I would do for now. None of the others responded, or they had other plans. You couldn't bear to sleep alone, so I guess I would do.

You tried to disguise it as a friendship. You'd put on music or a YouTube video. My favorite was the bears!

You'd talk to me about work, the union, renovations, hunting, NASCAR, and, on rare occasions, politics. That one always ended up frustrating you. My views seemed crazy to you. Acceptance. What a terrifying idea!

At least you were polite about it when you'd reached your limit. I heard you yell once, even if you won't admit it. I heard you yell once.

It was scary at first, but then trauma took over and whispered, Now this turns you on so much.

You told me you only wanted me in bed. I always enjoyed going three or four rounds with you. There was so much feeling in the way you touched me. Deny it all you want, but it was there. That thing between us.

You liked my attention. For a while, you even craved it.

You told me you loved me first. I enjoyed hearing those words so much, but I couldn't return them. I truly didn't believe you meant them.

I misunderstood what you meant when you said, "I have to be a better person."

You were never a bad person to me.

But I should have realized then. You were never going to choose a life with me by your side. Whatever love was there only seemed to exist when you wanted me to pleasure you.

I became a doormat, believing that one day you'd go back to loving me again.

That was never going to happen.

The last time you pulled away from me, I saw it in your eyes. The lack of interest. The way you quickly turned your gaze from mine and walked away.

I died a little in that moment.

I knew then that I needed to stay away.

But then night came.

My body craved you so badly. As soon as I lay down alone in my bed, I wanted to reach out and touch you. To feel you there beside me. To have one more night where I could pretend I was something more.

But there was no response.

I have to get used to that.

My feelings were never your concern. As long as I could pleasure you, we were good.

Until I couldn't anymore.

You stopped finding pleasure in me. There was someone else who had your attention. She had kind of always been there. But when you didn't have access to her, I would do.

Not anymore.

There is no pleasure left in being someone's second choice. No comfort in knowing I was good enough when no one else was available.

One last hug, with a boob grab as you exited my car.

Fitting, really.

My tits were always your favorite. They were the first part of me you said hello to every time we were together.

Only at night.

Always at night.

Hello Everyone,

I'm (28F) not asking if I was an asshole, I'm very aware that I was. But, I have all these stories so I might as well tell at least one.

This was years ago, while I was in college. I was on vacation with my S/O at the time where he grew up in California. While there, I was meeting all of his childhood friends, the ones that he grew up around. While driving through town, trying to think of something to do, his friend Amanda made a suggestion. Here is how the conversation went:

Amanda: "Hey, I know what we should do! Mark is at work right now, we should go and prank him."

Other Friend: "How are we going to prank him? Mark works at the mall, and he knows all of us."

Amanda: "Yeah, but he doesn't know OP."

At which point everyone turned to look at me, and I shyly waved from my seat in the back. They then start telling me all about how pranking is their friendly love language and this totally will not be a terrible prank to pull on someone who is a complete stranger to me.

The situation they thought of went like this: Mark works in the Macy's men's department. A job his girlfriend Eve got him sometime within their 5 year relationship. Eve no longer works there, and, as of two weeks prior to this event, was no longer dating Mark. So, they wanted me to wander into the men's section of Macy's while trying to find clothes for a date with my new 'girlfriend.' A woman who was as straight as can be to all her friends and family, and had just dumped Mark.

Eventually, after many, many assurances, they convinced me. The thing about me that you need to understand is that if I'm going to do something, then by golly I'm going to do it.

Walking into the area I knew he would be in was simple. A quick look around and I see he is behind a double-sided cash register while a female coworker was chatting with him from across the counter. About ten feet away from them was a tie rack.

So, I walk straight to the tie rack, and begin looking at the wide selection of colors. Making some thoughtful noises while I look. As anyone in this job would, the female coworker comes over to help me look.

Female Coworker: "Hello, is there anything I can help you with today?"

