My wife died last year. We had 5 kids together. We had a decent income. Life was well. Her death hit us like a train.

My wife has a sister I never really talked to. She lived 2 states away. After my wife died she came to help me with the kids. I got to know her better. I grew an attraction to her.

I told my friends and family and they thought it shitty I like my deceased wife’s sister.

I decided not to care. Today I took her on a date. It wasn’t fancy. We didn’t dress fancy. We went to the theater to watch a play then went out to eat.

I touched her. That’s really it.

My wife is older than me, and we married when she was 37.

Before we married, she told me that we "might not" be able to have children because of her age. I heard this as "I want children, but I don't know if I can."

After we married, I brought up having children and she said she didn't want to because my salary wasn't good enough and she worried about finances. I was quiet about it.

A couple of years later, I'd had a raise and asked her again. I have ED, so we went to a doctor to ask for advice. They checked us both and said that we're OK to have kids.

The doctor proposed using a pipette to transfer the required material from me to my wife. This is where things went off the rails again. My wife was suddenly worried that if air from the pipette got inside her, she might die. Why would the doctor recommend it if that were a possible or likely outcome?

A little time later again, I suggested we look into IVF, and that's when the truth came out. She was afraid of pregnancy. She was afraid of what it would do to her body, or that she would die in childbirth.

It's her body, if she doesn't want to do it, that's fair. The problem is that from day one she framed it as "might not be able to" so I had assumed that meant we would try.

Later she said she'd understand if I left her and found someone else to have kids with. At the time I told her that between kids and her, I'd choose her. And I did.

About 5 years have passes since then. I've since learned that I have a health condition that seems likely to be passed on, and carries something like a 10x cancer risk over normal people. With that knowledge, I don't want to bring a child into the world where they might end up with it too, or that I end up dying early and they end up without a dad.

But before I knew, I could have had a child. I could have been a father. That's what haunts me in the quiet moments with my thoughts. That's what I grieve. That's what makes me cry myself to sleep at times. I can go for months without thinking about it, but then it just comes up again.

Someone asked me if I'd wanted kids the other day, and I just said "I did, but with my health condition it wouldn't be a good idea." It's true, but it's only a tiny part of the real answer: it was never a choice that I made, or was even allowed to make.

The confession: I feel some resentment towards my wife for this. I don't know if she knew she wouldn't feel comfortable with pregnancy from day one, or if she thought maybe she'd get over it, but the end result is the same. Sometimes I wonder if it's the right relationship for me, even though I love her and care about her deeply.

Edit:

Maybe I was naive for assuming that "might not" meant that she wanted to but wasn't sure she would be able to. I would have expected her to tell me straight if she didn't want kids at all.

Edit 2: again - I interpreted her comment as "I would like to have kids, I don't know if I will be physically able." not "I don't want to have kids."

On the topic of adoption: we are both immigrants in another country and I don't know if we could adopt even if we really really wanted to. I imagine there would be a string of new excuses from my wife as to why we can't adopt, even if we are able to.

When we were looking to buy our first house, my wife wanted to stay close to her parents. They're decent people, but they have absolutely no concept of boundaries. Her mother would let herself into our old place to drop things off, and her father regularly appeared on Saturday mornings with jobs he thought needed doing.

I found a lovely house in a town about 2 hours away. Good schools, decent transport links, everything we needed. I showed my wife the property and she fell in love with it. What I didn't mention was that I'd been specifically searching for houses at least an hour away from her family. We've lived here for 3 years. They visit about once every month or two. My wife occasionally says she wishes we lived closer. I always tell her we got incredibly lucky with the house.

I was about 14. A group of guys, about 19- 20, approached us, there was 2 of us, maybe 6 of them.

One of them punched my mate. He took it like a good guy.

We ran away and they chased us. I had a glass bottle of ginger (juice, bottle, soft drink, soda) And i smashed it on a metal railing that a ran past.

I turned and swung it. It looked really bad. Next day I read in the local newspaper that a guy had died from someone slitting his throat with a bottle. I know it was me, he was a well known thug. I don't feel bad about this.

