Everyone has something that they would rather not share with others. Perhaps it’s an embarrassing secret about something they did during childhood. It could even be something that would ruin multiple lives if it got out. These Redditors finally revealed the secrets that they’ve been holding in for years.
In my freshman year of high school, I ditched class so much that I flunked the year. I moved to a different town over the summer and somehow they lost my "permanent record" in the mail. It was the early 90s, so they had computers, but they weren't integrated between school districts, so it was just a fat folder of paperwork.
When the new school realized this, they called me in and asked what classes and grades I had, so I straight up lied my way out of having to retake freshman year.
When I was about 8, I was sent to a summer camp for a month. My sister, who was 14, also was there. I had never been away from my parents before. I remember the cabins in the woods. Now, I don't know if I had arachnophobia before this experience, but I recall that the toilet stalls had dozens of daddy long leg spiders all over. The way I handled it was…disturbing.
I was so scared, I just held It in for nearly a week. One day, I just couldn't hold it anymore and had to make a run for the toilets. I did this weird crab walk thing to the toilets, trying to hold it in. I made it Into the main area where the sinks are and just couldn't hold it anymore and just quickly, with one hand, pulled down my pants from behind.
I dropped the biggest dump on the tile floor, all while still in motion towards the toilet. Thankfully, no one was in there to see this. When I walked by later, a large group had formed outside. Inside, one of the staff was covering his face with one hand and holding a hose in the other. No one knew who had done it.
A co-worker retired and I inherited one of his reports, which is one of my employer's Key Performance Metrics. Every two weeks, it would take him an entire eight-hour day to complete. The first week I was able to automate most of it down to one hour. Over the next nearly 10 years, I've improved it to the point that it runs in less than a minute.
I then spend the next eight hours surfing Reddit, watching movies, and just doing whatever I want in my office from home. All this time, I've told my boss it takes me eight hours to perform, and sometimes I'll tack on extra hours because of "technical issues." No questions asked as long as it's in his inbox by the end of the day Friday.
When I ended up in a spelling bee, I quickly realized the girl I was against had put a lot of time and effort into it, whereas I basically just showed up. Plus, she was more on the nerdy side, not a lot going outside of school, and I felt she needed a victory. So I came up with a plan. She missed a word, so I purposefully missed mine to keep her in the competition.
This happened a few times. Later, I missed one on purpose to give her the victory. She went on to the state competition. The teacher giving the words threw me a look of disgust, as she knew what I did, but no one else ever found out.
Going into my first year of college, my parents got me a laptop (a low-end one, but new all the same). This definitely made things more convenient, and I often took it with me to class. A few months into the first semester, I had an exam coming up in one of my classes, so I thought I would get there early and do some last-minute studying.
This particular room was set up with rows of seats with little room between them, with each seat having a small table that folds up. I was there quite early and in a mostly empty room, so I filed my way down a row and pulled out my laptop to look at some notes. Time goes by and we are getting close to the start of class, at which point the room is mostly full.
People have started to put away their notes as the professor is about to hand things out, and since the rows are so cramped most book bags are being put against the walls on the side of the room. So I too pack away my laptop in my bookbag, and out of the corner of my eye, I see someone near me toss their bag towards the wall. To this day, I still regret what I did next.
In a moment of sheer idiocy, my brain decides I should do this too, and just throw my laptop-filled bookbag halfway across the room, where it landed quite heavily. Needless to say, it broke. Now, this was still my first semester after getting the laptop, so I was understandably nervous to tell my family of this lapse of sanity.
So my story to this day has been that I fell asleep on my bed in my dorm (which is raised like a bunk bed) with my laptop, and must have kicked it off the top accidentally. Still an idiot, but at least an unconscious one rather than the absurd cretinism of wilfully launching it across a classroom.
I have a kitten I'm feeding without my wife's knowledge. She hates cats and I found one on the street. Every night before I go home, I stop by the store and get cat food. She always asks me why I come home late every night. I say I'm working. Or out with the guys, but I sit and talk to this stray cat about my problems and how my day was.
