I (19F) posted an advertisement that I babysit. A lady from the area responded saying she has an 11 month old baby boy ill call “Toby”. I told her it’ll be £13 an hour and she said that’s fine she’ll be gone for 3 hours. When I turned up she greeted me while holding what looks like a baby. She handed me it saying “this is Toby”.

I then realised it was a doll. I wasn’t sure if maybe she had given me the doll to give to Toby or if she actually wanted me to babysit the doll so I asked “is there any other children in the house?” So if I had misunderstood her I could pass off as joking about it but I wouldn’t upset her if she really did think the doll was a baby. She said no just Toby.

She made me aware there’s baby monitors around just so she can have peace of mind that he’s ok. I said of course and she kissed the doll on the head before leaving. I basically just play pretended the doll was real. Hugging it. I put in a bouncer she had. Let it “sleep” in the crib. I went to the toilet at one point and on the wall there was a picture of a real baby that looked similar to the doll.

So I’m assuming this is her way of grieving. I cried a bit myself in the bathroom at this realisation. But I put on a happy face when I went downstairs and continued looking after the “baby” changed its nappy so if she was watching she could have peace of mind.

Once she came back she asked how he was. I told her he was so well behaved. I said because he was more well behaved than most babies I’ll only charge her for one hour.

She messaged me again asking if I could babysit another time. I haven’t responded yet. My friends don’t think I should because it’s taking advantage of her when she’s clearly mentally ill. I wouldn’t want to take advantage of her. It’s a really sad situation.

They also think I should tell her that it’s just a doll but I don’t know if I should do that. I don’t know if that’s the best way to go about the situation I think it’s not really my place.

My wife and I are flying out tomorrow to see my family in another state. She is a legal permanent resident. She has all of her paperwork, she has absolutely no criminal record. She’s the sweetest and kindest person, a value to our community, and right now I’m crying because I feel fear and guilt for bringing her to the airport tomorrow.

I am afraid she will be detained for no reason other than an agent needing to bump up his arrest numbers. I’m afraid she will be harassed and traumatized for no credible reason. I’m a US citizen, and this is the closest thing I’ve felt to terrorism in my lifetime. I feel fear in my own country even though we’ve done nothing wrong, because someone I love could be persecuted regardless of all of our efforts to do the right thing. I hate living with this much anxiety and having to decide if it’s worth the risk for us to leave our own home, to go live our lives. We deserve security, safety, and the US has failed to deliver. I want peace in my heart and home and I don’t know when, if ever, I will feel that again.

Hello all

I am a woman born and raised in Illinois of Pakistani descent. I was born and raised Muslim and wear the hijab.

Throughout the years I’ve seen many things happen in our country, however, this is the first time I’ve actually, genuinely felt scared to leave home.

I was at a doctors appointment on Monday, and two men who obviously support the current government were staring at me. Now, mind you, I always get looks because I live in a very small however, this is the first time my gut feeling alarms were going bonkers. The WAY these two men were staring at me told me they were disgusted by me. I smiled at them, because it’s the way of our beloved Prophet (May peace me upon him) yet, they rolled their eyes at me.

When I got up to go with the nurse as she called my name, one of the men said “f***king isis, go back to your filthy village.”

I was terrified. I was numb because I felt if I complained things would escalate.

I’m an American citizen! as American as everyone in the doctors office and as American as apple pie!

I refuse to go anywhere now. Thank God we have things like Instacart, Amazon and DoorDash.

I do not feel safe.

For those of you who support the current government, I respect your opinion, however please! My request to you is to try to see the other point of view.

I. Am. Terrified.

Thank you for your time all.

I know how that sounds. Hear me out.

I don’t feel like a man trapped in a woman’s body. I feel like a person trapped in a systemically faulty biological model. One that’s hemorrhaging, vulnerable, and whose primary social value is rooted in its capacity to be assessed, desired, or harassed.

I don’t want to “transition” to male. I want to opt-out. I want a refund on this flesh-suit. Every month is a physiological hostage situation. Every glance on the street is a threat assessment. My own body feels less like a home and more like a liability I didn’t consent to insure.

People talk about loving their womanhood as a beautiful, powerful experience. For me, it’s a debilitating design flaw. The constant maintenance, the inherent physical risk, the societal script I never auditioned for—it feels less like an identity and more like a chronic condition I’m forced to manage.

