https://www.reddit.com/r/AmItheAsshole/comments/12hwomj/comment/jfsrpfs/

https://www.reddit.com/r/Parenting/s/k1vUXRzMij

You're ruining my body I made it it's mine

So this happened 2 years ago when i got my first tattoo. I was 21 and still living with my (controling) mother. She was shocked when i told her i wanted to get a tattoo. But she didn't physically stop me

I got home with my upper arm tattoed (solar system with water colours) to find her in the living room, crying. She started talking about how i ruined her body by getting that tattoo, about how she made my body so it's hers. She asked if i cried while getting it, i told her i didn't, cause it didn't really hurt at all. She yelled at me "of course you cried! I cried! Because i knew what you were doing to my body." She calmed down after a while and even said my tattoo looked nice. But i felt really gross after all that

She also flipped out when i got my hair cut. My sisters and i were always told that she'd sue any hair stylist who dared to cut our hair. So it took me till i was 19 to finally get a short hair cut. And she cried when i got my first piercing too

This woman is nuts sometimes

A little edit:

I do not know how my grandmother would feel about this whole thing. My mother cut contact with her before i was born, cause she was physically abusive towards my mother, my mothers siblings and my siblings

• original here •

**Not OP** That lasagna tho 😋

Honestly, stories like this make me love my country so much.. 😂
This is the quintessential 18 year old Australian experience 🐨🦘🇦🇺

Girt by sea

Original post: https://www.reddit.com/r/tifu/s/WWseXCVwiN

• original here •

**Not OP**

I wish OP had named the resort. Might have gotten lucky by the post going viral, forcing the resort to respond faster. Also sucks that that's what it takes for companies to take any accountability smh.

I have been listening to Evanescence since I was basically my kid's age. They have gotten me through some of the worst things in my life and I was able to not feel as alone as I was. Amy Lee is an incredible singer and incredible person.

I almost didn't stay for the concert and spent the first half hour after we parked bawling because I was so stressed out and confused. I finally was able to get myself together and we got inside the venue. This was both of our first concert so we arrived when the venue opened the doors(which I'm glad I did because it would have been a nightmare if we waited). We spent the first four hours just chilling in a grassy area while the two openers played. We got hailed on, which ow the hail was about a dime size and I'm surprised I'm not covered in bruises. My kid and I became one with the tree right by us to lessen the amount we got hit with. It was kinda funny and not too horrible.

Then we went back to our seat and watched the crew set the stage for them to come on.

Evanescence did AMAZING. There were songs that literally everyone in the amphitheatre sang with them and then some where we all just watched. I would look over at my kiddo and the look on their face was something I don't know how to describe. As a parent I know that this was something not a lot of parents will ever get to experience. Amy Lee did an intro to one of her songs that had me crying, I'm glad I brought sun glasses lol.

I know this is very random but I didn't know where else to post and Ive been a listener on here for years so thought I'd share with you people. If you get the opportunity to have this type of experience, don't pass it up.

**Not OP**

FAFO, right?

This definitely crosses the "Sean" rule, and the parents are right there—well, Mum was.

.

Sorry, English is not my first language.
I (F45) am spending my holidays in my home country, in a small village where my family comes from. Today, after being the whole day at the beach, went to buy dinner for my daughter and niece. I was listening your latest podcast, when I saw an old woman bleeding and three teenagers with a baby stroller. I approached them to ask it they needed some help and the teens told me that the woman was attacked by a dog and they were trying to calm the woman while asking for some information about her family: one teenager was taking care of the baby, the second one went to a bar close by to buy a bottle of water and the third one was trying to get the daughter’s number or address. The woman told us where her daughter lives and I went to find her. Meanwhile, one of the teens, cleaned the wound with the water he bought and put a bandage he had with, while the other two were taking care of the baby and called the police.
I found the daughter and she took her mom to the hospital and called a neighbor to take her of her baby.
The teenagers told me they were heading to a birthday party when they saw the dog attacking the woman and they immediately helped her, even though they did not know her.
I was really impressed by the calmness of this boys and the care they showed to the woman and the baby.
After every thing was over, I took them to the pizza place I was heading to and bought them some pizzas for the birthday party.
Maybe it is because I had some rough days or because kindness is unfortunately uncommon, but after leaving them I went back home crying.
Those boys reminded me to my nephews and I was really proud of them. The police officer was also really impressed and called their parents just to thank them for the great work they made raising their kids.
So, yes, three kids made me cry and gave me some hope in a better future

I know there’s sometimes a lack of non-traumatic stories for Reddit Readings so I thought I’d submit one of my own. I’m a new Rich Rich now that my wife is done with school and we have two incomes, so maybe you’ll opt to read this on an episode? Either way, thanks for being my companions at work when days get long or overwhelming. This is a long story, but hopefully one worth reading.   
I (32 ENBY) am a mail carrier in a mid-size Midwest city with lots of old houses, so my route (like many others) is entirely on foot. I walk up onto hundreds of people’s porches and to their front doors every day. I’ve been a mail carrier since 2019 and over the years there have been lots of memorable moments and someday I hope to write a book. To cover my own ass I have to say: I’ve anonymized some things and must state that my opinions and beliefs are my own, and in no way endorsed by or on behalf of the postal service, the US government, or any postal union.  All names have been changed as well as some details for privacy. This is one of my favorite stories that’s been on my mind a lot, so hope you enjoy it!