I’ve already named her and everything. One night, I went out with a box and some old towels and blankets to pick the cat up and move it closer to our house, to make sure she's safe and out of the cold. I didn't find her when I went back that night so I left the box there. When I went back later, I saw her loitering around and put a collar on her.
Hopefully, I can convince my wife to make her a permanent addition, if not I'll love her from a distance until I can convince my wife otherwise.
When I was a kid, I farted into a little box over and over for a full year. It was a tin some Christmas cookies came in with a picture of Santa on it. Every single time I had to pass gas, I lifted the lid, put it in the box, and quickly closed it. Before long, the box was successfully filled to the brim and ready for deployment.
When my brother was mean to me, I’d take his sunglasses and put them in the box to marinate overnight. Then I’d quietly return them. My brother continually complained to my mom about how they smelled and that they’d sold him a bad pair, and wanted new ones.
In the fourth and fifth grade, I had an obsession with sharp things like knives and razors and would bring them to school. One day, our teacher was reading a book and I was messing with the razor behind my back and cut the overhead projector cord. They could tell someone had cut it but never found the razor blade I hid. But the story doesn’t end there.
20 years later, I find my teacher on the internet who still teaches at the same school. I fessed up and told him where he might find the razor blade in the classroom. Sure enough, all these years later he found the blade with a hole burned in it from the shock. He decided to keep it as a souvenir from his very first year of teaching.
I'm a therapeutic foster parent. When kids leave us to go back home, I am usually really happy for them (unless I don't think their family is going to be able to handle things safely, then I am worried as could be) but I am also selfishly completely heartbroken. I think about our former kids all the time but I don’t talk to anyone about it.
When the kids go home, I try to write our name and phone number in a bunch of their books so they can maybe find us again. And I keep my Facebook page as unlocked as possible hoping they will feel they can reach out if they need anything. I want to foster forever, but I also wonder if I can keep saying goodbye like this. It absolutely guts me and I know I have no right to feel that way.
One time when I was 10, I told a group of friends that I brushed my teeth with hot water instead of cold water just to seem quirky or cool, and man, did it get the reaction I was hoping for. However, it was all a lie. I did brush with cold water. However, it turned out that this lie was too heavy for my pre-teen soul.
Every day since then, I have brushed my teeth with hot water, despite being 15 years older. I feel trapped in my hot teeth scrubbing sentence yet it feels right as a punishment for lying.
I lied my way into a really good job by pretending to have relevant experience. I'm a confident communicator so I've gotten away with some blatant lies in my life. But this is probably the most significant thing that worked out. I honestly did not expect it to, I was just taking a shot. Basically, I had a really vague job title at my last job.
It was very easy to inflate my seniority and responsibilities. This was a remote job where I did NOTHING, I even stopped opening the computer and going to meetings. I learned more detail about the job by speaking to some people who were currently in the position. And took detailed notes so I'd be able to speak the lingo.
Then I thought up all kinds of curveball interview questions and came up with answers. For example, "Tell me about a time you faced a difficult client." I really had nothing to speak to, so I wrote down scenarios I could reference during an interview. I had a list of phony meetings I've attended and relationships with important people I've never met, I figured no one would check.
The interview went well and I got an offer the next day. Believe it or not, I can actually do the job and I feel like I'm helping people for once.
If this secret gets out, I’m so dead. I slept with my mom’s friend. She was 32 and I was 20 at the time. She stopped me one day as I was walking by her apartment and asked if I could take a look at her laptop because the Wi-Fi wasn’t working. I said of course and started looking for the cause of it. While I was on her couch with the laptop she comes out of the kitchen with a bottle and two shot glasses.
At that point, I knew the real reason I was there. Needless to say, there was nothing wrong with her Wi-Fi.
Back in college, I took a computer class and I was way over my head because I didn’t want to take the class and I’m bad with computers. The way tests worked was that we’d open up a blank test template on the computer we sat at and follow instructions. As I was opening up the copy, I saw a copy that the kid before me saved on the desktop.
