up babysitting tips. I reverse engineered all of those tactics and came up with strategies to counter those techniques and put all that information that I learned into a google doc that I can use for future reference. During this time I also researched how to become a better negotiator and started learning a little bit of psychology. The plan was to first negotiate and if that doesn't work I will protest and make demands and negotiate. Over the summer I got really good at negotiating and practiced a lot on my father and my sister (they were totally oblivious). To this day I use those negotiating tactics. After I created my document and was satisfied with all the information, I went to bed that night and knew that I have already won and that my sophomore year will be my last year that I 1-1 peer tutor or aide.
Fast forward to the first day of school, as expected I had peer tutors and aides assigned to me in classes. My sped teacher had a chalkboard On the back wall full of sticky notes that had everyone's schedules and a name of someone was assigned to that student for each class. This time around I only had one peer tutor outside of the special ed classes. This is a big improvement over the three I had before but I still have my original goal of having none. For the paraprofessionals I had 2 in Gen classes.The goal was to first remove the peer tutors then the paraprofessionals. Even though this seems to be an improvement I continued with the plan. Since this was the first day, the peer tutors were in another classroom learning policies and other stuff they needed to know so I was alone for the day. I walked over to my special ed teacher and ask him one final time to remove the peer tutor he says no and then I asked him to let me be alone for 2 weeks so I can prove I don't need help and he still denies me. I then tell him that I will allow the peer tutor for 2 weeks and after that she needs to go. My teacher doesn't respond. (To add context the peer tutor that I had, she was a peer tutor in my math class in the prior semester so I already know who she was. We used to talk a lot and was surprised when I saw that she was assigned to me.)
For 2 weeks she mostly left me alone with her occasionally checking up on me. For those 2 weeks I purposely close my self off and adopted a body language that would subconsciously discourage her from approaching me. I did this by keeping my head low and staying as focused as possible. The only thing she did was confront me when I start packing up 2 minutes before the bell rings. She tells me that I shouldn't be packing up and to pull my stuff out again. I tell her no and hold my ground. She writes in my planner that I packed my stuff up early and refuse to pull it out. That happened like 2 or 3 times. On Thursday on the second week my class was tasked to create a PowerPoint. FYI this was a mythology class, while I was doing this PowerPoint I decided instead of manually trying to type in the locations and people from this mythology which the names were very long and complicated. I decided would be easier just to copy and paste them in. My peer tutor sees me doing this and doesn't say anything. At the end of class she writes that I plagiarized in my planner and tells my special ed teacher in person what happened. My sped teacher pulls me out of class (I had his math class right after mythology) and starts telling me that my peer tutor has seen me copy and pasting paragraphs and goes on this lecturing on why plagiarizing is bad. I explained to him that I wasn't copying paragraphs It was only copying names and locations and explain my reason for it. He didn't believe me but he didn't make me retake the assignment. After that I was pissed off and the next day I confronted her about it. I forgot what her reasoning for not telling me was but I told her that she needs to look into things before she makes false reports. After that incident, I decided to wait a week before I ask my teacher to remove her. Also during those first 3 weeks I turned down help from peer tutors and paras if possible In the special ed classroom. I did this to prevent sending any mix signals. I personally didn't mind if I had to work with a peer tutopara or not In the actual sped classroom. I only cared if it was in any of the general education classes. I just thought it would look contradictory if I was accepting help in the sped class and then requesting peer tutors to be removed from my gen classes.
At the beginning of the fourth week I went to school early and went to my sped teacher's class before first hour starts and then I again asked him to remove the peer tutor and the paraprofessionals. He says no again and brings up that I was being academically dishonest by plagiarizing. I tell my side of the story once again on what happened and he still doesn't believe me. At this point I leave and more pissed off. At this point negotiations didn't work so I started small protests by preventing the peer tutors from filling out my planer and the behavioral checklist. Most of them didn't care since there was other students they can fill out and they only need to fill out one to be graded for the day. One peer tutor gave me the puppy dog eye treatment and I eventually cave and let her fill it out. I still let the one peer tutor that was assigned to me in the gen class due to me being the only student and my intention wasn't to ruin, her grade. During the fourth week I began brainstorming ideas on how I can do a massive protest.
On Thursday of the fourth week of school, a walk into the mythology class and it started out like any other day. Class started and my teacher starts talking. I pull up my phone to respond to some messages and my peer tutor sees me. She asks me to hand my phone over to her and I tell her no. She tells me that I can't be on my phone and I tell her okay but I'm still not giving it to you. She then pulls out her phone and puts it on the table. She then tells me to put my phone on the table. I tell her no again. A few minutes past and the teacher finishes up talking. She passes the assignment and immediately my peer tutor begins to try and help by reading the questions. I slide the packet over closer to me and start ignoring her. I was hoping that she will get the hint and leave me alone. She doesn't so put on my hoodie and tried to mentally block her out. I don't remember what she said during all this since I was blocking it out but I do remember her touching me and the general ed teacher coming over and start assisting the peer tutor. It was a lot of pressure and I was actually about to give up because it was too much. But they both gaved up before I did and I was very relieved. After that, the class was pretty much quiet. The peer tutor wrote an entire paragraph on what happened. I walked to my math class and sat down. I then see my peer tutor walking into class and ask for my sped teacher. I already knew it was about me. I see them talk for 2 minutes and sure enough I see my teacher calling me over. I walked outside the classroom and me and the teacher begin to go at it. We end up saying the same things we have said before. However, my teacher this time mentioned that if I keep up my behavior that he's going to call in a meeting with my parents. The rest of math class was pretty much the same. However, my English class with the same teacher he went on a rant about using accommodations seeing that he had a disability growing up which was tourette's and he were love to have a peer tutor. I was quiet for the whole class since I was already exhausted because of everything else that had already happened. For the rest of the weekend, I've been coming up with plans on how I would be able to pull off a massive protest.
Now for the good news. On the fifth week of school, I noticed that my peer tutor was missing. My teacher pulled me aside again and told me that he decided that he was going to pull her for 2 weeks to see how well I would do without her. I told him thank you, that's what I wanted since the beginning of the school year. After those 2 weeks he didn't reinstate her and I didn't have a peer tutor or paraprofessionals in gen classes since. The deal moving forward was as long as I had a D or better he wasn't going to send any support unless I asked for it. My relationship with that sped teacher also had improved significantly. Later in my Junior year of high school I ran in my school's election and won. I was given the social media position.
