"When I was nineteen I was in love with my best friend Paige. We had known each other since preschool, but only became friends first year of secondary. And one day she told me that she liked me. Now I know what you're thinking, 'We're not really surprised by this, it's a common thing that happens between two different gendered people?'
But that's not the secret.
The secret is what she said to me after I asked her, 'Why only tell me now?'
She said that she was diagnosed with bone cancer and wanted me to know that she always cared about me. That was the first time I cried in front of her. We hugged for a little bit, and I could see the tears start to form in her eyes. She died a few months later.
I'm thirty-two now, and married to my lovely wife, but I still remember the heartbreak I felt. I know I'll never forget it. I can only say it now because now I'm happy that she got to get everything off her chest" (Source).
"While living in Paraguay as a Christian missionary, I met and talked with dozens of strangers on a daily basis encouraging them to come to church and strive to be better people.
One night a man I was talking to recounted how he had once stumbled into an alley where a woman was being raped by a group of men. He brandished a firearm and the men released her. He went on to describe in vivid detail how he trapped them in the alley at gunpoint and proceeded to execute each and every one of them" (Source).
"I was 27 and slept with my neighbour after a few weeks of flirtation. She had divorced six months ago and was in a custodial battle for her child. After sex, she took out her cigarette in the dark and started to smoke. The type of smoking that isn't post-coital, but one where you go into deep thought. I thought she might have felt guilty about the entire event - like whether or not she felt we might have been better off as friends.
Me: 'What's wrong?'
Her: 'I never truly enjoyed sex. I had a lot of sex with my husband but I don't enjoy it.'
I felt a bit bummed. I thought I didn't do a good job. I thought I did, but clearly I didn't.
Me: 'Uhm, how come?'
Her: 'I was raped when I was 10. I had a baby when I was 11 and [they] forced me to abandon her at my hospital.'
Me: 'I'm sorry...'
Her: 'I still think about her. I wonder what she's like and if she's had a good life. She would be 17 right now.'
I couldn't really respond to that. It was overwhelming to hear something that still gives me a pause.
Her: 'I want to find her.'
We didn't speak much after that. I did meet her recently. She was living in a polygamous relationship with her divorce attorney and his wife; got her son back and seemed to be genuinely happy. She had basically 'let go' - gotten fatter, her hair was gray but still looked pretty at 38. We did speak about her long lost daughter over coffee - she said she was still looking for her. I hope she finds her one day" (Source).
"I was about 12 when my grandma laid a huge shocker on me. I was wanting something from a store we were in, and I guess to shut me up, she decided to tell me that's she was not my real grandmother. It worked for sure. My mom was understandably pissed off, and I was more confused than anything.
Being the curious child I was, I wanted to meet her, which is where the second shocker came in. I did meet my real grandmother, and discovered she's a complete nutcase. She lives in a wheelchair, not because she needs one, but because it gets her extra sympathy. She's drug addicted, and delusional in a religious way. You cannot wear the color red around her without her accusing you of being Satan, for example. I totally see why she was kept a secret from us kids.
I only met her twice, and have never had an interest in seeing her again. She may biologically be my grandmother, but she's definitely not a grandma to me" (Source).
"Here's a little story which surprised me on several levels. About 16 years ago I was taking a college computer course. One day before class begins I'm sitting in the lab with a woman. She was good looking, younger than I was but still in her mid 20s. We had talked once or twice before but I didn't really know her well, we were just classmates.
She asks for my advice. She wants to have a threesome with her husband and her female best friend. However, her husband was a conservative type of guy (and a police officer) and she doesn't know how to broach the subject with him. She wanted to know what to say to him.
Why this woman, mostly a stranger, was asking a classmate about how to talk to her husband concerning a private sex act I'll never know. So what advice did I give her? I told her that threesomes are something every (or nearly every) guy dreams about. But coming suddenly from his wife will be suspicious. Guys are cautious about their wives/GFs 'testing' them with odd questions or situations. I told her he will be suspicious so go slow with him. Invite the friend over for dinner, introduce the two, get them friendly. Go slow, mention the subject but reassure him the request is in no way a 'test' of his loyalties or vows. Too bad I never learned what the outcome of the situation was" (Source).