I quickly wrote down his name and copied the entire test. When the test came back, I got an A. I reached out to this guy and told him what happened. Turns out, he was doing this with someone else in another period too. I ended up getting a 97% in that class, but learned nothing.
I worked at Wendy's during my teenage years. I also had a teenager's metabolism, so I would frequently treat myself to numerous giant meals during an evening shift. I was closing one night and to avoid an awkward ride home with my sketchy manager, I decided to walk the full three miles home through the sleepy suburban streets.
Around the halfway point of my early morning walk, the gallons of fast food in my gut transformed itself into gallons of fetid waste wanting very much to leave my body. Since I was in a residential area without a bathroom nearby, I darted down an alley and hopped a fence into a backyard where I unleashed pure evil from my underside.
I noticed that this yard had all the necessary accouterment to indicate a dog or two lived there. My hope is that the owners didn't take their dogs to the vet with the assumption that Fido's behind had exorcised Mephistopheles.
When I was about eight, I was in a supermarket with my mum and she had to use the bathroom. I was sat on the bench outside waiting and there was one of those “press to break glass” fire alarms on the wall. I wanted to know how hard you had to press it. Well, I was in for a surprise. Not very hard, as it turns out. The whole store had to leave their shopping and go outside, it was well over 100 people.
I’m not sure what happened after that because we just went home. It’s been 20 years and I’ve still never told anyone.
My parents (who live across the country) send my six-year-old daughter checks in the mail for her birthday and Christmas. They want her to use the money to buy something that she really wants. When a card arrives, I tell her Grandma and Grandpa sent her $50 or $100 and that she can buy a toy or something she wants with it.
My secret is that I pay for the toy and I deposit the check in the savings account I set up for her when she was born. She has a few thousand dollars in there now!
I technically failed my driver’s ed class, which I needed to pass so I can get a license in my state. I got one too many questions wrong. The proctor told me to change one of my answers then bring it back. I went back to my table and asked what everyone got for #11. They all gave the same answer so I thought it has to be right.
So I changed my answer, took my test back up to the proctor and she said, “Congratulations, you passed driver’s ed!”
Back in high school, I had a huge crush on a girl. There was some heavy chemistry between us, but despite asking her on a date several times, she always said no. We lost touch after graduation. A few years later, I ran into her at a bar. We got to catch up and it was great getting to talk to her again, it felt like no time had passed.
She said her parents were having a few people over at their place and asked if I wanted to go hang out with them for a while. Turns out everyone had left by the time we got there, so it was just us four. After a few drinks, my friend said she was tired and was going to go home. But the night wasn’t over yet. I told her I'd find my own ride and said goodbye. After she left, her dad asked if I wanted to get with her mom while he watched…so I did.
I was cashing a paycheck with the teller at the bank. She was a friend of my wife and very attractive. Suddenly, everything goes quiet, she’s looking around, says, “I think we just got robbed.” The doors are locked and the authorities show up. I ended up having to stay there for four hours. Eventually, I get questioned by the authorities.
The guy stood directly beside me, almost shoulder to shoulder, when he passed the other teller a note saying he had something dangerous and she had to give him all the money. They asked what I saw. What he looked like, smelled like, anything. I told them I didn’t see a thing. Didn’t even know he was beside me. They looked at me like I was the biggest idiot in the world.
I lied to them and said it was because I was distracted about my paycheck and worried about it not being enough. The truth was much more scandalous. I was completely distracted by how attractive the teller was. She was wearing a super low-cut shirt and I didn’t see a man rob the bank directly beside me cause I was so distracted by her figure.
My secret is…incredibly weird. I like having sand in my bed. Not to the extent that I'm buying sand to put in my bed or that it's up near my head or on my pillow. Just down near my feet, just that little bit that falls off your feet when you get back from a day at the beach. I'm pretty sure it stems from my family trips to Outer Banks and Myrtle Beach as a kid.
