When everything finally goes quiet, she realizes that silence can be louder than fear. Trapped between a past that refuses to let go and a choice that could change everything, one ordinary night becomes a test of courage, truth, and survival. As tension builds and secrets surface, she must decide whether to keep running from the pain-- or stand still long enough to face it. This short story is gripping, emotional journey through fear, resilience, and the moment a person discovers they are stronger than the life trying to break them.

I sit in the dark while the world sleeps, tracing the cracks in myself no one will ever see. Late nights are when honesty feels dangerous, when my wounds speak, and the shadows finally know my name.

This is a letter I wrote to my younger self that has helped me on my healing journey from trauma, domestic violence, and what I have overcome since then.

My wife and I are separated and it hurts. 7+7 means the time together 7 years together and 7 years married in total 14. The devil is what I jokes about calling her This is just me sharing my pain

When I met my future ex-husband it was 2001. 911 had happened a few months ago and I was searching for friends. Friends to go out with, do things, instead of just staying home reading. I met Him. We became best friends and started dating quickly. We met each others parents. Things were going well. We became engaged a year later, and married in 2003.

This is a piece about rebuilding--quietly, imperfectly, and honestly. About motherhood, loss, growth, and learning how to stand again after everything falls apart. These are notes from the middle of becoming someone new.

This Valentine’s Day, choosing love looks like choosing yourself without guilt, celebrating connection without comparison, and letting love be expansive instead of limiting. It’s soft mornings, honest boundaries, shared laughter, quiet healing, and the courage to give and receive love in whatever form it arrives. Because love, in all its forms, is always worth choosing. 💗

My husband and I are newlyweds. We got married a year after he came home from prison. He proposed before he went to prison. After violations and him having to go back and this being the second time I decided to write about the emptiness and the brokenness that comes with the distance.

I lost myself during my marriage. That ended in 2021 and I am now married for the 2nd time. I am a writer and photographer and want to get my work out there. Join me in my journey; Writing/Photography/Life

First: if you know me well, especially if you are family, this is going to get a little more personal than you might appreciate — maybe give it a skip. Warning out of the way, on to the piece.

This short piece reflects on one's struggle to balance belief of want and need, and his inescapable lack of allowing his own capabilities. Possible TW

Love as a Form of Control: When the Bond Becomes a Shackle …REAL LOVE IS TRUST… ALLOWING THE PEOPLE WE CARE ABOUT TO BE THEIR TRUE SELVES, rather than discouraging or suppressing their authentic selves, is an act of faith and true love. It means you believe in them and their ability to navigate the world.

why I'm not dating in 2026. My first goal ever in this new year, I wanna know what others think. what are your goals?.

This year has been, maybe, the worst year of my life. Keep in mind, that’s a life that has involved bouts of homelessness, violence, extreme poverty, loss in ways I can’t really measure, but this year, fuck this year.

I have been in a number of relationships over the years, and I have fucked them up in some spectacular ways. One of the ways is fighting. There are two fights I haven’t let go of, that hit my brain at weird moments. I was wrong in both cases, but I feel guilt about one of them, and none about the other one.

This is harder to write than the bit about The Mess — for a few reasons. The first one is simply that she is still alive; she might read this (probably not, but who knows), or someone who knows her might read this, and I don’t want to cause her any problems. That means this won’t have my usual level of candour.

This starts at the beginning of my life and how quickly it went downhill, yes even at 5 years old I knew that I was doomed and how a bottle of cough syrup made my day go better without knowing exactly why.

Love and loss are a natural part of life; I've loved and watched as I lost that love. It never stops. Humans seek connection, whether that be friendship or romance. The loss of people and pets is inevitable, no matter how much we wish it weren't. No matter how they depart from your life still hurts, from no contact to death.

I am the mother to give children, had my last one in March last year. She started out sleeping through the night right out of the womb, but at 3 months old it all changed. Follow my journey from 10 months on as I try to keep my sanity after not getting more than a few hours of sleep at night for the past 7 months.

Have you had that one love of your life that you thought would change everything in all the best ways, only to have it turn into the biggest tragedy of your life? Me effing too.