"When I was twelve years old, my sister, who was ten years older than I was, returned from California where she and her Air Force husband had been stationed. She brought her three children, the youngest one being just a new born infant. They stayed at our home for a period of time waiting for her husband to complete his military obligation.
My mother was a character, to say the least. She loved children and was greatly loved in return. But while she loved children to the maximum, she hated insects with a passion. One day she placed the newborn baby in her crib for an afternoon nap, closed all the windows, pulled down the shades, and discovered a mosquito in the room. She excessively sprayed the room with 'Insect Killer Spray' and tightly closed the door. No one knew what she had done.
Sometime later, my sister went to wake her child to find her dead in her crib. The ensuing chaos is something I will never forget, but there was no reviving the child. The Coroner ruled the death as result of a Crib Death. My mother remained silent about the mosquito.
Life went on, and the tragedy became only a memory for our family.
Decades later, as my mother lay dying from cancer in my sister's home, she confessed to my sister what had really happened. Certainly, the child's death was a tragedy. However, we all came to realize the secret my mother had lived with for so many years was also a terrible tragedy. The guilt must have been incredible for such a woman who loved children as she did" (Source).
"I've heard the most bizarre deep secret from a friend of mine after some heavy drinks.
He used to peek over toilet stalls at his workplace using his phone's camera. And there's one time he peeked over and saw a colleague masturbating in the toilet stall. And... that colleague also caught him peeking at him at the same time. Both were shocked and dashed out the toilet stalls.
So they met outside the toilet stall, frozen on their feet awkwardly. My friend didn't reveal how, but eventually both of them came to a mutual agreement to not speak about what they saw and did between them.
On the next day, my sober friend could not recall what he said the previous night. Till this day I did not tell him that I knew his weird-toilet-peeking-secret to avoid the unnecessary awkwardness" (Source).
"I was working in a factory and got to know Fred. He was a caring, working class, warm, portly person who would help anyone. He had children whom he doted on. He wore blue overalls and smoked a pipe. One day he spoke about his marriage. The day his wife was dying in the hospital. For a long time he had suspected his wife was having an affair with a guy called Tommy. It seems, that at death, the alternative lives people live can be revealed. Consider the scene. He sat there with his wife, comforting her through her final hours, after years of marriage and child rearing together. She shouted from her deathbed, 'Tommy is that you. Where are you Tommy?' The nurse coming in and out, comforting her, knew her husband's name was Fred. She said nothing but quietly went about her business.
So it carried on. 'Tommy are you there? Come to me now Tommy!' He stayed there by the bed, stoic and unmoving. 'Tommy, Tommy-is that you?' So he bore the pain. Ate it down while ministering to his wife in her final moments on this earth. Her final moment came. 'Tommy hold my hand.' Fred held her hand. He was her husband yet pretending to be her secret lover to ease her passing.
When he told me, the interaction was out of the blue. It occurred while we two workers stood next to stacks of steel in a vast anonymous factory. The surprise was the quiet impulsivity of the disclosure. I was a co-worker yet a stranger in some ways. I felt ennobled by what he told me. A sad flake of his life that he endured and tried to do the right thing" (Source).
"For the last three months I've had a regular customer at the bar. From the very first encounter I have been riveted by her extraordinary beauty and unrivalled elegance, always clad in an impeccable business suit.
'Good evening, ma'am. What may I get you to drink?' I greeted her at the first encounter. She ordered several shots of vodka at once. Putting the shots in front of her, I established eye contact and smiled in preparation for a potential conversation. 'It's cold out there tonight. Hopefully the weather prospects are going to improve at least a bit.' I remarked.
'I'm not in the mood to talk, miss. The check, please.' she said curtly.
'Right away, ma'am.' And off I went in order to bring the bill. She paid, drank her shots one after the other, but without great rush. When she was done, she said good-bye and went out. This routine was repeated several times almost in precisely the same order for up to three months. The only variation had to do with the hard drinks that she ordered. The Thursday succeeding Christmas Eve she came into the bar again, took a seat and ordered three whiskey glasses. After the first, she surprised me by a totally unexpected and weird question: 'Miss, what do you think when you see me?'