Those dog days of summer, spending the whole day just running around, swimming, making sandcastles, digging holes, all to come back to the beach house exhausted, and immediately collapse on the bed. I can vividly remember waking up still dressed in yesterday's clothes, with the smell of breakfast wafting in. It was in those small moments I felt happiest, most content. Like everything in the universe was exactly where it should be.
At the time, the sand left under the covers was a neutral detail. But over time I guess it became subconsciously associated with those special moments, caught in the wake of fonder memories, and now here we are.
When I joined a company fresh out of college. I was given a list of bugs to fix. I fixed most of them, except for this one feature I don’t know how to use. I just deleted the whole feature and submitted it. Got signed off and released. Six months later and after three versions, the project manager asked if the missing feature used to work. I told them I am not sure, must be a bug.
I sold fake medical certificates—doctor’s notes saying that a person was sick—at my university for two years. I got my hands on the template of a local doctor, I even added a note at the bottom saying that it is an “electronically generated note” so it needs no signature from the doctor and people actually brought that.
I wasn't greedy and it was priced pretty low. I used to make about 120 dollars in a good week. I stopped when a guy was caught red-handed selling the photocopied version of mine. It’s been three years since I graduated, but I still get requests in the throwaway mailbox I created for it.
When I was about 12, my Xbox stopped working. At the time, I frequently dog sat for my neighbor who was recently divorced with a younger kid. The kid was pretty awful. He always bragged about getting double presents because he had two families and how his parents were richer than mine. What’s important is that he also had an Xbox.
One day, my Xbox broke. I immediately came up with an ingenious plan. I put it in my backpack and crawled into the neighbor's doggy door when I knew no one was home. I swapped my bricked Xbox for his working one and snuck back out. No one ever knew. His dad bought him a new one right after, according to him. He complained about his lost saves for weeks.
I grew up most of my life with a single father, as my mother left when I was about 7. We struggled with finances and my father worked 12+ hour days to pay bills and keep us from freezing in the winter. When I turned 16, I got a job so that I could "save for college." In reality, I occasionally paid off a bill or two without him finding out.
One time, he did notice that a balance that he thought was overdue was actually at $0, and asked me if I had paid anything. I managed to convince him that it was probably a clerical error and my secret was safe. I did it randomly all the way up until he had his finances stable.
I’ve dated around since high school just to get over this one girl. Me and my high school sweetheart still keep in touch, and it's quite obvious we still have soft spots for each other despite us being in relationships with other people. We don't see each other or flirt, but we catch up platonically over social media a few times a month.
No boundaries have ever been crossed. It's been this way for almost three years now. She just has a little too much interest in my life years later. She also engages in the conversation every time. I’ve done nothing. It kind of throws me off sometimes. The biggest giveaway is when she asked my long-time friend who the pretty girl on my Instagram story was.
That pretty girl is my current girlfriend. She's confused me quite a bit over time, but I never thought too much of it. We both are happy with our current partners, and I wish her nothing but the best.
When I was a kid, I was once in the car with my mom and I really had to use the bathroom. So, I asked my mom to pull over at the bike shop because I had to get a part for my bike because I knew she wouldn’t have stopped if I told her I needed to use the restroom. I sprinted inside the store and asked where the restroom was.
I had maybe eight seconds left before it was too late. I moved as fast as I could toward the door leading to the back and my salvation. Once I hit the door, eight seconds was up. I could wait no longer. I pulled down my shorts and proceeded to leave a trail until I reached the restroom. Once inside I continued to make a massive mess.
I took off my shoes, left my socks behind, washed my hands, and left. As I exited the bike shop I heard the employees start to yell. I jumped in my mom's car while telling her to start driving. She asked me where to bike part was but I just kept asking her to drive. I never went back.
I had an affair with my ex-husband’s cousin John, who was also married. I was actually separated at the time, as my ex-husband had moved in with the woman he was cheating on me with. John would check up on me, cut the grass, and fix things around the house for me. One day he kissed me and I didn't stop him. It was the best relationship I ever had, probably because it was a secret.
We saw each other constantly, texted, talked, laughed, and we fell in love. Sadly he would not leave his wife, all for a heartbreaking reason. They’d recently adopted a little girl that was her relative’s kid. John was a good dad and didn't want the little girl to go through more pain.