In hindsight, I'm glad I didn't have to pull off a big protest. But the same time I wish that this situation could have ended in a different way.
Everything that I just told you is only the tip of the iceberg. There's so much detail that I had to leave out just to make this story shorter. Lot of it I'm still processing even though I found great strength in myself fighting back against a system that I believe was ruining my life. That war mindset hasn't left my mentality yet. I'm still dealing with the consequences of me being in special ed. Everything I told you happened 5 years ago and I'm still living through it like it just happened. I'm mentally recovering and eventually I will recover. Right now I'm in therapy and I'm writing down everything I can in a Google doc to process everything emotionally. Maybe one day I'll give that story to a writer and make a book out of it.
If you have any questions feel free ask them, I would love to answer them.

Today I want to tell my story of how I self-advocated and what I did to achieve that goal. I'm telling my story to help those who are in a similar position to what I was in and to inspire those to self-advocate.
To recap from my earlier posts. I have ADHD and fell under the "multiple disabilities" characterization. My high school teacher claimed that I have autism (Not diagnosed). I personally don't believe I have autism or at the very least I have a high functioning autism. Throughout most of my school career, I was in a self-contained classroom with kids with severe disabilities. Even if I was in the general population I had a paraprofessional or peer tutor. I never believed that I should have been in that position. As a consequence, I never really learned any social skills, I was segregated, and felt like that people didn't want anything to do with me because I was sped. The reason why I ended up in this position was probably a combination of me having the "multiple disabilities'' characterization and me testing low in three year revaluation tests. If you want more info on this then feel free to search my profile. This is an alt account and is primarily used to ask questions about special ed so It's really easy to find stuff about me.
Before I get into my story I just want to make it clear that I'm not against special ed. There's good and bad people in every profession. I believed I was in danger for myself and for my future. I don't believe that my teacher was evil and had the best of intentions but he was putting me in a position that was hurting me and I had to act. If you have any questions or feedback feel free to let me know in the comments. Another thing is that this post has been really hard to make. It opened up some old wounds and as a result took several days to write.
Here's my story: So in late middle school I was tired of the placement that I was in. I was tired of not having friends, Not being able to socialize with my peers, not being able to date. I also was thinking about what my life will look like after high school, I was concerned that I was going to never have friends, Never be in a relationship, and not have the social skills to make those friends. I was generally very concerned for my future. So I decided that for my 8th grade year (2017-2018) I would do my absolute best for both my behavior and academics. Throughout the year nothing changed. I was hoping that me doing well would show that I didn't need any support but at the end of the year I still had paraprofessionals in most of my classes and was being pulled out for tests. In the summer between middle school and high school all I can think about is I want high school to be different. I wanted friends, I wanted a relationship, and I had dreams of me in the student council. When I got into high school I had peer tutors along with paraprofessionals (Peer Tutors are general ed students who sign up as an elective to help special needs kids. They basically serve the role as paraprofessionals with less responsibility). I did everything again and had the exact same result. In January of 2019 (freshmen year) I decided that my current strategy wasn't working. They also started making the peer tutors fill out behavioral checklists for their student(s) by grading them on how well they behaved/followed directions and gave them badges that say "peer tutor" which made me feel singled out. Because of that the peer tutors felt more like babysitters then someone that is an equal. So I went to my special ed teacher and asked him to remove the paraprofessional and the peer tutors. He told me no and said that I needed them. I changed my strategy again and I was going to ask for the Peer Tutors to be gone first, then focus on removing the paraprofessionals. I was more concerned about the peer tutors over the paraprofessionals because I was concerned that since they were part of the student body that this was going to affect me when I was running for the student council. I was worried that they'd tell others I was special needs then people would think I was incompetent. So every 2 weeks I would ask him again to remove them and each time he would give me a different excuse on why I couldn't be alone. Here's some of the excuses he gave me: "The peer tutors need to be there to collect data", "You need to prove that you can do the work yourself", "It's not up to me. It's the general education teacher that decides if you need a peer tutor or an aide", "Peer Tutors are supposed to represent a trainer for a job. If you refuse training then you're going to get fired". I brought it up again during my yearly IEP which took place in March. Once again my teacher said no, bringing up another excuse. As far as I can remember, my parents were neutral about the aide situation. Later one peer tutor was removed, what happened is that the peer tutor moved to a different town and they didn't bother on sending a substitute. A win is a win so I celebrated it. At the end of my freshman year I was pretty much defeated and didn't achieve the goal of being 100% independent. Over the summer I took a look at my situation and decided that my current plan is not working. I knew that when my sophomore year of high school starts I will have aides and peer tutors in classes. I knew that if I wanted to get what I wanted I would have to do something big. I knew that I would have to put up a fight, and put in a lot more effort. Over the summer I developed a war mindset inspired by two quotes from Sun Tzu:
"Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win”
“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.”
I knew that I can't be going into sophomore year blind, so I started drafting a plan. I created a Google doc outlining my goals and what I wanted to accomplish. I knew that I won't be able to win every battle and that I need to choose which fight is worth fighting for. I thought to myself, “Well the peer tutors we're given training on the first day of school and probably have strategies to deal with poor behavior but what about planned well organized protests?” So I began researching strategies on how paraprofessionals/peer tutors dealt with negative behavior and reverse engineered those tactics. I read forms, I Watched YouTube videos and found as much information that I could find. For the peer tutors I didn't know too much about them. I didn't know if it was something that only my school did or if other schools did it. I did some research and found out that other schools had a peer tutor program and some have uploaded training videos on YouTube. Some peer tutors told me that they did babysitting and did nanny work so I looked up babysitting tips. I reverse engineered all of those tactics and came up with strategies to counter those techniques and put all that information that I learned into a google doc that I can use for future reference. During this time I also researched how to become a better negotiator and started learning a little bit of psychology. The plan was to first negotiate and if that doesn't work I will protest and make demands and negotiate. Over the summer I got really good at negotiating and practiced a lot on my father and my sister (they were totally oblivious). To this day I use those negotiating tactics. After I created my document and was satisfied with all the information, I went to bed that night and knew that I have already won and that my sophomore year will be my last year that I 1-1 peer tutor or aide.