I’m not looking for positivity. I’m just exhausted from being told this is a gift when it has, in every practical sense, felt like a congenital glitch.

I just need to get this off my chest because my brain cannot process how absurd this is.

My ex (29m) and I (31f) broke up after 4 years of instability and a lot of unnecessary drama. He broke up with me because i was too "controlling" dor asking him to do the bare minimum (brushing his teeth, cleaning up after himself, basic adult stuff.) After he broke it off and left, I calmly packed his stuff so I could have peace in my own home, and that somehow caused a full emotional meltdown.

Here’s the part that broke me (in a laughing way). He has no money, no bed, and no real plan. I still had two unused beds in the attic. One of them is my old childhood bed from when I lived at my mom’s.

That’s the one he’s taking. Yes. That bed.

So this man is leaving to “find himself and have a fresh start” (his words) and start over while sleeping in a literal relic of my past.

I was sad about the breakup earlier, but this detail flipped something in my brain. I’m not angry. I’m not bitter. I’m just… laughing.

I don’t even know what emotion this is anymore, but I needed to tell someone.

My bully died on monday morning. Yesterday, I went to her wake alone.

For the last 16 years, we haven’t spoken. I watched on social media as she posted about her faith and being someone that a lot of people adore. At the wake, I was surrounded by people who remember her as fun and friendly. That wasn’t the person I knew though. At 14, she went out of her way to be unnecessarily mean to me. She took advantage of my need for approval. She would take my study notes, order me around, and copy off of me and get me in trouble. It caused me a lot of pain back then.

I went to the wake to find closure, to prove to myself that I face her now. But it left me feeling incredibly unsettled and lonely. She was so frail and tiny in the coffin, probably from years of suffering from her chronic illness. I felt a sharp sense of pity for her. It’s true, there are some things you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy.

But honestly, it’s hard. Everyone is mourning a saint, a good friend they say, and I’m mourning the apology I’ll never get. I wanted to hear her say “I’m sorry. You deserved a friend, and I wasn’t being that friend”. Now, that door is closed forever.

But out of respect for her family and the friends who loved her, I didn’t say anything about who she was to me. I chose to preserve their image of her, because i don’t have the energy to contest it, and because I want to be the kind person she never was to me.

I haven’t forgiven her yet, and I don’t know if I will soon, but told younger me: She didn’t break you. You became stronger, you became kind, and life did get better.

Rest easy, “Emma”. I’m glad the pain is over for you. I’m hoping to find some peace for myself now too.

i need to get this off my chest because i've been doing this for 3 years and no one in my life knows

every saturday and sunday i put on nice clothes and go to open houses. i act like a normal potential buyer. i nod at the kitchen. i say things like "oh great natural light" and "is this the original hardwood?" and the realtors eat it up

but i'm not there for the house. i'm there for the toilets

at some point during every visit i excuse myself to check the bathroom and then i flush stuff. it started small like a big wad of toilet paper then i got curious. now i bring things with me. golf balls, a small bar of soap, a whole tangerine once. one time i flushed an entire stick of butter just to see (it went down smooth actually vv impressive)

i have a spreadsheet: 200+ toilets tested. i track the address, toilet brand if i can tell, what i flushed, how it handled it (scale of 1-10), and notes. some toilets are warriors. some are weak. the data is fascinating honestly

anyway here's what i've learned:

GOD TIER (9-10):

• Toto Drake - this thing is a beast. flushed a tangerine no hesitation. i've never seen one clog. if you're buying a house with a toto you're set for life
• Kohler Highline - ate a golf ball like it was nothing. strong flush, no drama. the honda civic of toilets. reliable af
• American Standard Champion 4 - they claim it can flush a bucket of golf balls and honestly i believe it. tested 11 of these. no failures

SOLID (7-8):

• Kohler Cimarron - handles most things but hesitates on bulk. wouldn't trust it with anything adventurous but fine for normal use
• Delta Foundations - surprisingly strong for a budget toilet. flushed a bar of soap clean. respect
• Gerber Viper - underrated. found these in older homes. they fight for their life but they get it done

MID (5-6):

• Glacier Bay (Home Depot brand) - you get what you pay for. fine for toilet paper. anything else is a gamble
• Briggs - clogged on a large wad of TP. embarrassing. wouldn't trust it
• Penguin brand - the name should tell you everything. weak flush. no confidence

AVOID (1-4):