When I was a kid, there were these strange white rocks that were near perfect circles all over the place by the bushes in the front yard. I went out to the front yard with a baseball bat and started using the rocks to practice my swing. Across the street is another line of houses, behind these houses is another street.
And then behind that is a huge wooded area. These little pellets that were about an inch thick were making it to the forest with no problem. And I felt so cool doing this. Instant home runs. After I knocked around ten or so I lobbed one up and smacked it. Unfortunately, my mother’s car was parked in the street in front of our house.
I hit the rock at the wrong angle and it went straight for her car window, obliterating it. My face dropped, and I recovered the rock and went inside to put the bat back. Then played video games like nothing happened. My parents just assumed it was some neighborhood teenagers.
The only reason I graduated high school was because of an overly nice, mildly clueless new math teacher. Math has always been my worst subject (between high school and college I’ve failed at least four classes) and I had to complete a business math class in order to graduate. I attended class for about the first week.
We started on chapter 1 which is super easy, so I thought I had it down. Well, my horse-riding lessons happened to be scheduled at the same time as my math class. So after that week I never attended another class and of course, I never said anything. By the end of the semester, I was getting nervous, I approached my teacher and sheepishly apologized for my absence.
I told her that I had a chronic illness and I offered to do some makeup work. I still can’t believe her reaction. She just smiled at me and said no problem, I’ll just take the one grade I have from you (a 95% from the chapter one quiz) and that’ll be your final grade in the class. I got so, so lucky.
My company has been around for a long time so their manual is very outdated but no one has cared to really change things up, so the processes are very old school. After fiddling with excel and some of the processes, I have found a way to improve the process efficiently by 75% making an eight-hour task take only two at most.
The company terribly underpays its employees, including me, so I’ve kept this all to myself. I wake up and work for two hours, then do whatever I want for the rest of the day.
When I was young, broke, and just married, my new mother-in-law seemed to enjoy giving me a hard time. She would come to our house and expect to be served fancy drinks with her preferred brand. She brought a bottle the first time and made it clear there should always be a bottle of it waiting for her whenever she stopped by. Yeah, I wasn’t about to give in to her tyranny.
I couldn't afford that stuff, so when it was empty, I refilled the bottle with some bottom-shelf swill. I kept refilling the same bottle for 10 years at least. One day, my wife came into the kitchen and caught me pouring the plastic bottled drink into her mom's fancy bottle. She said, "Are you putting cheap stuff in my mom's bottle?"
I said, "Honey, that bottle hasn't had the real thing in it in years." She rolled her eyes and it remained our little secret.
My wife has recently become more spiritual, listening to preachers and getting closer to Christ. And I'm kind of over it. We both grew up heavy in the church but it's never been a focal point of our relationship at all. And honestly, the older I've gotten, the less I care about religion or being the proper Christian, if I want to be one at all.
I'm pretty sure I'm closer to being a deist than a Christian. But if I were to tell my wife this, I'm fairly sure that would end in divorce. We've had it rough already and it's just starting to get better for us, somewhat. But her faith is that important to her, that it'd be a deal-breaker if I said I wasn't Christian. She's always accused me, in jest, of being agnostic, or non-Christian.
I just brush it off as, saying I'm the same I've always been. Which is essentially true. But my life would fall apart like crazy, if I were to make some announcement that, I couldn’t care less about religion and my reasons why. So I'm just going to keep my head down and march on, hoping it doesn't affect the good progress and positive direction of my marriage.
I have a guy friend who has a girlfriend that flirts with guys openly in front of him. Once, we all went to a New Year’s Eve party and I kissed her neck which she said she enjoyed so I got a little friendlier with my hands. But that’s not all. We even got to know each other without our clothes, if you know what I mean. I was also dating someone at the time too.
Afterward, she would constantly send me racy photos and I always fantasized about her. She is also best friends with my current girlfriend. Fast forward a couple of years, I’m at their house because my girlfriend and my friend’s girlfriend were roommates. They all went out for a bit and I snuck into her room and smelled her panties and bras.