Inwardly I was taken aback, because I counted on her ignoring me and focusing on her drinks just like all the times before. Nonetheless I could answer without difficulty, because during all of the encounters she confirmed every time the impression she made on me: 'To be honest, ma'am, you're undoubtedly one of the most beautiful and elegant women I've ever seen. It's clear from the way you look and the way you dress, that you are well-off and very likely a very successful professional.'
'That's the superficial. What about the hidden?' she inquired.
'It's hard to say, ma'am, because I don't have much to go on, frankly.' I replied sincerely.
'Are you sure, you couldn't observe anything? You can be upfront.' She pressed me to confide in her without restraint.
'Well, ma'am, with all due respect, but I couldn't fail to notice a profound sadness in your eyes every time I've seen you here.' I rejoined, hoping that my answer wouldn't offend and upset her.
'Very perceptive. Would you say that you admire me and look up to me?' She asked further.
'Very much so, ma'am, although to be honest, I don't think that I could ever consider myself to have the class to play in your league.' I answered honestly. She laughed bitterly.
'You're either actually this naive or you are a very good diplomat. Let me tell you, that there's nothing to admire and to look up to here. I'm married and I have a daughter, who is around your age, maybe a bit older. Never mind. My husband cheats on me constantly just the way I cheat on him. Our daughter is messed up, because we only pushed her towards excellence at school and pretty much everything that she ever has done was analysed under the light of its potential to push her ahead in life. I'm not an emotional person and neither is my husband. Unfortunately, our daughter is and we never cared about the way she experiences life. Dominate or be dominated, that's all I know and my husband isn't different. As a result she hates both my husband and me. It's only a matter of time for her to snap and then very likely she's going to end her life, because she can't cope with the mess that her father and I have turned her into. I know all of this and yet emotionally I'm too cold to do anything about it. I just can't reach out to her. Still admiring me, sweetheart?'
She then asked for the check, paid, said good-bye and went her way. I haven't seen her again" (Source).
"When I was about 30 years old, I was having a drink with my mother. She got a little drunk and said something about my father and 'when Trent was born.' As far as I knew, Trent was the son of a lady friend of my father's. Trent was a few years older than me. I had spent some time with him and his brother in San Diego and I had a bit of a crush on Trent when I was a teenager.
I realized that my mother had just said something about my father being the father of Trent, but she quickly realized what she was saying and wouldn't talk about it any more.
I have 2 half sisters who are very much my sisters. They were adopted by my father and I have grown up with them. I had no idea they were my half sisters until my oldest sister decided to marry my father's nephew and my cousin. That is an entirely different story.
It took me several months or more, but I eventually got up the nerve to ask my dad about it. He confirmed to me that I have a half brother. He said that Trent doesn't really know about it. The problem is that my father was having an affair with a married woman whose husband was a big deal in the Navy and was away at the time of their affair. When the father returned home, he thought the baby was his and probably did to his dying day. My dad was just considered a friend of the family to them" (Source).
"I had a boyfriend who was very charming and congenial, aside from being physically attractive, tall, and athletic. He was fairly popular and tended to be happy-go-lucky, loud, and comical to the point of being annoying; however, one of the things I liked about him was that even in our most heated fights, he maintains a caring attitude and exercises caution against using hurtful words.
You never know what a person has gone or is going through. Appearances are deceitful. I wrongfully deduced from his easy-going nature that he had things completely figured out; either that, or he's blissfully shallow. But one December evening in my house, I never saw him the same way again.
We were watching a movie on the couch and had a conversation. Initially, it was about trivial matters, but it gradually deepened, until he said there's something he has to confess. It's about something that's haunted him all his life, and how he's told only two other people.
He was sexually abused at nine years old, by a female classmate's mother. The finer details were really disturbing: the abuser would tell my ex's mother that she's going to take him out for a while so he can play with her daughter, but that was just a ploy to provide her an opportunity to molest him. This went on for a while, and my ex at the age of nine obviously didn't know better and believed they did what they did out of love. This woman would then inflict emotional abuse by flirting with men her age with the intent to make him jealous. There were moments he couldn't be seen shirtless due to hickeys all over his body. Eventually, when she got tired of him, she ignored him completely and acted like nothing happened. He cried so hard confessing this, and it was appalling that this person who I've always regarded as unbreakable and carefree suddenly seemed so fragile. Recounting that moment still hurts me to this day (5 years later), but I could never imagine how it must be like for him to carry that pain all his life" (Source).