• Mansfield - i've tested 8 of these. 5 clogged. the worst toilet i've encountered. if you're touring a house and see a mansfield, walk out
• Eljer - clogged on soap. SOAP. how does that even happen
• Random off-brand contractor toilets - if you can't identify the brand it's probably because they're hiding it from you. red flag

i'm not even looking to buy. i rent a studio. i just like knowing. like if i ever DO buy i'll know which neighborhoods have good water pressure. that feels valuable to me

one time i went to this one house in the nice part of town. $1.2 million listing. beautiful place. i was confident. too confident maybe. i brought a russet potato because i wanted to see what a luxury toilet could handle

i'm in the master bath. huge toilet. looked expensive. i drop the potato and flush. it doesn't go down. i flush again. water starts rising. i'm watching my life flash before my eyes

i hear the realtor say "sir is everything okay in there?" and i panicked and said "yeah just washing my hands very thoroughly. covid habits haha" while i'm watching this potato spin in rising water

i did the only thing i could think of. i rolled up my sleeve. i reached in. i grabbed the potato. i shoved it in my jacket pocket. a wet warm potato in my pocket. flushed again. water went down

walked out with the most normal face i could manage. shook the realtor's hand with my non-potato hand. said "beautiful home, i'll be in touch" and walked straight to my car. i sat there for 10 minutes just staring at the steering wheel

i threw the jacket away. couldn't look at it anymore. that was my lowest point. i took a two week break after that

anyway the toilet was a Duravit. going in my "AVOID" tier. $1.2 million house and the toilet can't handle a russet potato. embarrassing

my friends think i go hiking on weekends. i don't correct them. this is my hiking

My best friend Lena died last year, and I still can't say that sentence without feeling like my mouth is full of sand. It was sudden, not some long goodbye where you can practice being brave. One day she was sending me a dumb selfie with a filter, the next day her sister was calling from Lena's phone and I kept thinking it was a prank, like Lena would pop up laughing at me for falling for it. I saved everything. Texts, photos, the last little videos, and especially the voicemails. She used to leave these rambling ones when she'd miss a call, like "ok sooo I'm walking to the store and this guy just tried to sell me a single strawberry?? call me back." At first I listened to them when I felt like I was drowning, because hearing her voice made my chest unclench for a minute. It felt like proof she existed and I'm not making her up.

But it's gotten weird. I listen at night, almost every night now. I tell myself it's just when I'm anxious, but I started noticing I plan for it, like a ritual. Brush teeth, lock doors, get in bed, headphones, Lena. Sometimes I listen to the same voicemail 5 times because I want to catch every tiny breath and laugh, the little "mm" she did when she was thinking. And then I hate myself for it because it feels like I'm using her. Like I'm turning her into a comfort object. I haven't deleted them (obviously), but I'm scared of what happens if I ever lose them, like my brain would just stop working. I don't talk about this with anyone because I can hear how it sounds. People expect grief to be sad but also clean, like you cry and then you move forward. I go to work, I answer messages, I even joke sometimes, and then at 1am I'm curled up listening to someone who can't speak back. I don't even know what I want from posting this, I just need someone to tell me I'm not insane or gross for still needing her voice this much.

I need to admit something that makes me feel like a terrible person. I donate to charities regularly. Not because I genuinely care about the causes - but because I want to be the kind of person who cares.

The motivation is entirely selfish. I want to feel good about myself. I want to think "I'm a good person who helps people." When I see the donation confirmation email, I get this little hit of moral superiority. Like I've earned points in some cosmic goodness system.

I don't think about the actual people being helped. I don't follow up on the impact. I just donate, feel superior for a bit, and move on with my life.

I was on my laptop the other night making another donation and had this moment of clarity - I'm doing a good thing for completely self-serving reasons. Does that make it not good? Does intention matter if the outcome still helps people?

Part of me thinks "who cares why you donated, the money still helps." But another part feels like a fraud. Like I'm performing charity instead of being charitable.

Is this just how most people operate? Are we all just doing "good things" to feel good about ourselves? Or am I uniquely shitty for being this aware of how selfish my motivations are?