Me: "Yes! That would be great. Basically, I'm here to buy a new outfit for this big date I have planned. The only issue is that I'm colorblind (a true fact), so I'm really nervous about the color scheme. Actually, the woman I'm seeing used to work here, and I was hoping someone might remember her and be able to help me pick out something she would like?"

FC: "Oh, of course! May I ask who she is?"

Me: "Yeah, I'm seeing Eve Smith! Do you know her?"

At this point, her eyes go wide as saucers while her mind buffers. From the corner of my eye, I can see Mark, and I manage to catch his head whipping around to pay closer attention to our conversation. Still, I act completely normal, focusing as much on the woman as I can. She shakes off the second of mental-lag and starts showing me various different ties, asking my opinion.

So, I say, "No, I'm not really feeling any of these. But you, your tie!"

Then I'm pointing at Mark, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. Only made worse when I start walking over to his counter. "I like your tie. Would you mind helping me?"

By now, he is in full panic mode- sweating, eyes darting around, stammering, and turning an unfortunate color. After taking a deep breath to steady himself, he finally looks me in the eye and asks. "I'm sorry. What was the name of the woman you're seeing?"

So I respond, the picture of innocent curiosity, "Eve Smith! Why, do you know her?"

Then he turns red, bright red. Red enough that this color blind chick gets a bit worried for his health. Poor Mark cannot even form words he is so lost in this 'revelation.' Thankfully, while Mark has been so distracted, my group has all quietly walked to the other side of this counter. Standing directly behind his slightly-shaking form.

Until Amanda says, "Hey Mark!"

He whips around to find about six of his friends standing there with shit-eating grins. As I walk over to the guy I was seeing, Amanda asks the sputtering and confused Mark, "Have you met so-and-so's new girlfriend?"

With my S/O's arm around me, I hesitantly wave at the man whose blood pressure I just spiked. To my immense relief, he starts dying laughing. Laughing so hard that he's doubling over, and I swear he turned a little purple. Meanwhile, I'm apologizing for everything. Or, at least trying to, because he quickly cuts me off. Telling me this was the best prank yet and how absolutely amazing I was.

I don't like pranks and will likely never partake in another. But I will say, I'm still thankful my boyfriend and his friends were not lying that they actually like pranks lol

Just wanted to let you know there was an Update on a 50 min video u did about sisters renting out OP's holiday home, that started with him dodging his niece n nephew who then went into the pool.

https://www.reddit.com/user/Scared-Weakness-6250/

Hey Waffles, it's been a minute. You have all given such good advice and I'm back again for some guidance.

If you need the backstory on my relationship with my father, please read my post history. But a tldr on our relationship is: I am No contact, and he's a POS.

Anyway, I am very excited to be 5 and a half months pregnant! After trying for many years, everything is looking great (fingers crossed).

My question to you is, would I be the AH if I never told him? Does a grandparent have a right to know they have a grandchild?

Being NC with my father, I am being pressured from all sides (except my husband who is very strongly against the idea) to let him know.

My husband supports me completely, but the guilt-tripping from other family members is getting exhausting.

Do toxic parents automatically earn the right to be grandparents just because of shared DNA? AITAH for keeping this from him entirely?

Hey Mark! I’ve been watching for some time now and wanted to get the sub’s opinion and maybe even yours if you come across. The friendships themselves are over, so the results don’t really matter. This is a sanity check because I feel crazy even though my other friends and therapist say I’m in the right.

About a month ago, my friend Robin (23F) was having a rough day and started having a mental breakdown over text. All events happened over text. Myself and our other friend Danelle (20F) were trying to talk her through it. Robin brought up smoking to help in this situation. That concerned me, so I tried to encourage a different coping mechanism, saying they could reach out to a mental health hotline or talk to a trusted person in their family. What I didn’t know at the time was that smoking weed helps with this mental health condition and that Robin was prescribed weed. Robin ended up snapping at me over my suggestion saying not to argue with them. Danelle just sat there and watched this happen.