I’ve never felt more disgusted with myself in my life and I feel extremely gross whenever I think about it. I try to hold myself to a higher standard but sometimes my impulses take over. These impulses have led me to cheat on my girlfriend and I hate myself for it.
Decades ago, before cameras and electronic security, I had a matter in a small-town court go against me because there was no way the judge was going to believe me against the word of the local authorities. Lunch was called after the decision and as the room cleared out I sat there dejected, broke, and angry as anything.
I noticed a very expensive slide projector in its case sitting on the side. I was into cameras and loved collecting slide film but could only look at them on a viewer. I picked up the briefcase-looking projector and walked out as if it belonged to me. I'm aware it was a very, very stupid thing to do but I was young and irrational with anger.
I was incredibly lucky I got away with it. I had that projector for years and always got a good laugh and smile when I used it.
I tell everyone that I don’t know who the father of my son is, but I’m pretty positive about who it is—and there’s a good reason why I can’t tell anyone. It’s been three years since we last met up, but he was married with two kids. I didn’t find this out until after we had started our relationship. He never wore a ring and made himself out to be a single man.
A handful of people were surprised when he walked in with his wife one day at work. Flash forward two years and my friend cheated on her husband with him, not knowing I already had been with him. I told her about our relationship and that he was married with children, and she still continued to sleep with him.
I was taking an exam in college for electrical engineering. The teacher allowed a letter-sized cheat sheet where you could write whatever you wanted; formulas, questions, quizzes, etc. Prior to that exam, I hadn’t attended the class because I had been scheduled for work, so because I thought it was an open exam, I’d be okay.
Well, I realized while taking the exam that all the questions weren’t matching what I wrote on my cheat sheet. I was panicking because halfway in, I haven’t written anything on my exam paper. I was scrambling on my notes to just find something that’s similar, but there was nothing. Time was up and everyone was turning their paper in.
I snuck out and ran to the library, opened my laptop, and looked at my professor’s online lessons. All the questions were based on this one specific document with little changes in his numbers. I finished filling up my exam, then ran to my professor’s office. It was raining at the time, so I was soaking wet. I knocked and the professor answered.
I told him that I may have forgotten to write my name on my test. My plan was to sneak my test into the pile of test papers. I was pretending to look for my name while my left hand was opening my backpack on the floor trying to grab my test paper. I managed to grab my test paper and snuck it into the pile. I left his office nervously, anxiously, and guilty, but I needed this to pass.
I helped my entire class cheat in our eighth-grade history class. The teacher made us memorize every county in our state and where they were. We were tested on them weekly until we had them all memorized and we had a big test covering all of them at the end. I made a map with every county on it and each county had a small number in it.
The numbers matched a separate ledger with the answers. Both sheets of paper were extremely small and would fit in the palm of your hand and were easy to hide. I made copies and sold them.
While in high school, I had a job filling up trucks with fuel at a construction company. Things were going well for three months until I noticed the receipt was $20 more than what it said on the pump. I had become friendly with these people and they said not to worry about it. Eventually, I caught on to what was happening.
They would charge the card $20-$40 more each time I came in and pocket the difference. They then asked if I wanted to split the profits, I said yes. I made $100-$150 a week for two years. My brother then took over for me and he did the exact same thing. I’m not proud of this but I felt the need to tell this story
Some family friends came over with their crew of four young kids, all between 6-12 years old. All the kids usually went outside to play hide and seek. We lived on a farm with five outbuildings on about 6-7 acres. My dad instructs us not to go in one small shed as he had geese eggs in there, that were in incubation and had to stay warm.
The game starts and I make a beeline for the shed, as I know no players would dare to go in the shed as my dad had a terrible temper. The incubator is glowing with its bright light and I unplug it, thinking 5-10 minutes would be okay. When I go to plug it back in, I realize I had actually pulled the cord out of the plug part.