Fast forward to the first day of school, as expected I had peer tutors and aides assigned to me in classes. My sped teacher had a chalkboard On the back wall full of sticky notes that had everyone's schedules and a name of someone was assigned to that student for each class. This time around I only had one peer tutor outside of the special ed classes. This is a big improvement over the three I had before but I still have my original goal of having none. For the paraprofessionals I had 2 in Gen classes.The goal was to first remove the peer tutors then the paraprofessionals. Even though this seems to be an improvement I continued with the plan. Since this was the first day, the peer tutors were in another classroom learning policies and other stuff they needed to know so I was alone for the day. I walked over to my special ed teacher and ask him one final time to remove the peer tutor he says no and then I asked him to let me be alone for 2 weeks so I can prove I don't need help and he still denies me. I then tell him that I will allow the peer tutor for 2 weeks and after that she needs to go. My teacher doesn't respond. (To add context the peer tutor that I had, she was a peer tutor in my math class in the prior semester so I already know who she was. We used to talk a lot and was surprised when I saw that she was assigned to me.)
For 2 weeks she mostly left me alone with her occasionally checking up on me. For those 2 weeks I purposely close my self off and adopted a body language that would subconsciously discourage her from approaching me. I did this by keeping my head low and staying as focused as possible. The only thing she did was confront me when I start packing up 2 minutes before the bell rings. She tells me that I shouldn't be packing up and to pull my stuff out again. I tell her no and hold my ground. She writes in my planner that I packed my stuff up early and refuse to pull it out. That happened like 2 or 3 times. On Thursday on the second week my class was tasked to create a PowerPoint. FYI this was a mythology class, while I was doing this PowerPoint I decided instead of manually trying to type in the locations and people from this mythology which the names were very long and complicated. I decided would be easier just to copy and paste them in. My peer tutor sees me doing this and doesn't say anything. At the end of class she writes that I plagiarized in my planner and tells my special ed teacher in person what happened. My sped teacher pulls me out of class (I had his math class right after mythology) and starts telling me that my peer tutor has seen me copy and pasting paragraphs and goes on this lecturing on why plagiarizing is bad. I explained to him that I wasn't copying paragraphs It was only copying names and locations and explain my reason for it. He didn't believe me but he didn't make me retake the assignment. After that I was pissed off and the next day I confronted her about it. I forgot what her reasoning for not telling me was but I told her that she needs to look into things before she makes false reports. After that incident, I decided to wait a week before I ask my teacher to remove her. Also during those first 3 weeks I turned down help from peer tutors and paras if possible In the special ed classroom. I did this to prevent sending any mix signals. I personally didn't mind if I had to work with a peer tutopara or not In the actual sped classroom. I only cared if it was in any of the general education classes. I just thought it would look contradictory if I was accepting help in the sped class and then requesting peer tutors to be removed from my gen classes.
At the beginning of the fourth week I went to school early and went to my sped teacher's class before first hour starts and then I again asked him to remove the peer tutor and the paraprofessionals. He says no again and brings up that I was being academically dishonest by plagiarizing. I tell my side of the story once again on what happened and he still doesn't believe me. At this point I leave and more pissed off. At this point negotiations didn't work so I started small protests by preventing the peer tutors from filling out my planer and the behavioral checklist. Most of them didn't care since there was other students they can fill out and they only need to fill out one to be graded for the day. One peer tutor gave me the puppy dog eye treatment and I eventually cave and let her fill it out. I still let the one peer tutor that was assigned to me in the gen class due to me being the only student and my intention wasn't to ruin, her grade. During the fourth week I began brainstorming ideas on how I can do a massive protest.
On Thursday of the fourth week of school, a walk into the mythology class and it started out like any other day. Class started and my teacher starts talking. I pull up my phone to respond to some messages and my peer tutor sees me. She asks me to hand my phone over to her and I tell her no. She tells me that I can't be on my phone and I tell her okay but I'm still not giving it to you. She then pulls out her phone and puts it on the table. She then tells me to put my phone on the table. I tell her no again. A few minutes past and the teacher finishes up talking. She passes the assignment and immediately my peer tutor begins to try and help by reading the questions. I slide the packet over closer to me and start ignoring her. I was hoping that she will get the hint and leave me alone. She doesn't so put on my hoodie and tried to mentally block her out. I don't remember what she said during all this since I was blocking it out but I do remember her touching me and the general ed teacher coming over and start assisting the peer tutor. It was a lot of pressure and I was actually about to give up because it was too much. But they both gaved up before I did and I was very relieved. After that, the class was pretty much quiet. The peer tutor wrote an entire paragraph on what happened. I walked to my math class and sat down. I then see my peer tutor walking into class and ask for my sped teacher. I already knew it was about me. I see them talk for 2 minutes and sure enough I see my teacher calling me over. I walked outside the classroom and me and the teacher begin to go at it. We end up saying the same things we have said before. However, my teacher this time mentioned that if I keep up my behavior that he's going to call in a meeting with my parents. The rest of math class was pretty much the same. However, my English class with the same teacher he went on a rant about using accommodations seeing that he had a disability growing up which was tourette's and he were love to have a peer tutor. I was quiet for the whole class since I was already exhausted because of everything else that had already happened. For the rest of the weekend, I've been coming up with plans on how I would be able to pull off a massive protest.
Now for the good news. On the fifth week of school, I noticed that my peer tutor was missing. My teacher pulled me aside again and told me that he decided that he was going to pull her for 2 weeks to see how well I would do without her. I told him thank you, that's what I wanted since the beginning of the school year. After those 2 weeks he didn't reinstate her and I didn't have a peer tutor or paraprofessionals in gen classes since. The deal moving forward was as long as I had a D or better he wasn't going to send any support unless I asked for it. My relationship with that sped teacher also had improved significantly. Later in my Junior year of high school I ran in my school's election and won. I was given the social media position.
In hindsight, I'm glad I didn't have to pull off a big protest. But the same time I wish that this situation could have ended in a different way.