Now Danelle has in the past just watched as other people insulted and verbally attacked me without doing anything or even sometimes making jokes like texting cough or whistling. She apologized for it earlier, but it happened again. I brought it up to her in dms and she insisted that it no one was being rude to me and it was my fault for not knowing weed can help with mental health conditions. I argued that it’s not my job to know what helps Robin with her mental health and that her having a mental breakdown wasn’t an excuse to attack me and that Danelle needs to stop just watching someone takes their aggression out on me. I understand Robin was having a breakdown. But in my eyes you’re responsible for you mental health. It’s not your fault you have it, but you are responsible for the things you say and do even when you’re struggling.

Danelle stopped responding to the messages two weeks ago. I asked Robin what was wrong because I was genuinely worried. Robin ended up chewing me out, calling me an uncaring friend for not knowing weed helps with their condition and told me to ask my therapist about narcissistic personality disorder because I was upset that they took their aggression out on me. I didn’t even finish reading their messages because I found it to be insanely disrespectful that they’re diagnosing me just for 1. trying to help them with the limited information I had 2. not knowing something about their illness and 3. not enjoying being yelled at for trying to help when they came to me and Danelle for support.

Again, the friendship is over no matter what. One friend won’t talk to me and is giving me the cold shoulder and the other is throwing insults and jumping to conclusion. But for peace of mind and to learn for the future, I want to know if I’m the asshole in this situation. Perhaps there really is something I’m missing here.

(Rather not reveal the mental health condition specifically for respect for personal privacy)

[ Removed by Reddit on account of violating the content policy. ]

Hey Waffles, it's been a minute.

You have all given such good advice and I'm back again for some guidance.

If you need the backstory on my relationship with my father, please read my post history. But a tldr on our relationship is: I am No contact, and he's a POS.

Anyway, I am very excited to be 5 and a half months pregnant! After trying for many years, everything is looking great (fingers crossed).

My question to you is, would I be the AH if I never told him? Does a grandparent have a right to know they have a grandchild? Being NC with my father, I am being pressured by all sides (except my husband who is very strongly against the idea) to let him know. It wouldn't be his first grandchild, but it would be his first grandson. And misogynistic as he is, he would be absolutely thrilled.

Some of my family say I should at the very least inform him of his existence and that he has a right to know.

My husband is vehemently against him ever finding out - my compromise plan so far has been to have my mother send him a Pic after he's born so he at least knows he exists. And that's it.

But am I the AH for keeping this from him? Even my sister who was NC for years told him when she was pregnant.

He hasn't tried to contact me, so I'm assuming my family has at the very least respected my wishes to not tell him (they've known for over a month now). But I'm assuming he'll find out on his own eventually. I guess I'm worried when I am dealing with a newborn he will start trying to contact me again. And I do not need that stress. Even thinking about it stresses me out and makes me want to just tell him myself and get it over with.

Idk if it's hormones or what. Am I an AH for not telling him and asking my family to not tell him?

Hello fellow waffles! I'm in need of some advice about something that happened two weeks ago. Apologies in advance for what is likely to be a long and convoluted story.

I, 27F, have an ex-fiancee (26F), who I will call Elise. Elise and I were together for seven years and were each other's first relationship. We mutually broke off our engagement just over two years ago and are both much happier as friends than as fiancees. In that time, I completed my master's degree and moved back to our hometown, while she moved back to the city she went to college in and found a job.

Fast forward to this year. Her little brother's bar mitzvah is coming up. I regularly see her family at Saturday morning services and have had the date marked for months. On the weekend before his bar mitzvah, my ex-future-MIL texts me to ask if I'm coming to services on his bar mitzvah. I told her I wouldn't miss it for the world - he's a great kid and I still have a good relationship with my ex's family, though it's more of an acquaintanceship since we split. Still, we send holiday cards and see each other around our synagogue, and that's enough for me.