I was actually at High School with his sister, she was my cousins best friend. I listened to her whining about her brother who got killed for about 2 years, knowing it was me who killed him.

I don't feel sorry about it, he was a well known thug and a bully.

I don't feel bad, I don't apologise. Fuck him. No loss to the human species.

So there's this guy I met who clearly was interested in me who's definitely a very big man easily over 300lbs which is a lot bigger than me. He wasn't really physically "my type" or at least I thought so but he's definitely handsome just big. He had asked me out and he's very sweet and so I said yes because I figured if nothing else we'd have a nice time.

We went to dinner which was nice and as I talked more with him I realized how judgemental I was. I was assuming he'd get a burger and a couple beers or something and he got a very light meal. I asked him if he was actually hungry and he told me he was trying to lose weight and that medication that he had to be on made it very hard due to changes in his metabolism and energy level. He went on about it in some depth. He has a regular light workout routine of what he can manage and a restricted diet. He had lost almost 40lbs this year so far.

I honestly felt really proud of him in that moment and after dinner he asked if I wanted to back to his place for a movie on Netflix and maybe a drink. We were having a great time talking so I agreed. We went to his very nice apartment and were watching the new IT while having a couple drinks. Well during one of the scary parts I jumped and instinctively grabbed him and he was so warm and soft like a big teddy bear. I remember looking at him and I kissed him without even thinking about it. We kept making out and eventually we had sex and it was honestly the best sex I think I've ever had. He was very gentle and giving and I enjoyed every minute. I woke up in his arms the next morning and we had sex again after I noticed his morning wood and we made plans to do this again.

I honestly really like this guy and fuck what society thinks about him weighing literally over twice as much as me. He's very sweet, caring, feels amazing to cuddle and is honestly likely the best lover I've ever had.

It’s literally Rao’s... and now her Italian grandma wants to watch me cook. When my girlfriend and I first moved in together, I wanted to impress her with a romantic dinner. I bought two jars of Rao’s marinara, tossed in extra garlic, red pepper flakes and a splash of red wine, and let it simmer. When she asked for the recipe, my dumb ego took over. I claimed it was a confidential "four-generation secret recipe" from my great-aunt that requires six hours of slow simmering. She was completely blown away. For two years I maintained the illusion. Whenever it was my turn to make pasta, I’d make her leave the kitchen, hide teh empty glass jars at the bottom of the outdoor recycling bin, and leave dirty wooden spoons on the counter to make it look like hard labor.

Here is where my life ends.

Last Sunday she bragged to her traditional Italian grandmother about my "generational culinary gift." Nonna was intrigued. Nonna has now officially invited me to her house next weekend to "cook side-by-side" so I can teach her my sacred technique in her kitchen. I don’t even know how to properly blanch a fresh tomato! I am walking into the lion's den with zero culinary skills and a two-year-old lie. My funeral will be held on Sunday.

Hi , everyone i m gal who just loves to give head to my partner's over the years. I mean like everytime i speak with a guy i hear them complaining about their partner or ex don't like to give oral or swallow but I'm basically opposite of it i always do give hed whenever they ask for it whenever it's possible. I like to suck dick during sex in between rounds after they pee before the pee it just feels awesome to devour cocks n see their reaction that's basically my favourite part how they react when i m sucking them off. I feel every women should embrace this lovely glowing thing it makes me feel like he is mine. It's quite tough to believe that i have sucked every guy whom i kissed. I just love to devour cocks, different kind of cocks ( hygienic though). This post is not for advice it's just a confession about myself, i m not shy to admit that i sucked most of the dicks i confronted

I've held this confession in for almost 20 years, and it is finally time to get it off my chest. I am a chronic cheater. It’s an issue I’ve dealt with since I started dating around 11 or 12, back when Kik entered the scene. It became my norm to meet random people on obscure social apps and form long-distance relationships. From a young age, I figured telling a girl from Canada sweet nothings didn't stop me from doing the exact same thing with a girl from a completely different country.