"Mom being asked to abort her third kid by a lot of our relatives (well of course she didn't heed to them). And when they came to know that the kid was autistic they layered the guilt in so thick that she felt like taking her life.
I was shocked when I heard this from my grandmom. The relatives I had always loved, looked up to had almost driven my mom to suicide because she bore an autistic child. I was a young kid and didn't know the troubles or the taunts my parents heard. All I knew then was my little brother was special and he deserved all the love in the world" (Source).
"In Israel I had been working in an internet provider company for a year. I met a guy at work who became quite a good friend with me. He was a son of Jewish emigrants from Russia, and had previously lived several years in the US. He was a very cultured, educated person, knowing several foreign languages including German. We often discussed German literature an other similar subjects with him. But when I asked him how he came to learn German, he told me he had been a member in a neo-Nazi gang and learned the language to read Mein Kampf. While the existence of neo-Nazis in Israel was not new to me, I was really surprised to meet one (albeit a former one) in person, and one being an educated friendly man" (Source).
"Before sex, this woman---whom I've been dating for about a month or so---told me that she wants to tell me something first. She then admitted to me that she has a kid. A young boy of about 3. I was also the first boyfriend she ever told her kid about (she had 2 boyfriends before me).
This was really surprising because she really looked like someone who didn't have a kid. She was hot and young and hip and sexy, with firm boobs. The first time I went down on her, I didn't even notice! (Or maybe I didn't know how to look).
What I did next resulted into a 6 year love-hate relationship with this sexy and beautiful psychopath: I used my penis brain to think instead of my regular brain.
I bet if she knew this, she'd be the one with the story" (Source).
"I found out a childhood neighbor had an affair, left his family, moved to another country and just disowned his previous life. The most stable, normal, happy family. Overnight, just melted apart. Shows we have no idea what is going on behind closed doors" (Source).
"A close relative revealed to me that back in 1946, his great-grandfather took him and his brother for a walk down into an empty ravine. As they were walking, his grandfather began relating the story of a 'sissified squatter' that used to have a small shack down on the ranch land they were walking on. He told them how nobody liked 'sissy-boys' in those parts. He emphasized how that guy was just asking for trouble for acting like a girl.
The grandfather stopped the boys at one point on their hike, and pointed down into the mouth of a dark cave. There, he revealed some bones and a bleached-white human skull. 'That's where that sissy-boy rests today,' the grandfather told the horrified kids. 'Let that be a lesson to you, boys.'
The three of them walked home in silence, and the boys had nightmares with skeletons haunting their dreams for years thereafter. If that relative was being truthful, then I'm so ashamed that I am related to that awful man" (Source).
"My own brother revealed to me that he was a millionaire when the entire family thought he was simply modestly well-off.
So back in 2013, my family thought our brother was doing moderately well. My parents bought even more into this idea when he bought a nice but still used car. He bought it second hand and it actually had a dent in the back. The car was probably only worth $10k.
At some point, he calls me up and tells me he was about to buy in 200k of some Italian dividend stocks. At first, I was shocked, and asked him how the heck did he raise so much money. He was very evasive and eventually convinced me (or I convinced myself) those 200k were savings from the previous years.
A few weeks later, he asks me again about some stocks (I knew the Italian and Portuguese stock markets very well back then). As Bloomberg didn't show all the details on the stocks we were looking at, he logs in into his online broker, in safe mode (where the total of your portfolio and cash are not shown). He opens up the transaction tab, and I realized he had over $2m in transactions lately.
I go crazy. I ask him how that was possible. I remember I actually asked him whether he was into some kind of illegal scheme. That's when he opens up the game with me. He told me he has been a millionaire for a while then, because his company made millions in revenue. He shares all about it with me now, but the rest of the family is probably convinced that he makes something like 100k/yr, as I imagined myself, before knowing the truth. His trick? Very simple, according to him: 1) Create a very profitable, logistically thin, value-focused company and 2) Keep on buying assets with the dividends he gets from his company. Don't be mistaken though, my brother has business written all over his head since he is very small - at 13 he was selling stuff door to door... I am not suggesting this is easy by any chance" (Source).
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