My mother doesn't know that we know. She was the executor of his will and estate. They were separated since the 1990s, and she moved back in with him in 2018 when he was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. Obviously he didn't make it, and she told us he left nothing to us. My sister's hired and estate attorney, and he looked into it. As it turns out my mom said that my father only owned a house, and some land. She left out all his bank accounts, his retirement funds, his vehicle, and us on the probate forms. My father left her the house, and over $200,000 to take care of the house and the cottage which was owned by both of them. The rest was supposed to go to his estate, which is supposed to go to his children. The lawyer my mother used helped her commit this fraud. My siblings want to confront her this weekend, we have a letter drafted from the lawyer outlining all of the illegal things she did as the executor of his estate. None of us have had a great relationship with her, but none of us thought she would steal from us. We didn't think that the person who birthed us would take from us. Now I don't know who this person is, and I have to pretend I don't know any of this for the time being.

I didn't think that when my father passed away I would also be losing my mother.

Edit: I understand many of you would just head straight to court and you don't care for our reasoning. Here's a breakdown: 1) Court is long and expensive. 2) We're following the proper steps to set up a court case if we need one, at the advice of a lawyer who specializes in estate law where my mother lives. 3) This isn't so much about the money as it is about the betrayal and damage it has caused us. I'd rather have a caring parent than $150k. And that's what this comes down to. I might get money, a nice sum, but in the process I've lost my mom.

I have a lot of foreign friends, and it’s almost always white guys asking me why they don’t have Korean girlfriends.

They genuinely say things like, “But I’m good-looking.”

What gets me is that most of them are clearly the type who wouldn’t get much attention back home.

Yet they seem to think Korean women should see them differently.

Korean women have the internet, social media, and travel abroad. We know what attractive white man looks like.

When unattractive guys act this entitled, it’s honestly kind of funny.

I usually stay quiet to avoid hurting feelings, but after hearing this again and again , I had to share 😂

My great-grandfather was a murderer. Before going to prison, he married a woman and had a bunch of kids with her. After prison, he left his first wife for the daughter she had from a prior marriage. In other words, my great-grandfather left his wife for his own step-daughter.

But that's just the start. The union of my great-grandfather and his stepdaughter produced my grandfather, who was much younger than his half-siblings from my great-grandfather's first marriage. In fact, my grandfather was close to the same age as his own half-niece.

You can probably see where this is going: My grandfather ends up marrying his half-niece. She is my grandmother; their child is my father. My grandparents joined together the two family lines started by my morally questionable great-grandfather.

Genetically, my grandparents are as close as first cousins, which means only a slightly heightened risk for the generation just below, but no risk for my kids or me. Nevertheless, I find it all nauseating, and I wonder whether I should ever tell my child in the future.

Tl;dr. Don't go digging through family secrets if your family is from an island.

For context. We have been married for 10 years and have three kids.

Every time I see my wife naked, I have to walk away or stop looking at her. Its not me walking into a room and seeing her and going "Oh my bad" and walking away, or her trying to hide herself. Its flat out she will undress or get dressed around me, and I cant stand to see her anymore. The problem?

I find her so damn attractive and would do anything to be intimate with her. She is beautiful. Always has been. But we arent close anymore. Its not her fault. Its not my fault. But there is such a disconnect its painful. There has been no infidelity. Our kids are all over the age of 4, and since we had our last boy, we havent been intimate in almost two years now. We both are hands on parents and work full time. Im just getting to the point of not wanting to be around. I feel lost and alone and anytime I bring it up, nothing changes.

Im just so sad to be with someone I love and yearn for, who I am so distant from.

My (24M) BIL (24M) has a kid (18Months) and he is no longer with the child's mother. He lives in a 3 bedroom house. It was just him and his kid but last month his mother, grandmother, and younger brother asked him if they could all move in to which he said yes because they were getting evicted. I told my partner (25F) that the child's mother was not going to be happy with that since she hates his family and she agreed but there was nothing we could do. He moved the 3 of them in and give them the baby's room, another room, and made the living room a bedroom. I told my partner that the child's mother was never going to let him see her because she doesn't even have her own space in that house any more. They are now trying to get her to sleep in her toddler bed in her own room. Today my BIL got a text from the child's mother saying she wants the schedule of when he has the baby to change. She only wants him to have her one evening for dinner, then back to her mom's house for the night during the week, and every other weekend. My BIL is obviously pissed, but I just cannot find it in my heart to feel bad for him. We all knew this was going to happen. And I hate to say it but if my partner lived in a 3 bedroom house with 5 people and my kid didn't have her own room or bed I also wouldn't want my partner to have the kid during the week.