Everything that I just told you is only the tip of the iceberg. There's so much detail that I had to leave out just to make this story shorter. Lot of it I'm still processing even though I found great strength in myself fighting back against a system that I believe was ruining my life. That war mindset hasn't left my mentality yet. I'm still dealing with the consequences of me being in special ed. Everything I told you happened 5 years ago and I'm still living through it like it just happened. I'm mentally recovering and eventually I will recover. Right now I'm in therapy and I'm writing down everything I can in a Google doc to process everything emotionally. Maybe one day I'll give that story to a writer and make a book out of it.
If you have any questions feel free ask them, I would love to answer them.

I don’t know where to start with this. There is so much and I’m pretty sure this is above reddits paygrade. I just don’t know where to turn too. I (38f) have been with my fiancé’ (38m) for almost 4 years now. I love him but I think I want out of the relationship. I can’t imagine being with someone else but I also cant imagine doing this for my entire life. There is so much to go over but I’m pretty sure at the end of this I am a huge double triple huge asshole for how I feel. I won’t make excuses. All I’ll say is that this has been happening long before we got to here. There is a lot of context but the first thing I guess I should address is that we both have chronic health issues. His is much more life threatening if not maintained but for the most part is healthy. He rarely gets sick but when he does it’s pretty bad. He has a rare form of anemia that is only treatable by lifelong steroid use or bone marrow transplant. I always keep up with his health and his hemoglobin levels are good but I don’t schedule his apps or attend all visits. He does all that. About a year and a half ago transplant talk was put on the table and he was vehemently against it. But after about a year he realized there wasn’t a choice his meds aren’t working anymore. I’ve always asked if hes in pain or struggling he makes it very clear he is fine and that he would tell me if he wasn’t. I am super aware of when things look off, or if he looks really pale. I always ask questions and when I do go to the doctors apps I pay attention.
I have an autoimmune disorder. It varies from being annoying as fucking hell to down right painful and I can’t walk. He has been less than sympathetic to just down right making fun of me. He’s told me I need to live in a bubble to you’re always sick, to what doesn’t hurt on you. Not much dude. Not much. To be clear I don’t whine, I don’t miss work unless is unavoidable, I went to work with Flu A, B and covid before I almost out right couldn’t set up. I’ve had full blown asthma attack on the bed and in-between breathes asked for him to get the nebulizer because I didn’t have a rescue inhaler anymore. My daughters cat laid on me because I was so sick and doing the treatment and while most cats love me, I’m not this cats favorite but even he was like mom needs me. He looked annoyed and thought I was being dramatic. It wasn’t until the doctor told me I was super mega sick that he relented. Im on immunosuppressants and I have two small school age kids who are walking petri dishes, I catch a lot. Its not for a lack of trying no too. One of the biggest I have a bad tendency to get yeast infections, its chronic and not entirely unavoidable. Sex is a huge factor in this and it’s a snow ball effect, it starts with a yeast infection that blooms in to a full on UTI then my lichen Sclerosis flares, and lots and lots of sex exacerbates these issues. He likes to bring up the first year we were together that we had a lot of sex but we didn’t live together and had to many days apart. I spent 100s of dollars on yeast meds and suppositories. I still ended up in urgent care for a UTI that caused a fever so high they were convinced I was septic. I wasn’t but I felt super awful. When we moved in together the sex things seem to bother him more. He had issues with all the things wrong and I tried to explain and give him things to read but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. We fought about it constantly. We had full blown arguments over sweatpants and sexy clothing. To when he actually told me unless I wore sexy panties sex didn’t matter to him. He apologizes after but I know that he meant what he said. I’ve never lied to him about any thing, I’m not an overly sexual person and not usually open about being attracted to someone but I have tried to meet him halfway. I knew my illness was causing a lot of problems so I tried so hard to be better. I had gained a lot of weight from steroid use so I went and got help to loose the weight, Ive lost like almost 80lbs. Ive gotten down to only one suppressant medication. But the skin issues still linger. I was told there wasn’t much I could do about it. I’ve gone to the doctor multiple times just for this issue. I’ve tried supplements and boric acid suppositories. Its helped but not enough to really notice. We just had to make changes to the way we have sex, we are still having it 2-3 times a week but we have to have days in-between and we have to minimize sperm contacting my skin. I was also diagnosed with seminal plasma hypersensitivity which is common with my skin disorders and it is an allergic reaction. But I have to put a huge wall up for spontaneous sex which is a huge bummer and he is 100% reliant on me being the one that’s spontaneous. Which he doesn’t think is fair. I understand all that but I’ve explained if sex hurt him or caused the issues I’ve had you’d understand why I have to do it this way. There have been times where I’ve had issues and had to abstain for sex or a week but It’s never been much longer than that and he’s constantly asking if its better or if we can do it. He rushes care and a lot of times I’m reinfected or I just never went away cause its never had time to heal. The only time he doesn’t press as bad is when I’m on my period and even then he makes comments about putting a towel down. He talks about sex constantly, asks for blow jobs when I can’t and insists on trying to lick me when I’m not in the mood. When someone has a yeast infection they aren’t thinking about anything going anywhere near this vag, they are uncomfortable and wished they could rip it off and throw it away. I have counted how many times hes brought up having sex in an hour and the most he’s done it is 23 times the least is 8. He can’t have a conversation with me without bringing it up. I could be talking about something completely different and he’ll go we doing it today? Completely off topic. ITs so much worse now that hes going to have to have transplant and has to go at the very least 30days with out sex. The first questions he asked whenever this was happening had nothing to do with will I live it’s been when can I have sex? He’s willing to risk my health and his health for it. I just can’t anymore. His main concern this entire time is don’t find someone else and don’t fuck anyone else. Not I love you and all of our kids, its’ been just about this and that he’s going to be ugly after the transplant. To which I could give a fuck about. I want to be clear I love him, I love having sex with him but this is just really hard to deal with. I’ve tried talking to him Ive tried expressing that this isn’t normal. He gets super defensive that why are you in a relationship for if you aren’t going to touch them and the entitlement to just grab at me has more than once sent me on edge. I’ve tried to explain it just devolves into fight where he just shuts down and says I just won’t fucking touch you period. Then spins it as I’m the one making a big deal. Its just sex.
These aren’t the only issues, we both have children from previous relationships my kids are much younger and hes jealous of the attention they get, hes so worried about me and him he doesn’t even pay attention to his own kids who are now teenagers. During this whole transplant talk hes made comments that he can’t wait to be alone and have a break from work and no kids around. His kids have heard him. All 4 are taking this super hard, he doesn’t care, he just says my kids are clingy and can’t do anything on their own. My kids are 7 and 5. I can go into more details but this would be so effing long if I did. And to be clear about this he has had these behaviors probably for the past 2 years way before we had the transplant conversations.