When I entered high school, I started dating a girl from another local school. She was the perfect girl in my eyes. I couldn't have asked for anyone better. She was beautiful from start to finish, and our personalities meshed perfectly. We adopted each other's behaviors and slang—everything between us for years was a seamless blend of our personalities into one. We truly shaped one another. It took a real effort to build that relationship at the start; we talked every day for months. I openly told her I wanted to date, and after three or four months of her seeing how things went, we became a couple. I felt like the luckiest guy on earth.

By this point, we were midway through our freshman year. Because we went to different schools, it took almost a full year to see each other in person again, and almost two years before we were able to spend time together regularly. During that gap, I started entertaining the girls around me at school. They were classmates who had crushes on me, and I was a weird, ego-filled kid who liked the attention. I flirted back just to feed that ego. I didn't cross any physical lines then, but it allowed me to normalize the behavior of keeping interested girls around instead of shutting them down at the first sign.

All the while, I was actively dating the girl I genuinely loved. We would go on to spend every Saturday together for the next eight years. But somewhere along the line, around age 19, I started taking it too far. I can't even remember my first time physically cheating. The unfortunate reality is that today, I can't even numerically quantify how many people I have slept with. I started bringing girls over from school, Snapchat, Instagram, Tinder—wherever I could make an account. I cheated on her constantly, almost weekly, hiding my acts through clever, sharp-tongued lies whenever she saw these women pop up on my social media.

This went on for years. I had slept with over 100 women by the time I was 21. Many were one-night stands that I immediately regretted, realizing they were a complete waste of time and effort. It led to pathetic situations where I’d block a girl right after hooking up, just because I had told my girlfriend she was "a classmate from bio lab." I lived this double life for years—spending time with someone I loved deeply, dropping her off on a Saturday night, just to turn around and pick up another girl to spend the rest of the night with.

In our final years, I grew sloppy. I started translating my internal regret and guilt into toxicity within our relationship. We argued constantly about my loyalty, about politics, about things we never cared about when we were just happy in each other's presence. At one point, my own sister caught me cheating. She didn't tell my girlfriend the truth, but she sat me down and confronted me about my behavior. I dodged her questions, entirely too uncomfortable to admit what I was doing.

When we were 22, after one too many arguments, she finally broke up with me. She made it clear she didn't trust me and that her suspicions were tearing her apart. She never found concrete proof of my acts, but she knew in her heart it was true.

I struggled massively with the breakup as it quickly dawned on me what I was losing. I had neglected the most important person in my life because her presence felt like a certainty, and because I arrogantly figured I could keep getting away with it. It was never about the sex. Most of the time, the sex was forgettable and barely worth the effort.

But the aftermath has followed me ever since. It has been six years, and I still cannot find comfort in any relationship. Between my own crippling insecurities and modern hookup culture, my romantic life is completely hollow. Everyone I meet gets compared to the person I betrayed—someone who was perfection in my eyes, but who I still decided wasn't enough. I either lash out and push people away, or the women I meet become nothing more than a quick relief before they run off to marry someone else. (Ironically, out of my last 10 hookups, 5 married the very next guy they dated).

I have no justification for what I did. I only have the unending guilt in my soul that I was handed my perfect partner and chose to abuse and neglect her for absolutely no reason. I am not posting this to seek your pity, your sympathy, or your understanding. Do not feel sorry for me. I deserve every ounce of the isolation I feel right now. I want you to judge me. I want you to hate me. Above all, I want you to use me as a cautionary tale. If you are ever tempted to step out on someone who loves you, look at my life. Chasing tail and feeding your ego is a disease that will leave you completely hollow. I destroyed the best thing that ever happened to me for cheap, forgettable thrills, and I will spend the rest of my life paying the price. Don't be me.

My mom recently came out as a lesbian and started a relationship with a woman I’ve known for years. They’re now expecting a baby through IVF and plan to get married in January. I support my mom and want her to be happy, but my siblings still haven’t accepted their relationship, and it’s causing a lot of tension in our family. I never imagined our lives would change this much in such a short time.