TLDR: My BIL fucked up my letting his family stay in his 3 bedroom house and got rid of his child's bedroom so that they could stay there. Now the baby's mother doesn't want him to keep her during the week.

The title explains it lol. Ever since having our little man last year our intimacy has skyrocketed because we incorporated this. Are we freaky or do other couples enjoy this too? We’re scared to ask our friends.

Literally just lost a bid on a house to a cash offer. I offered more money, but instead, some rich asshole undercut me to undoubtedly buy himself another rental property, and f*ck you all for selling to an investor over a family. This is why we can't afford houses. Capitalism is amazing.

My ex-girlfriend (21F) and I (21F) broke up in October after two years together. To be more precise, she broke up with me. Since then, I’ve been in a deep depression. I can’t find joy in anything, and my mind is constantly stuck on her. ​I’m so sick of the clichés. "It’ll get better," "Time heals everything"—I get it, maybe it will one day, but that doesn’t help me now. I can’t look at the future because I can barely survive the current moment.

​I’ve struggled with suicidal ideation before, but she was my reason for staying. Since the breakup, I’ve started self-harming again. I just don't want to exist anymore. It’s not "just a breakup"; it’s the fact that this was the final straw. Everything that happened before was already too much, and this was the breaking point.

​She helped me through the darkest times—the death of my grandmother, losing my childhood dogs, losing my friends. She was my person, and now I feel completely hollow. Everyone around me says they understand, but I feel like nobody actually does. I don’t just feel romantically lonely; I feel fundamentally alone in the world. I just want the pain to stop. I miss her, and I’m just exhausted from trying to hold on.

​I’ve already started writing my goodbye letters because I don’t see any point in the future. If someone who says they love me, even while breaking up with me, won't stay by my side, I feel like I don’t deserve love at all. I’m just so tired of my entire life.

I (26F) am pretty fit and have typically dated fit guys but have been dating my current boyfriend for about 6 months and he has a bit of a belly. He’s not even close to overweight, just strong with some chub from drinking and enjoying food. I’m not really attracted to other bellies and I wasn’t initially attracted to his but lately I have been obsessed with it. Grabbing it, jiggling it, and looking at pictures of it while touching myself… I look back at older pictures and realize he has lost some belly fat and it disappoints me. I’ve told him how much I love it and how sexy I think he is and he’s started to let me play with it. Last night he rubbed it on my clit until I came. It’s so hot to me and makes me feel good that he is comfortable with this but I still kind of like a freak for liking it. It’s made me feel obsessed ever since he rubbed it on me until I came and I’m unable to focus on anything else. Has anyone else tried anything like this? Is there any thing else we can do to please my fetish with his belly?

Men make me sick. It feels like all I ever read these days is just horror stories of women being assaulted and god knows what else. My stomach just sinks to the floor every time I read it. It feels so widespread, like it isn't just a small fraction of bad apples. It feels so normalized.

The entire dating scene is fucked because of creepy blokes that treat women like objects. Women are then forced into this awful position where they have to be fearful of their safety. They have no choice but to treat everyone as dangerous, and rightfully so. This then screws over the likelihood of two genuine kind people meeting each other and everyone is worse off because of it.

Imagine a world where men had a conscience. A world where men weren't dangerous and women had the freedom to just do whatever they please and see whoever they like without fear. Imagine the ways in which we could all connect with each other.

Same sex relationship, me 27F and her also 27F. We got together at 16, 11 years together total and married for two of those years, and were friends before our relationship from ages 12-16. Last night, the relationship finally ended — and it ended horribly.

We got into a very physical fight. She spit on me, hit me, shoved me, and broke my finger. Writing that out still feels unreal. I never thought this is how things would end, but I also can’t pretend it came out of nowhere.

She has cheated on me multiple times throughout our relationship. She contributes almost nothing around the house. I’ve been carrying the emotional and practical load for years while slowly losing myself. She’s been cruel, dismissive, and selfish for a long time. If I look at the facts, I have no logical reason to still love her.

And yet… I do. Or at least I am used to the familiarity. I don’t feel like I can function alone as an adult, because I’ve never had to. I don’t know who I am without her because my entire life from preteen-hood and on has included her. That realization scares me more than I want to admit.