I know that I’m supposed to be one of his carers after the transplant. His mom will be primary as I am the main caregiver of my bio children and he will be located about 3 hours away. We were gone to testing this week and things were pretty fun we played and best friend game and for once no topics of sex came up. And it was like I got a glimpse of the person I fell in love with. But the next day it was right back to talking about sex every time he looked at me. When were seeing doctors, I had to excuse myself at one point because I realized if the roles were reversed he wouldn’t do this for me. If I lost any part of my beauty or ability to have sex this would be over. IT was so sobering and I was devastated. I tried talking to him when we got home and it caused a fight that we are still currently in. He says I’m not interested in sex every and he doesn’t try anymore cause Im never in the mood. Ive explained that constantly talking about it ruins it. Ive showed him time and time again if you just stop you get more from me. He doesn’t care. I don’t want to be his carer anymore. And I know that makes me a horrible person. Please excuse typos I am on voice text.

My current gpa is a 3.8 Un weighted
I haven’t taken the sat or psat yet
And these are my current EC’s

1. Started a clothing brand at 12 and scaled it to $50,000+
2. treasurer, tax manager, and youth leader for local nonprofit kids give more(501-c3)
3. taught myself how to code freshman year
4. Made clothing brand guide on how to make your first $1,000 [ebook]
5. Started a clothing resale business scaled to $1,000+ a month
6. SGA
7. Vice President of African Caribbean student association at my school
8. Started a DECA program at my school

Awards (I’m still working on them) I have a few Olympiad awards on the state level for science
And was a John Stockton scholarship nominee
Here are the list of colleges I am interested in
Upenn Wharton (finance) remember “The Huntsman Program” Cornell Vanderbilt Dartmouth
Duke(Fuqua) UCLA(econ) University Michigan UVA UMD Notre Dame Bentley
Penn state

What’s in the closet, Kirsty?
He knew I hid a secret.
I smiled, tried to look confused.
He waited, crossing his arms.
I worried that he'd already seen. He had.
What else could he think about the pile?
His wife’s a cheater. She has another life. Another husband. Children.
He’d never believe the truth: I’m not a cheater; there’s no other life; no other man; I don’t know who the children are who visit me at night.
But I did have a secret. And maybe it’s fair to say another life, even if was smaller and against my will.
I should have destroyed those frames, burned the photos within. Now it looked like I saved them, cherished them. The truth couldn’t be farther. I feared to touch anything to do with… whatever they are…with one exception.
“It started last Halloween,” I said to George, my husband, my real husband.
He stopped packing for a moment, working out the impossibility of this statement. “I’m taking the girls to my parents.” He resumed the tossing of shirts, pants, etc. into our big suitcase.
“It’s true,” I said, but weakly. The children in the picture are at least six and four respectively. They were born six months ago.
“They’re not… my kids,” I said of the boys in the photos. They’re not kids is what I almost said.
George stopped and squeezed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “Kirsty,” he said slowly, “there are baby pictures. I saw them.”
“That’s-”
He quickly raised his finger, exasperated, angry, done.
“The first picture is you holding a newborn, and…” He swallowed painfully, his throat gone dry. It always does when he’s upset. “And the father in that picture, with his arm around you, isn’t me.”
When I couldn't deny it, he nodded like he knew all along our marriage would end.
We were happy. We really were. George and I had managed to overcome the typical breakdown that often comes with raising children. Only since last Halloween had distance been made by me.
I should have told him as soon as it started.
“Girls!” he called as I followed him down the stairs to the front hall of our lovely home. We’d scrimped and sacrificed to buy and keep this place, our dream by the lake. He’d been so proud. I couldn’t tell him I wanted to leave the first night sleeping there.
Cara and Ella protested through play, ignoring the adults, continuing to jump on an old box they’d long since flattened. Rays from the western sun placed my daughters into an inspired, hallowed light, and I started to cry. He was going to take my babies away.
George opened the door, intending, I’m sure, to drop the suitcase in the car before returning to physically carry the girls out.
But he hesitated in the doorway.
“George?”
The suitcase fell with a solid thud on the floor. “There’s no way,” he said.
“What?”
“There’s no way,” he said, with emphasis on the last word, “you would have had time for…this…”
Not defining "this" as cheating was progress. “Yes!”
He glared, quieting my desperate enthusiasm. I wasn’t off the hook. “Tell me. The truth.”
“I can’t.”
He reached for the suitcase.
“No, not because I don’t want to,” I protested. “I don’t know what’s happening!” I sat on the carpeted steps and stared through blurred vision at my trembling hands. The shriek I’d filled the house with - “happening!” - had put a halt to the box's obliteration. Cara and Ella hesitated for a few seconds before leaping into action.
Cara, the oldest, six, punched her dad in the buttocks. “You have to be nice!”
Ella, four, sat beside me and patted my trembling hands. “It’s okay, mummy.”
Such lovely daughters. Nothing like the boys in those photos when they were this age.
George grasped Cara's wrists and gently walked her back into the house, using his foot to kick the suitcase from the swing of the front door.
"It's alright, girls," he said with weak resolve. "Go and play."
"No!" Cara shouted. She kicked at her father and he pulled her close into a bearhug. Gradually, the girls calmed and were convinced to return to the box in the front room.
"Kirsty," George said, "you have to tell me." He sat down on the step beside me. "Please." I would do anything to take away the hurt in his eyes. "Please."
"I can't. But… I can write it down. Maybe." I took out my phone. We shared Google Drive. When I made a new document, he reluctantly started his phone. The man was a dream. He watched his screen, and waited patiently for my words to appear.
Without preamble, I returned to the awful moment when it all began: a strange and disturbing dream. Words came like an infection from beneath a torn scab. The wound had been opened. Nothing could stop this now.
Sex with another man has never been a desire of mine. I love George. He loves me.
Plus, the man in my dream was a stranger, and not particularly handsome. He has a plain face set to unwavering boredom and unkempt male pattern baldness. Our dream sex felt obligatory, just something we had to do.