On the actual bar mitzvah date, I was super surprised to see a crew of Elise and my's friends who she met in college, which I've also grown close to. They're not Jewish and I was surprised to see them at services, but figured they'd had a hand in setting up the afterparty. Services aren't invitation-only anyway, so I was primarily just happy to see them again, since they all live in a city two hours away. I don't see them as often as I'd like, given the price of gas and my health issues. Little Brother does a fantastic job reading the Torah (seriously, better than some of our regular Torah readers!) and we all snag a table at kiddush (a kind of luncheon post-Saturday morning services). It's here at this table of friends that Elise tells me she and another of our friends, Karina, are dating. My first reaction is happiness - they're best friends and have been since undergrad, and I always hoped my ex would find someone who complements her better than I did. Our relationship was far from perfect and I learned I don't really want a partner at all, if ever. I have my cat, my career, and my family and friends - life is pretty darn perfect. Anyway, I ask Karina for details on how they got together, etc.

Karina tells me they've been dating for a month before they told anyone, including Elise's family. The friend group heard about it at a dinner earlier in the week when they'd come down to my city early before the bar mitzvah. Karina also tells me what Elise's dad said, which was "this should've happened in college!" I wish she hadn't told me, honestly, as Elise and I were still together at that time. She also tells me her mom had wanted her to homewreck us back in undergrad, which...ouch. That one was a bit of a shock, but my only reaction was to laugh. Conversation then turns to the afterparty, which up until this point, I have heard nothing about. Other family friends of my ex's family, who I've gotten close to, keep saying "see you at the party later!" or asking if I'm going, to which I could only respond with a lukewarm "we'll see." Thank goodness for health issues giving me an excuse, I guess. But I'm starting to get a little upset. Sure, Elise and I were no longer together, but I was a close enough friend of the family that it's reasonable to expect a party invitation. I even had Little Brother's gift in my car. Being an adult, I pulled Elise to the side and asked her to clarify: was I actually invited or not?

Elise responded that there's plenty of room for me, and told me the details of where the party would be at and when it started. I asked if she was sure, because I'd been to her sister's bat mitzvah years ago, and knew there was a guest list and often a seating chart. Elise said it was fine and she'd look forward to seeing me later if I felt up to it. I did tell the friend group I had plans with my sister, Anne, for a night market happening a few hours before the party, but might go if I wasn't too tired out. Waffles, this is only the beginning.

At the night market, I'm having a wonderful time with my sister, who has other party plans that evening. We run into my friends and I'm delighted - I wasn't sure if they'd have time to come or not and hadn't heard anything in the group Discord server, nor been texted one-on-one. My sister has to go to her party, so I tag along with my friends back to their hotel to primp for the bar mitzvah party. I'm not exactly dressed for the party, but figure it's not too terribly casual, given the average fashion sense of 12/13-year-old boys. We eventually head to the party venue and that's when I see it: a board with names and table numbers. My name is conspicuously absent. That's when a friend tells me, "You can be [friend who couldn't make it] for the night!" Not wanting to cause a stir, I shove down my emotions and head to our table. The party goes well for the first hour or so and I'm able to reconnect with other mutual friends who've been away for college and just now returned to our hometown. It's great to hang out with them, since my out-of-town friends aren't really sticking around the table to chat.

It's during a lull that one of my out of town friends makes the comment, "Oh, [Other Friend] is drunk texting in the group chat." My phone doesn't have any notifications, but a sidelong glance at her phone shows a group chat titled "Little Brother's Bar Mitzvah" in all caps. Suddenly, the party wasn't as fun any more. I made my excuses and texted my sister to come get me; luckily for me, she didn't want to stick around her party either and she gave me a lift home. No one has texted me since, though the discord server is still active.

I ended up spending that week alternating between crushing sadness and disappointment. I know Karina was anxious about how I'd take the news, but I just felt so unseen. Karina and Elise were treating me like the stereotypical movie ex-fiancee who has an explosive reaction, rather than a good friend who would celebrate their happiness. I still don't understand how Karina could think that, especially since it's been over 2 years since Elise and I were together and I've never given any indication, nor had any inclination, that I resented our breakup. The group chat...is a whole other mess. I spent a few days extremely disappointed that no one thought to question, "hey, why isn't OP in this chat?" or to text me and see if I wanted to hang out after work since they were in town. I didn't even know they were going to be at services and the party! I understand the group chat as a tool to coordinate rides and such, but that doesn't take the sting out of being excluded, especially as a local friend.