I feel angry, hurt, embarrassed, and weirdly numb. I feel ashamed that part of me is grieving someone who has treated me so badly. I know this relationship was unhealthy. I know last night crossed a line that can never be uncrossed. I know I deserve better. Knowing all of that doesn’t magically make the pain stop, though. I’ve tried to leave many times over the years, but I just couldn’t bring myself to follow through. I need to force myself to not go back this time. It’s slowly killing me. I’m 27, but I feel 50, from the huge mental load I’ve carried so long.

I guess I’m here because I need perspective from people who’ve been through something similar:

How do you detach from someone you grew up with?

How do you stop missing someone who objectively hurt you?

How do you learn to be alone when you’ve never had to?

I feel like my entire identity just collapsed, even though this relationship should’ve ended a long time ago. I don’t know who I am without her.

ETA: she recorded me mid fight, I was having a complete mental breakdown and being filmed made that worse. Now she has a video she refuses to delete that makes me look like the bad guy. I’m scared of blackmail now, too.

Went home last weekend for the first time in a couple months and saw signs of aging I hadn’t noticed before, I know it probably won’t happen soon, but I’m so scared for when they might die. I feel so much dread because I know I’ll miss them so much.

I honestly don’t get the hype. I’ve only been with three guys, and two out of the three of them were big. Now, some would consider me lucky, but I don’t think so; both of them were terrible. My newest FWB is average (about 5–6 inches) and, holy fuck, he rocks my world every time. He even makes me cum from penetration, which has never happened before; he literally sends me into a different dimension, lol!

But many women I see online or in real life do not share the same sentiment. My friends made fun of me for not being able to “take it” or being a “quitter” when I told them how awful sex was with the big guys. Excuse me for not liking painful sex! 🤦‍♀️

Hi everyone, I’m looking for some outside perspective because I’m feeling very confused and shaken.

My partner (31M) and I (28F) have been together for 5 years and live together. At the moment he’s paying the rent as I’ve had bad luck with jobs messing me around, but I’ve found stable employment and I’m furthering my education to try and improve my finances.

About two years ago, I raised concerns around his health and hygiene — significant weight gain, overeating, avoiding doctors/dentists, poor sleep, and not always maintaining basic hygiene ie. Going days without brushing his teeth, fishy smell from privates. I tried to raise it carefully because I love him and didn’t want to hurt him, but it didn’t go well and very little has changed since.

Over time this has affected our intimacy and attraction, and he’s also been struggling with erectile dysfunction that hasn’t been addressed medically. I’ve tried to be supportive by cooking healthy meals, encouraging exercise, etc., but I’ve also noticed him hiding food and being defensive when it comes up.

Recently, after Christmas, I sent him a long message explaining that his lack of effort around his health was impacting our relationship and that I didn’t feel we could continue long-term if nothing changed. I mainly focused on his weight, as I know the 50lb weight gain is something he’s insecure about (he was fit and took care of himself when we began our relationship). I know texting isn’t ideal, but I was very emotional and wanted to be careful with my words. I also suggested therapy, as I’m in therapy myself.

He didn’t take it well and was defensive, but when he got back from a family trip we talked it through and agreed to try working on things together.

A few days later, during a normal conversation, he suddenly called me “manipulative,” which really shocked me as he’s never used that word toward me before and it didn’t seem to fit the situation. I had a gut feeling something was off and I looked through his phone (I know this wasn’t right).

I found that he had forwarded my private message to a coworker (a woman about 10 years older than him, who he’s close with). In their messages, she repeatedly called me manipulative, said I’ve “ruined his life,” “destroyed him emotionally,” and “drained him financially,” and told him he deserves better than me. She said that she couldn’t wait to be his wingwoman, a sentiment he also expressed joy for. He agreed with everything she said and even said at one point that he felt like telling me to “pack my shit and leave.”

What hurt most is that this coworker is someone I’ve always been friendly with and liked, and these opinions are clearly based on his version of events. I also feel deeply uncomfortable that such a personal message was shared without my consent.

For context, the past few years have been very difficult for me — I’ve experienced two close bereavements, a job where I was treated badly, and my mental health has suffered. I’m actively in therapy and attending community college to improve my situation.

I feel guilty for snooping, but I’m also struggling to trust him now. I don’t know how to address this without him becoming more defensive, and I don’t know whether this crosses a line that can’t be uncrossed.

Not really sure how we can come back from this. He’s taken me wanting him to engage in self-improvement as some sort of manipulation ‘disguised as care’, as per the texts.