I awoke on the wrong side of midnight. November 1st and I was craving ice cream instead of the girls' gathered candy. The freezer left by the previous homeowners came with unopened ice cream. Freezer burned or not, I wanted some.
After retrieving a spoon from the kitchen, I intended to destroy a brick of neopolitan. He waited in his flannel pajamas, barefoot on the concrete floor. His arms were crossed.
"Cravings?" he said.
I dropped the spoon. It clattered down the basement steps. Before I could run away, he disappeared like someone had erased him from head to foot in one clean sweep.
Had to be a dream. That's what I told myself. The spoon stayed in the basement until daylight. Ghost or nightmare, there was laundry to do the next day.
I crossed the concrete floor fast and only felt safer when I'd closed the door to the more modern laundry room. Never thought builder's grade tiles and track lights would make me feel anything but sad.
His voice caught me sorting.
"Kirsty!"
I dropped the cup of detergent all over the floor.
"Shit."
I came out of the laundry room, figuring George had been looking for me in uncharacteristically rude fashion. He hated speaking between rooms. Shouting throughout the house was highly impolite. It must have been important, I figured.
As soon as I stepped onto the bare concrete, however, deep sadness, the kind that seems to physically leech the strength from your body, dominated the room.
"Hello?" I don't know why I said that. The basement is a low ceilinged rectangle. There are no hiding spots except for the laundry room I'd come from. After a deep breath, I walked briskly to the stairs.
"Any day now," a raspy voice breathed into my ear. I jolted and slipped forward, falling and clipping my chin off a step. It made my teeth click painfully. Nobody there, of course. I ran upstairs and George had gone outside with the girls to play hide and seek.
I wanted to tell him. He looked so happy. It's hard to convey in words the kind of smile he showed me through the window. Imagine contentment mixed with unreserved joy and hope. Yes, it's difficult to picture. So few of us can ever have such a moment. Sort of like finding a natural view completely untouched by humanity. Beyond rare and precious.
I’m rambling now to avoid writing about what followed. The point is I couldn’t tell him. I hoped it’d go away and stop.
But, of course, it didn’t, and things got much worse.
I awoke in a great deal of pain. Having already given birth to children, the feeling was familiar. Despite getting up and gasping, George continued to snore in our bed. He’s a deep sleeper, but a quick and early riser. I’ve never heard him complain about getting out of bed either, especially when there’s an emergency.
I might have woken him up but I was disoriented and confused. Part of me believed I was still pregnant with Ella. It wasn’t until I’d gone all the way to the kitchen to avoid waking up the girls, that my brain caught up: Girls. Plural. Ella was asleep in her bed upstairs.
“Ohhhhhhhh shiiiiiiiiiiit.” I knew the signs of labour. This couldn’t be happening. “Ohhhhhhhhh.”
I was definitely going to wake everyone up if this continued.
My phone was upstairs by my bedside table. We don’t have a landline. I should have called 911. I should have woken up George.
Instead, I went downstairs where I could vocalize pain without disturbing anyone. Such a pathetically passive response. But that’s how I was raised. Keep it down, don't you frown.
His hands seized mine as soon as I descended the last step. Serious and bald without dignity is how to best describe his physical appearance. Cold and cruel is what he is. The lights turned off and, in the perfect darkness of the basement, he was all that I could see.
He produces a red light from his body somehow but his touch is literally frosty.
"Kristy, it's time," he said. No joy there. Just straight facts. Something was coming. I was going to give birth to it. In the dull red glow of his being, the first boy came.
"His name is Hadad," the man said, placing a large, infant boy with a lot of hair and, I swear, a hint of beard, on the bare concrete. Hadad looked like a three month old they use as newborns on TV. He didn't cry. He hardly seemed to breathe as his dark eyes roamed the darkness. His light resembled the man's, a less intense red.
I felt another contraction, and winced.
"She comes next," the man said.
I felt so weak. "Who are you?" I asked him.
At last, he smiled and I wished he hadn't. It made me feel small, insignificant, and beneath his concern. "You know who I am," he said. "I'm your husband."
Pain wracked my entire body. Something didn't feel right. The birth of Cara and Ella had been without difficulty.
"Push," my "husband" ordered. "She is upset with you, and will kill you if you don't get her out now."
"It has to be a nightmare," I told him. Sweat poured in streams down my face. The unborn "she" in question writhed and damaged my insides. I screamed. I couldn't help it.
"Push!"
I obeyed and the second boy spilled onto the bare concrete, coated in blood and dust.
"It's a boy," I said.
The man looked displeased. "The body is male. She is Hebat. No wonder she is angry." Like the other infant, Hebat appeared aware of her surroundings and had far too much motor control for a newborn. The light pouring from her body was dull silver. Her eye sockets were two pits of concentrated despair. I had to look away.
The babies were pressed into my arms.
The man stretched out beside me. "Open your eyes and smile." I resisted. "Do it. Now." What choice did I have? The flash from his cell blinded me. They were all gone by the time my sight recovered. Only the sweat remained as evidence of the ordeal.
It had to have been a hallucination. Some very bad food poisoning maybe. The source could be as simple as an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. I had been stress eating since we'd moved in. I stood up and took some comfort in a Charles Dickens' reference.
"More of gravy than of grave about you," I said. My words seemed consumed by the dreadful weight of the air. "Whatever you are."
Whatever you are: something bad in any case. At best, I'd hallucinated prolonged and traumatic labour and needed medical attention. Yet, when I limped up the basement stairs, all thoughts of waking George vanished. There on the kitchen island sat a propped frame containing the photograph taken only moments ago.
The man looked happy. Only Hadad appeared in this picture, which meant another one was somewhere. I didn't panic. I worried more about what George would think if he saw the photos. I had to find them all.
Hebat and his father and I were mounted in a dark wood frame by the master bedroom. It'd be the first thing anyone saw if they woke up. I plucked it off the wall and, together with the first photo, tucked it under some blankets in the dresser we'd shoved in the small walk-in closet.
You might not believe this, but I went straight to sleep after. I climbed under the blanket in my sweaty pajamas, shut my eyes, and didn't have enough time to deny what had happened. I was unconscious until morning.
George placed a coffee on my nightstand. That's what I remember. He rubbed my feet while I slowly awoke. The girls were watching TV downstairs, munching on apple slices. There was forty minutes still before we had to seriously consider getting ready to take Cara to school.