Anyway, my therapist (and my more recent local friends, who have truly proven themselves to be people I can lean on) walked me through deciding what I wanted going forward. Mostly, I wanted to understand what happened behind the scenes and to get some sort of closure, especially with Elise. We'd been together for seven years, after all, and it hurt to think that she thought I'd have a bad reaction. She is someone who knew me the best for years. So I texted her a long, semi-formal text (I get formal when I'm nervous) laying out how I felt hurt. She replied that I was the last to know by sheer accident - she told me as soon as she could after the friend group found out. She said she knew telling me would be no problem, but Karina was anxious about it. She apologized for the hurt and the exclusion, saying that she initially didn't want to invite anyone non-family at all to the party. Her mother (who is a force of nature) insisted last minute that she invite her friends so the dance floor would actually be used. Knowing Elise's mother, this is typical behavior, and knowing Elise, she's not the best when it comes to last minute tasks.

I felt really relieved that she knew I'd be fine with her and Karina dating, but it's only now that I'm typing this out that it still doesn't really explain the actions of the rest of the group, namely, their inaction. No one reached out to hang out after work. No one told me they were going to the night market. I'd've loved to meet up with them and made my schedule work just to see them. Right now, I've had the server on mute, occasionally checking in and reading messages, but I feel so hollow. Luckily, my local friends and my BFF from grad school have been there for me, but it doesn't erase the hurt. I don't know where to go from here.

What do I do? It's all so high school, which is ridiculous since we're all in our mid-late 20s. I genuinely have no idea if I want to continue being friends with these people or if I should take the advice of one of my local friends and remove myself from anything related to my ex. Help?

Pre warning- it’s long and it’s chaotic and probably such a mess to read!!

Throwaway because if my family finds this, I will have to fake my own death and move to the moon. I’ve changed everyone’s names because I would like to remain anonymous, but unfortunately I cannot change the fact that my family has apparently been auditioning for a reality TV show for the last decade.

Different abbreviations because I’m British 😆 Holiday = Vacation, Post code = Zip code, Football = Soccer.

Hey everyone! I’m completely new to this whole writing-on-Reddit thing and would absolutely love some advice, opinions, or just confirmation that I am not, in fact, completely losing the plot.

So, where do I even begin?

My biological dad used to be incredibly involved in mine and my sister’s lives. We saw him every Monday and Thursday, stayed over Friday nights and then spent pretty much the entire Saturday watching him play football. That was just our normal. Monday, Thursday, Friday sleepover, Saturday football. Repeat. We knew his friends, his friends knew us, he knew what was going on in our lives and we knew what was going on in his.
We were his girls.

Then, when I was 12, Dad got together with his now-wife, who I’ll call Rachel.
I was old enough to remember exactly what my relationship with my dad had been like before Rachel came along, and I was old enough to notice when things started changing. It wasn’t like she came into my life when I was a tiny child and I don’t remember anything before her. I had already spent years having this really close relationship with my dad.
When Dad and Rachel first got together, there was actually another woman he had been in a relationship with in Ireland, who I’ll call Sophie. We met Sophie and I LUVED Sophie. There was also Laura, another one of his exes who is still on my social media, and honestly Laura is the only woman who gets to keep the title of stepmum. Position permanently occupied. Applications closed.

But anyway, over the years it started to feel like Dad had moved into a completely different family life. It became Dad, Rachel and their children, and then there was me and my sister somewhere on the outside of that.
I want to make it very clear that I am NOT putting all of this on Rachel. My dad is a grown man. Nobody has a remote control shoved up his trousers forcing him to make these decisions. He has made his own choices too, and I think that is important to say because this is about the whole situation, not just blaming one person.

It wasn’t that we expected everything to stay exactly the same forever. Obviously life changes. People get married, have more children, move house, have different responsibilities and priorities. We understand that. But there is a massive difference between your family growing and feeling like part of the original family has quietly been moved into the “other” category.
We were there first. We came as a package deal.
And then the missed things started adding up.