My life flashed before me, knowing I was going to get the belt in front of everyone there, I dropped the cord, snuck out of the shed, and hid at the back of the house, lying on the ground. Ultimately, my dad accuses the second youngest of the visiting family and holds a grudge for the rest of the time.
Throughout college, my fiancée and I would host various drinking get-togethers, and proceed to party college style. I would mix drinks, and my fiancée would pour shots. I love to mix drinks and I am known for it! My entire friend group thinks I make incredible strong drinks. Even my fiancée. But they didn’t know my secret.
I would, and still do, make cocktails or margaritas with half a shot, then provide a straw. I would pour a bit of the liquid into the straw or right on top unmixed, so it tastes stronger. All of them at the time loved shots and partying hard, and I didn’t want anyone to get sick and still don’t. Sometimes I would do a full shot, but never more than one, especially on big party nights.
Additionally, I would switch out shots with water and lime juice.
In a place I used to work, there was a fridge with bottles of juice. I thought they were just for everyone and I took a cup from time to time, always using my coffee mug instead of a glass. One day, I was sitting right next to the only balcony of this floor and so I was chatting with the smokers. One of these was the boss's secretary.
After a couple of weeks, she ranted to me how inconsiderate people are. She always brings her favorite juice and puts it in the fridge and people drink her juice and she's starting to be really fed up with that and is thinking about reporting this to the boss. And I was sitting there, with my coffee mug, sipping her juice, nodding and agreeing how rude this is and how these people should be ashamed of themselves.
When I was nine, I went over to my neighbor’s house (I would usually go hang out with my adult neighbors because they would let me watch TV and give me snacks in exchange for helping them) with the intention of seeing if I could play with the foster puppies she had. Well, she wasn’t there, but her door was unlocked so I just went in and played with the puppies.
When I walked out of the house, she was coming down the driveway (there was a bunch of stuff in front of her door blocking it from view from the driveway). I just pretended like I had been waiting for a minute and we walked in and I got to play with the puppies again.
My fiancée is the only person I actually enjoy being around. I don't say that out loud because it puts unfair pressure on her and exposes my antisocial tendencies. I wasn't always this way—it kind of happened over the past six or seven years after a deep depression and struggle with substance issues. I've been happy and drug-free for several years…but I haven't been the same.
Whenever I manage to make myself hang out with friends, I generally sit there thinking about how long I should stay before I can duck out and go home without looking unfriendly. It’s hard for me to have conversations with people because I just think things like, "When are they going to leave me alone?" or "When can I leave?"
I'm pretty good at hiding it and have several people who consider me to be their friends, but I secretly get no enjoyment out of those relationships. I'm not sure why my fiancée is different, but it makes me very afraid of losing her. I'm almost positive I won't find anyone else that I will be able to love like I do her.
There have been a few months here and there in the past where we split up and I went out on dates with several other women—some of them were very pretty and very nice, but I absolutely hated the entire process and never followed through on subsequent dates.
In eighth grade, someone’s phone alarm would go off for minutes at a time in each class. It was extremely loud and annoying and it would interrupt each class a couple of times. Some of the classes were with the well-known strict teachers and they especially would get furious because they had to wait for the beep to stop before they could proceed with teaching.
Every classmate saw the matter as the biggest mystery and when the sound would go off, we would all stare at each other trying to resolve it. During one of the breaks, I look in my backpack for money...and I made a hilarious discovery. I find one of those old Nokia phones in the first pocket. It turns out every single time I leaned back on my chair, I would press the buttons, making the alarm go off.
I couldn't believe the annoyance and angry teachers scolding us was caused unintentionally by me. Of course, I didn't tell anyone especially since I wasn't a favorite among anyone. I was mortified the moment I found out.
I am the only openly bisexual guy in my broader friend group. I've done stuff, in secret, with quite a few of my so-called “straight” guy friends, but none of them know this about each other, only with me. They all believe they are the only one to have done anything with me. Most of the time, it’s just drunken experimental nights at their request, nothing too serious.
Some liked it more than others. They all act like it’s the most taboo thing ever. If only they knew that a bunch of their other friends have done it too, they probably wouldn't feel so weird about it.