George would drop her off on his way to work downtown. He chose his hours and always chose convenience for his wife and kids. Ella and I planned to spend the morning gardening. Then we would nap much of the afternoon away until George and Cara returned. A life so perfect is so very rare.
I didn't want to spoil things with a very convincing nightmare. Besides, I felt fine. Not so good that I wanted to look in the dresser to see if those photos really were there, but not ill. So I remained silent again.
November started fine. Idyllic days and nights filled with laughter and joy and television. Just as I started to believe in the dream we'd made, they came again.
The wail of a child's hunger is a powerful call for a parent. When it's a chorus, even of two, it cannot be ignored. Only I awoke to Hadad and Hebat's cries for their "mother" from the basement.
Half asleep, I drifted into the kitchen and searched for their milk bottles. When no bottles could be found, I remembered they were newborns. Milk swelled in my breasts and made my nipples ache. Just like when Cara or Ella would awaken in the night. It was a relief to feed them.
But what the fuck was I doing?
I was acting like the man in the basement and the devil babies were mine. It'd been less than a week since Halloween and that horrible nightmare illusion. I had already taken on the beleaguered newborn mother role without question.
Their cries intensified and flayed the weak resistance of exhausted reasoning.
Don't wake George. Don't wake my babies, my real babies.
"What took you so long?" the man critized, his voice monotone, the question unrhetorical.
"I… was sleeping. I went to the fridge first." Under his severe gaze, I stopped in the midst of the dark room. Hadad had quieted. Hebat cooed as if laughing at her own joke. I couldn't see them because the lights were off. They liked the dark better. Somehow I knew that about them and him.
"You should sleep down here," he said. "A mother should always be close to her babies."
The statement was nonsense but not altogether wrong. I wanted to be close to my babies, the daughters sleeping in bliss upstairs, away from the evil fermentation in the basement.
"Kirsty," he said. "Are you listening?" His hand touched the small of my back. The gentleness surprised me. I squawked and flinched away. "What’s wrong with you? They're hungry." He pressed on my shoulders until I sat on the cold floor.
They came from the shadows, already walking. I wanted to go, but I knew he wouldn't allow it. He pulled my cat t-shirt off over my head and their fierce mouths suckled, relieving the pressure of excess breast milk quickly. It felt physically good and psychologically alien.
I looked down at them once and immediately regretted it. Their emanated light had intensified to a point where perception of them hurt.
Each time I blinked my eyes were drawn to some isolated part of their bodies. The vision got closer to the point of disgust. Everything is gross if you're close enough. There is no beauty under a microscope. If you think there is then you're not using the right magnification.
Hebat's eye drew me in. At first, I saw the dark sphere, and then the strands of her eyelashes. Her gravity kept pulling until the creatures that live in eyelashes were revealed: Demodex folliculorum. I looked the microscopic horrors up.
The babies had more parasites than any child should. They wanted to show me and could somehow do so.
I asked him about it. "Why are they showing me these worms?"
He smiled, contemptuously as usual. "Trying to impress mother. Neither of them understand your horror and insignificance. You are the ant who knows they're an ant. Lucky you. They think you will be proud of the life their corporeal forms produce and host. Give them a few hours. It will pass."
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"I'm not sure what you mean. We're married. Now, prepare to smile." His cell reappeared and I noted the lack of features; it might have been a singed rectangle of spent firewood. He frowned when I failed to smile. "Smile, Kirsty. These are your children."
I managed to stave off the tears and hold the babies close. The smile was more difficult. In the inevitable aftermath of their sudden disappearance, the frames depicted an exhausted, wrinkly woman smiling painfully. It took a second to recognize myself.
The things in the basement sapped my strength. I looked dehydrated, beleaguered. The scale in the bathroom said I'd dropped six pounds. I'd weighed myself the morning before.
"Whoa, you've lost weight," George noted, thinking I'd be pleased. "This place has been so good for us, eh?'
To produce another smile proved as draining as the previous night. "Y-yes," I stuttered too late for him to ignore.
"Hey," he said, touching my forearm.
I flinched.
"Whoa, you okay? What's wrong?"
I should have told him. "Nothing. Bad sleep. A nightmare. I'll be fine."
A lie is an agreement. George wanted to agree, I think. He wanted life to be fine because he was happy for once. We struggled so hard before we came to Bridal Veil Lake. It was supposed to be our dream.
Guilty if I told him the truth. Guilty because I didn't. I began to resent his happiness, though he had done nothing but be the wonderful man he'd always been.
To Cara and Ella I became a body in motion, No brain left to guide them away from harm or answer their questions about nature and the universe.
"I don't know." That's what I told them often.
So they began to treat me like a kind of butler.
"Can I have some juice, please?"
"Sure, sweetheart."
"Mommy, can I have a snack?"
"Of course." And I'd run off to fetch it.
"Cookies."
"Yes, dear."
When Christmas came, I had two and they induced the same level of joy. Visiting the basement to feed and nurture Hebat and Hadad became a nightly occurrence. I'd learned to awaken, if I could get to sleep at all, and go quietly.
He berated me severely if I missed a night, and there were subtle threats made casually.
"I may have to squash you yet," he said, his tone as deep and cold as always.
"It won't happen again," I promised. "They’re getting big." In fact, they were no longer infants. Both had grown to the approximate age of six or seven in a few months. Still, they never spoke. Their dark eyes watched me as they ate food from the kitchen upstairs, food I'd hidden from my family.
"More meat," the man demanded.
"Of course." And I ran to the freezer and gave them frozen sausages in the package. They never complained or demanded the food be prepared a different way. No objections from my "husband" either.
Hebat tore the styrofoam and plastic wrap away and flattened the row of sausages stuck together between powerful molars. Hadad contented itself with licking them like a popsicle.
I'd stay until the photo. Then they'd release me by vanishing. Always with an exhausted breath, I'd trudge up the stairs and search for the frames and hide them in the same place.
They only smiled in the pictures. At no other time did they express any kind of emotion unless indifference counts.
My own children and husband weren't doing much better. Their concerns about my fatigue and ruminating slowly ceased as I repeated the excuse: I’m just tired. It'll pass.
Of course, I did not know when the nightmare would stop.