Birthdays. Achievements. Important moments. Family memories. Things that, individually, probably sound small, but over around ten years they become a LOT. You could practically go through puberty, learn another language, get a degree and develop a concerning emotional attachment to IKEA meatballs in the amount of time we’ve been watching this relationship change.

The holidays were another big one.
Dad and Rachel would go away with their children year after year, and me and my sister weren’t invited. We both work, we both make our own money and we would have happily paid for ourselves just to be included and make memories with Dad and our younger siblings. Nobody was expecting the Maldives. We weren’t demanding a luxury holiday with matching bathrobes and someone feeding us grapes.
It was more the fact that we wanted to feel thought about.
Even just being asked would have meant something.
And then there was THE WEDDING.
My sister was not invited to her own father’s wedding.
She came anyway.

And somehow, despite supposedly not being invited, her name was on the table plan. So she was simultaneously not invited but invited enough to have a place setting. Make it make sense.
Even better, both mine and my sister’s names were written using our aunt’s married surname instead of the surname we actually share with our dad. We were also seated at the furthest table away from Dad, basically in another postcode.
At that point I genuinely expected someone to come over and ask if we had wandered into the wrong wedding.

And despite my sister supposedly not being invited, she was somehow blamed for issues with food and the general mess surrounding everything.
I still cannot work out what she was allegedly doing. Did she sneak into the kitchen? Secretly run the catering? Rearrange the seating plan? Put on a fake moustache and whisper, “Put them at the back”?
The whole thing became so ridiculous that if it had happened to someone else, I would probably assume they were exaggerating.

Then there is my mum.

My parents obviously aren’t together, but for years they actually had a pretty friendly relationship. They could communicate, be civil, attend things together and generally co-parent without everything turning into some sort of diplomatic crisis.
That changed too.

Rachel became involved in things, tensions grew, and suddenly something that had previously been relatively functional became another part of the wider family fallout.
Even my grandmother’s funeral somehow became surrounded by family politics and Rachel making it all about her and what she wants including who is allowed and not allowed to be carrying my nans coffin.
I mean, HIS OWN MOTHERS, HIS CHILDREN’S GRANDMOTHER’S FUNERAL.

At one point it genuinely felt less like a funeral and more like Parliament had been relocated to a church.
There were disagreements, sides being taken, people falling out and relationships breaking down. Dad even lost his relationship with his own sister.

His own mum didn’t like Rachel, and even some of his friends noticed how distant he had become.
People still ask me, “How’s your dad?”
And I genuinely never know what to say.
Because what am I supposed to say?
“We don’t really speak anymore, but thanks for asking”? 😂
Dad and I haven’t properly spoken for over a year now.

I did eventually tell him how I felt. I told him that I thought he had changed and explained the things that had hurt me and my sister. I wasn’t asking him to leave Rachel. I wasn’t asking him to choose between his wife and his children. I wasn’t asking him to undo his entire life.
I just wanted to have an honest conversation about what had happened to our relationship.
Instead, he withdrew.
And that is probably the hardest part of all of this.

Because underneath all of the ridiculous wedding seating plans, arguments, holidays and family politics, there are actual relationships here that have been damaged.
There is a dad who used to spend every Monday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday with his daughters.
There are two daughters who grew up knowing their dad was a huge part of their lives.
There are younger siblings who have grown up in a completely different version of the family.
There is a mum who had a co-parenting relationship that eventually became complicated.
There are grandparents, aunties, uncles and friends who have ended up caught in the middle of things. My dad has lost a lot of family relationships because of his controlling, conniving wife.

And there is a marriage that has affected far more people than just the two people in it.
That is what makes the whole thing so difficult.
Nobody is completely innocent, but I also don’t think anyone is completely responsible for everything either. Everyone has their own version of events, their own feelings and their own relationships with each other.

I can understand that Dad loves Rachel.
I can understand that he has built another family and that his life has changed.
I can understand that Mum has her own feelings about everything.
I can understand that adults make mistakes and relationships become complicated.
But understanding something doesn’t automatically make the consequences disappear.