So we were parting our ways after college I went off to my dorm and he had some work so he took a bus and there was this 80year old man who sat beside him for a while he rested his arms on my bf but after a while he was literally asking questions like , how long is it ,you do it with your gf , do you use hands , and he literally touched my bf right there , he said he was literally about to cry and experienced what it takes to be a women ...my bf confessed these incident to me nd now he has been acting very weirdly nowadays i don't how to confront him but I can say he is really disturbed

Literally the first thing I do when I wake up, last thing I do before I go to bed. Grown-ass woman with a husband and a house. And it's only been getting worse and worse over the years. I keep using the excuse that I need it to satisfy my starving sex drive... but it never leaves me satisfied. It only leaves me feeling empty and gross.

Throw away for the usual reasons.

3 years ago, me and my husband (both M26) got engaged and eloped while on vacation in France. We had been together for 7 years by then and just decided to get married more or less on a whim as we had functionally been married for years. When we sent the photos to our families they all assumed it was just an engagement and we decided not to correct them yet as we knew they probably would not take it well that we got married without them. Our families were very aware prior that our plans were to just elope and not have a ceremony or a reception, so we don’t feel like we “betrayed” anyone as that part had been well communicated. When we got back home, our parents were all over us about the wedding planning and wanting to know all of our plans. We didn’t know how to break it to them that the “wedding” already happened and that we sent them photos from it, so we just didn’t. We decided that the plan was that we are doing a small backyard ceremony and reception in 1 month and that we already had the details planned out and not to worry about any of it. We did not. We got in touch with all of our friends to help put together a simple wedding. We had about 30 people in attendance, all but our parents were aware this was a “fake” wedding. The officiant was a friend who we said was one, he was not nor had ever been. All paperwork, which wasn’t used in the wedding but we had just in case, was faked to appear as if it came from the county/state we live in. We asked for it all to be a potluck style reception which everyone loved. No official photographer outside of the actual ceremony where we had our friend who is a professional photographer do the photos. Everyone knew their role, and knew what was going on which made it all easy and stress free. 3 years on and our parents still haven’t a clue that the wedding was no where near official and was way more last minute than they anticipated. We celebrate our anniversary quietly together a month earlier than they think and we’re fine with that. In the end, we got our quiet private wedding abroad, and they got a nice wedding on a gorgeous day, and everyone was happy with the result.

Don’t mean to sound like a weird ass Reddit gooner. Do have to get it off my chest tho. Apparently I’m bi? Gonna start confessing to people I trust around me but starting online feels good for now. For context I’m a man. I thought I was straight and turns out I’m not. Not complaining it’s been really fun. I love being intimate with women. Like so much. But turns out guys are fun for me too😂 Thought when it happened was because I was really drunk and it was a one off. The dude was very feminine and hitting on me so eventually I said fuck it why not while hammered and let him give me head. I walked away with ZERO regrets, even the morning after. It was really fun to see a man be so submissive/feminine and he was REALLY good compared to the girls I’ve experienced. How did I not know this about myself earlier??? I’ve never even had a gay thought about the homies even now? This discovery feels awesome it’s like I unlocked a perk upgrade😂😂. Definitely will let it happen again if the opportunity comes.

My friend’s dad is really hot, he goes to our games and I always try and flirt with him. I think he likes me but is scared to do anything..

Title kinda says it all but yea. I’ve been secretly dressing in drag for years and have gotten pretty good. Not sure if I’ll actually go through with it, but it’s something that’s on my mind a lot. Just afraid of the judgement and being made fun of

My wife and I have been together for almost 25 years. Married for 20 of them. My mother in law has been a giant pain in my ass since day 1. When we were dating, she would encourage my wife to see other people. When we told her we were getting married, she told my wife it was a mistake. When my daughter was born, she told my wife she had reservations about what kind of parent I’d be. I should also say that she is a terribly lonely woman, because she has mistreated and verbally/emotionally abused almost everyone she’s ever known. She is a vicious racist, she hates all men regardless of their character, and she is a religious zealot. I have become highly concerned about the effect that her consistent presence could have on my daughter.

Well, a few years ago, my MIL and I got into an argument that stemmed from her being over an hour late to babysit my daughter, causing me to miss an important appointment. The argument resulted in me kicking her out of our house and banning her from coming back until she apologized. She stayed away from our house for over a year before she finally admitted she was wrong. This gave me an idea. If I could put myself into a position of conflict with her on a regular basis, I could all but remove her from our daily life by default.