"When will it end?" I asked him one night, while Hebat and Hadad exercised like they had a mission.
"What do you mean?" he said.
I was surprised he answered. He usually didn't. "This. This. When can I go back to normal and not come down every night? I'm so very tired."
He frowned and I thought some punishment must be coming. Instead, he looked more confused. "I don't understand. You aren't happy? Your children grow into power and strength and will take their place in the world. They will be great and you - you, of all the tiny things, made that happen. Ask yourself what you want out of life, and see if Hebat and Haddad aren't your answer."
Too many words, all at once, for an exhausted mother. I didn't speak for the rest of the night. The infernal trio vanished, and the latter moments of the ritual I carried out with his challenge in mind.
I want my children to be strong, happy, and safe.
"Juice," Cara demanded the next morning, a Saturday, while she watched cartoons.
"Get it yourself!" I hissed, from tired to angry in a second.
"But I can't," Cara accurately pointed out. She didn't look away from the TV. Looking at me wasn't safe, and she knew it. Her and Ella held hands and sat a little straighter. It broke my heart. What had I done?
George came downstairs, attracted by my shouting. "What’s going on?"
Empathy became sadness, and the constant burden rekindled to anger swiftly. "Just children treating me like a servant."
He smiled. "Ah, yes, and how are the royal princesses this morning?"
His levity irked me. "You would know if you didn't sleep in so much."
The smile vanished from his face, and instead of the fight I seemed to want, he mumbled a quiet apology and joined the girls. They climbed onto him as he wrapped them into a cuddle.
"What are we watching?" George restarted his smile, his calm, for the girls. I hated myself. It had to end. Tonight.
After another dreary day of going through the motions, and the girls and George had fallen asleep, I went to the kitchen and chose the knife I thought sharpest.
"Kirsty," he said, his voice a whisper rising from the depths of the house.
"Coming," I whispered back.
"Mom," said another voice, a girl's, and I knew that Hebat had, at last, found herself and the wholeness of her being had been corrected.
I started to cry. I went downstairs and there she was with her brother and her father. He looked tired but some of the grimness had cracked to allow the first real contentment I've ever seen him express.
"Is that for the cake?" he asked. "We already have one."
I remembered the sharp knife. "Meat," I said. "There’s ham in the freezer."
He nodded, seeming to accept the answer.
"Mom," Hebat said, "Do you think I'm…" She gestured to herself, her face, and her body, and I understood the question, born from doubt and a desire to be validated.
I pulled her close. "You are the most beautiful girl in the whole world." We cried together. Hadad cut into a poorly made, asymmetrical cake by the light of his aura. No one cared that he did so on the floor. I brought out the ham from the fridge and we ate slices with our hands.
"It's almost done," he said. "They’re nearly grown. They are strong, and they are happy. You've done a good job, Kirsty." He watched our children fight to smear icing on each other's faces. "I'm sorry if I was mean. Or cold. I've never done this before." And he meant raising children. "It was the hardest, scariest thing anyone can try. I shouldn't have blamed you for… Hebat… It wasn't your fault."
Before I could pat his hand, he and the kids vanished. Darkness so familiar couldn't extinguish a new fear. I went upstairs and found the last frame. I held my daughter in the photo, my beautiful Hebat. He must have taken the photo without my notice.
I took it upstairs but couldn't bring myself to hide it.
I didn't see that one, George wrote into the document.
I forgot he was watching.
He typed again: Are you saying there is something in the basement?
Yes, I replied.
He stirred in the living room. I hadn't moved from the stairs, but I could tell by his stomping how angry he'd become. All of his negative, violent traits he saved for those in the world who would harm his family. George the Protector was fearsome to behold.
But he had no chance against my other husband.
"Come out! Come out you coward!" George bellowed. At first, nothing happened. The moment before calamity, even when the specific consequences aren't known, is still in slow motion. He carried on shouting. The girls rushed into the hall and didn’t hesitate to investigate.
"No!" I shouted. "Cara! Ella!"
Their feet padded down the steps. A violent commotion followed, screams and raging voices, both deep and childishly shrill.
The most unsettling quiet followed.
I chewed through the fear and the horror tearing me apart and finally moved.
No evidence of violence could be seen from the top of the stairs. The concrete looked bare and dusty and the light revealed nothing more. They were gone, all of them.
"Hebat," I whispered. "Cara? George?"
Him, I thought of, the nameless husband and felt no hint of his presence. He'd always been there. I know that now. It had nothing to do with the house. His absence was felt more than his insidious presence. Yet, I felt no relief. George and the girls were gone. I sat on the floor and cried for all my missing children.
When I finally emerged from the basement, the whole house had been filled with night. Their photos were everywhere. The others were upstairs. I gathered them on the kitchen island. How could I explain any of this to the police?
I needed help. I called my parents. It took twenty minutes before my father picked up.
"Kirsty? What's wrong?"
"Dad," I whimpered. "George is gone. Cara. Ella."
"What? What did you say?"
"They’re gone, dad. George. The girls are gone."
I heard his bed springs protest as he rolled out of bed. My mom said something I couldn't hear, and he shushed her.
"Kirsty," he said, "are you alright? Are you hurt? Are you in danger?"
Why was it so hard to understand? "Dad. George is gone."
"Kirsty, who the hell is George?"
It was my turn to be confused. "He's my- you know him. My husband…"
"Kirsty," he said very slowly, "are you on drugs? Did you take something?"
"No. Are you?"
"Excuse me?"
I hung up.
I have their photos. I have all of their photos. That's what I brought to George's parents before the sun rose. They wouldn't open the door and spoke to me through an intercom.
"George is gone," I said.
"We'll call the police."
"This is your son. These are your granddaughters."
I heard my mother-in-law say, "Who is she?"
"We don't have a son," my father-in-law said. "Go away."
I left.
Back to the house. Our dream sat empty and I live there, but none of the people in my family photos are my family.
I remember but the world never does. My parents think I'm ill and that I used AI to create the family I apparently never had.
How did I buy the house without a job or income? With deep concern for my mental health, they showed me a news story. I had won the lottery the day I turned eighteen.
His influence there, payment for services rendered.
A lie is an agreement.
What had I agreed to? I'm afraid I know the answer: I never wanted a family.
God help me. God help them.
I don't know what to do with these pictures.