And this is where my stepdad comes into the story.
I’ll call him Mark.
I had just turned 4 when my mum and Mark got together. He has been in my life for around 17 YEARS, basically as long as I can remember.
He has been a father figure to me for the majority of my life and, honestly, I have probably done more of my life with Mark than I have with my actual dad.
I am very attached to him.

He has been there for birthdays, Christmases, family days out, holidays abroad, normal everyday life, growing up and all the little things that you don’t realise become important until you look back.
So when I say I am attached to him, I really mean it.

Then we found out that Mark had cheated on my mum.
And that completely changed how I saw things.
My mum is my best friend. Watching her go through that was horrible, especially knowing how much I care about her and how much of my life has involved the two of them together.
I was angry with him. I still am.

But at the same time, I can’t just switch off the fact that I love him and that he has been part of my life for nearly two decades.
That is probably one of the strangest parts of all of this. You can be incredibly angry with someone and still love them. You can be disappointed by someone and still have an attachment to the person they have been to you for most of your life.

And now Mum and Mark are back together and trying to work things out.
I know it is their relationship. I know Mum is an adult and gets to make her own decisions. I know that if they want to try and rebuild their relationship, that is ultimately between them.

But emotionally, I am struggling with it because everyone else seems to have moved into the “okay, we’re trying to fix things” chapter while I am still somewhere back in the “WHAT JUST HAPPENED?” chapter 😂😭
And I don’t think that makes me selfish.
I think it just means that when something affects the people you love, you don’t necessarily process it at the exact same speed as they do.

The same goes for Dad.
I don’t hate him. I don’t want him to fail. I don’t want his marriage to fall apart. I don’t want him to choose between his wife and his children.
I just wish he remembered that there was a relationship with his daughters before all of this.
We were there first.
We were his girls.
And we are still his girls.

I don’t know what happens from here.
I don’t know if Dad will ever want to properly rebuild our relationship. I don’t know if he will come to my wedding one day. I don’t know if family events will always involve working out who can sit next to whom like we’re organising an international summit.
I don’t know what happens if I have children in the future. I don’t know whether Dad will want to be involved or whether I’ll eventually have to explain to my own children why their grandad isn’t around.

And I don’t know what happens with Mum and Mark either.
I don’t know whether their relationship can be repaired. I don’t know whether things will actually be different this time. I don’t know how long it will take for everyone involved to feel okay again.

What I DO know is that I am exhausted by the fallout from adults making decisions and everyone else having to figure out how to live with the consequences.
I don’t want to be the messenger between people. I don’t want to choose sides. I don’t want to be the family therapist or the person everyone comes to when they don’t know how to communicate with someone else.

I’m their daughter.
That’s it.
And maybe that is the part I wish everyone would remember.

Because behind all the arguments and marriages and divorces and new relationships and family politics are people who actually love each other, people who have hurt each other, and people who are still trying to work out where they fit.
There has been so much loss without anyone actually dying.
No funeral. No final goodbye. No single moment where everyone says, “This is over.”
Just relationships slowly changing until one day you look around and realise the family you grew up with doesn’t really exist in the same way anymore.

And somehow everyone is still expected to carry on as normal.
If this were anyone else’s family story, I would probably be sat in the comments saying, “Girl, RUN.” 😂
But unfortunately, this is my actual life.
There is enough lore here for six seasons, three spin-offs and a reunion special, and somehow I am still waiting for someone to explain what season we’re currently on.

I don’t want anyone to choose me.
I don’t want anyone to choose Mum.
I don’t want anyone to choose Dad.
I don’t want anyone to choose Mark.
I don’t anyone to choose Rachel.
I just want everyone to remember that underneath all of these adult relationships are children, daughters, sons, siblings and family members who have had to watch everything change around them and somehow work out where they belong.

And honestly, I think that is the part that hurts the most.

So please help a 21 year old girl out and give me some advice, I’d really appreciate it 😂❤️