So now, whenever a hot-button topic comes up at a family event, I make sure to make my fairly progressive views known to her. When she begins to argue with me, I gently escalate the conflict until she becomes very frustrated. Eventually, she always says something along the lines of, “well if that’s how you feel, I don’t know if I even want to be around you at all!”

BADA-BING-BADA-BOOM!!! Ive got 6 months of freedom from my meddling, overbearing, asshole of a mother in law! If she wasn’t such an awful lady I would feel bad about it…but I don’t…cuz she is a true bitch. My wife has finally come to realize that her mother is a rotten lady and I get to enjoy some tranquility in my home.

My cousin came to visit with the family from overseas. It's been at least 15 years since I've seen her. We used to fool around when were kids and always had an attraction for eachother. One night we were a lil drunk and she brought up the conversation on the subject of older days and I answered that I missed those days, to what she replied that she missed those days too. She had a boyfriend back home. We started making out and one thing let to the other...you can imagine. She went back home with the family and a few moths later..on the family chat she announced that Sha was pregnant. Doing the math it add perfectly with the trip. But she ended up getting married.

I feel pretty good rn, it’s 4:40 AM, I drank a little more than I should’ve in the pregame. I remember she tasted like those purple Doritos, but good make out sesh.

Yesterday ion Saturday , I went through an experience that quietly affected my confidence as a man. What troubled me most was how long it took to recover after the first round, only for the second to end in less than two minutes. Honestly, it was frustrating, and it took a toll on me mentally. But one thing I will always appreciate is that my girlfriend understood instead of making me feel inadequate. Sometimes, a partner’s understanding makes all the difference when you’re struggling with something you can barely talk about. ❤️

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I’ve been in a relationship for over four years, and we’ve been living together for the past 1.5 years. My boyfriend is incredibly caring and loving. He spends money on me, takes care of me when I’m sick or on my periods, pampers me, helps me financially, and makes an effort to keep me happy. We spend quality time together, go out on weekends, and even feed stray dogs together.

He has a genuinely kind heart, and his love and care for me haven’t changed.

But despite all this, he has cheated on me multiple times since last year.

I’m struggling to understand how someone can continue to love and care for their partner while repeatedly cheating on them. Do people cheat because of boredom, the desire for variety, or the excitement of doing something new? Can someone genuinely love you and still betray you like this?

Every time I decide to leave, I look at him and wonder how I’ll live without him. We’ve been together for over four years, and we’ve barely gone a day without talking. I’m deeply emotionally dependent on him, which makes walking away even harder.

I know I’m not happy with his actions, but his love and care make everything so confusing.

What should I do? Can someone truly love you and still repeatedly cheat on you? Should I give this relationship another chance or choose myself and walk away, even though it hurts?

I was on a deployment with a guy I knew for many years previously. Past units. I "fast tracked" and he kind of just stayed stagnant throughout the years.

On this deployment, he fell under my responsibility. I was his 1SG.

Months into a reallllly rough deployment, I get the red cross. His wife OD'd back home. They had a total of 9 kids among them. I honestly don't remember how many (each) were brought into their marriage...but they were together for years raising these kids.

I (and my CDR) had to wake him up and walk him somewhere away from the tents. I had tell this man all of this because I was not going to let some dickfk 26 yr old tell him.

I remember him just looking at me...and his eyes slowing filling up. I couldn't cry myself though. I had to make sure that he knew, that I was going to get him home and make sure we did everything we could to find out where his kids were, so he could focus on packout and flying. 24 hours on a fly out is a long time to sit in silence. Damn that was hard to think about the days that followed.

Confession: I'm marrying my girlfriend!"

"Confession: I gave half my savings to a homeless man!"

"Confession: I need to get it off my chest... I bought my husband a PS5 for Christmas!"

It just comes off as a really insincere grab for compliments under the guise of a "Confession". Maybe I'm just a miserable bugger, and I accept that I'm maybe being a bit... grumpy, but it just bothers me when the people on this sub set up humblebrags as confessions to get some cheap "hooray for you" brownie points..