I never graduated high school, but I have an engineering degree. I moved from one province to another and skipped a year of school halfway through the year, missing a grade nine tech credit. During graduation, they called my name, I went up to the front, accepted my diploma folder, took photos with the principal, sat back down, and opened the folder.
There was no diploma. All my friends had diplomas in theirs. I met the guidance counselor the next day and asked what was up. She told me I was one credit short but the university I applied to had already accepted me based on my mid-term grades without seeing a full transcript. The guidance counselor made the issue go away…and I successfully attended university and got my degree.
My boss has a daughter that is the same age as me and he brought her to work one day so she can use the office printer for her college applications. We do security for a building where everyone is working from home so it was just me, him, and her. My boss tells me to show her to the fourth floor and just keep her company so she’s not by herself.
We got to talking, we’re flirting hard, and eventually, we made out and traded numbers. We’ve been hooking up every month when she’s in town from school for the past six months now. My boss has no idea.
When I was around age 12, my dad died in a civil war. After about two years, my mom started a relationship with a dad of a female classmate of mine. She had lost her mom about five years back. Initially, I hated this new life. I hated my stepdad because I felt like he was trying to replace my real dad. But with time things settled down…and me and my step sister fell in love.
It mostly started with mutual emotional support for our similar trauma. Our relationship was never physical, but deeply emotional. This continued to our early 20s, even through our university days. Both of us dated others just to cover things up. There was no realistic way for us to progress our relationship. She even agreed to an arranged marriage.
Meanwhile, I immigrated to a different country. I thought it was over, but I was so wrong. We maintained a long-distance relationship. After five years, she found out that her husband was cheating on her. After a lot of fighting, he divorced her and she is now single. Luckily, she did not have a kid because she was in grad school. Now, she is coming to my country in a few months.
We’re not planning to tell anybody that we’re step-siblings but we do plan to get married. We actively avoid people from our country so that our secret is safe. We really don’t have any idea how to keep it safe forever, but we don’t care either because we can finally be together. For the first time in my life since my dad’s death, I am not depressed.
When I was 10, I was very lonely. My parents had been working day and night to get their start-up business off the ground. It was the classic latch key child scenario. As they say, idle hands are the devil’s workshop. So after several months of spending my afternoons alone with microwave burritos and Transformers cartoons, I decided to diversify my entertainment selection. But I went way too far.
I proceeded to ransack the entire house, making it appear that a person had broken in and rummaged for money. I broke a window, two lamps, smashed the legs off a chair and pulled every file from the cabinets in the office, and tossed them around the room like confetti. I then called my mother and told her I’d just gotten home and found the place burglarized.
She told me to get out of the house and called the authorities on her way home. They arrived with their sirens blaring at about the same time she rolled up. They stormed the house, screaming come out with your hands up! When I saw them bashing through my front door, I knew that I had probably gone a little too far this time.
Long story short, a detective came to take a report after the patrol had cleared the premises. As I was sitting on my living room sofa, surrounded by the tattered remains of my dirty work, the detective looked me in the eyes and said, “There was no break-in, was there?” I was terrified. The man looked right into my soul and knew the truth.
And I knew he knew so lying was pointless. I burst into tears and started blubbering. He walked over, put his hand on my shoulder and said it’ll be alright. Thankfully, I was young enough to escape any charges. My parents weren’t too harsh with their punishment either. I guess they figured it was more a cry for help than the actions of a burgeoning sociopath.
I've seen both of my sisters-in-law without their clothes on. The first time, I accidentally walked in on my brother's wife whilst she was changing. I didn’t realize she was in the room and just walked in. She knows it was me but, we've both just pretended that didn't happen. The other time, my wife’s sister asked me to fix her laptop as it wasn’t working.
It turns out it hadn't had a system update for nearly four years and the computer was filled with all kinds of bloatware and malware. Unfortunately, she kept her pretty explicit photos in a prime position in her downloads folder, which I needed to access to install the updates. I returned her laptop in working condition with a new folder named "Private."
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