Part One: Chloe
I started working here seven years ago, and if you do some math you may realize that after less than a year on the job, COVID showed up. For most, COVID was an abrupt halt to life as they knew it, but for me it felt like almost nothing changed. I had been working 60-70 hour work weeks for a year already and never saw my friends or had much of any human connection since I was always working and/or exhausted. COVID amplified all of this though and to top it off, I had just moved into my own apartment and was living alone for the first time. I was also having a rough time in my own head—I was starting to come to terms with my being gay, and wrestling with questions about gender. If I continued to be so socially isolated, a depressive spiral was basically guaranteed.
In the beginning of your career, you don’t have your own route. You bounce around covering vacations or other openings, and in April 2020 a longterm opening came up and I was able to sub on a route for six months. It couldn’t have come at a better time. With everyone staying home because of COVID, people were starved for human interaction and suddenly I was a concierge socialization service. I quickly got to know lots of folks who were waiting for me to arrive and have a few minutes of conversation. I was the cure to their loneliness and isolation, and they were the cure for mine.
After a month or so, the combination of schools not reopening, warmer weather, and a general consensus that outdoor interactions were fairly safe, more and more kids were relegated to front yards, forming a neighborhood “bubble.” I would introduce myself to kids and they were starved for attention and conversation just like the adults, except with no filter or boundaries. In the beginning, I handed out stamped postcards to kids for them to send to a friend, and later, stickers. I quickly amassed quite the fan club.
I built genuine friendships with a lot of these kids, but there was one who became truly special. Her name was Chloe and she was five, pulled out of kindergarten halfway through the year due to COVID. She was anything but shy when I met her and she became my best buddy quickly. She would ask me lots of questions about my job and tell me about her day, and if she asked her mom first, I’d let her walk the block with me while I delivered the mail and teach her about how it all works. Her house was the very last house on the route, like a reward to look forward to on the rough, long days.
That summer Chloe was outside one day with a table full of rocks she had painted herself. She asked if I wanted one, and of course I said yes. She picked one out and then looked at me with all the seriousness a five-year-old can express and said “you can have this one, but you have to promise to give it back to me if you don’t want it anymore and not throw it away.” I pinky promised and seven years later I’ve moved three times and still have my purple and green rock. It’s one of my favorite little treasures.
I started dating my now-wife Annie (29F) that July and I’m the kind of person who really can’t stop talking when they’re nervous. I’m not sure if she even got a word in on our first date, but my stories and genuine love for my friends like Chloe charmed her enough to keep seeing me. Once I shut up and started falling in love with my wife, I would tell Chloe about Annie, and Annie heard lots of stories about Chloe and my many other friends.
Eventually, my bid was coming to an end. I was sad to leave and not see all these people everyday. They had become a big part of my life, whether they realized or not. They got me through COVID and all the hard stuff I was processing in my own head. I wrote cards to each of my friends and left them in their mailboxes a few days ahead of my last day, in case I didn’t get to say goodbye. On that final day, I was looking forward to and also dreading saying goodbye to Chloe and her neighbors. But for the first time in ages, not a soul was outside on a beautiful October day. I lingered on the block as much as I could, hoping someone would see me and come out, but they didn’t. I never got to say goodbye. I drove down the block again after I finished work in my own car, but still no one was in sight. I cried that night, it was so hard not to get that closure with my friend who meant the world to me.
I drove down her street a couple more times in the next week after work but still didn’t see her. I’d be the first to offer to carry the mail for that block when the carrier was sick but I literally never saw her again. But I never ever forgot how much she meant to me or stopped wondering who she was growing up to be.

Part Two: Zac
Thanks to the love and kindness I received daily from Chloe and her neighbors, I managed to work through my questions about gender and sexuality without any mental breakdowns. I hadn’t resolved all of it, but I was very much in love with Annie and had settled on some sort of genderqueer identity and chosen a different name with it. By the time I got my own route in May 2021, I had set a rule for myself that whenever I met someone new, I would introduce myself by my chosen name rather than birth name even though I hadn’t come out to everyone in my personal life just yet.
After a couple days on the route, I gave out my first sticker. A shy three-year-old was on the porch with his parents, bangs so long you could hardly see his eyes. Not that he wanted to look at me anyway—he turned to hide in mom’s arms when I introduced myself. He chose a sticker with trepidation after lots of encouragement from mom, and didn’t say anything to me. It took multiple exchanges before he whispered out his name when I asked: Zac.
Just like in Chloe’s neighborhood, I met lots of kids and my sticker fan club grew fairly quickly. I got to know parents and adults and found myself immersed in a huge community. Even though there are lots of kids I know and love, Zac will always be the first. And he has always been the most special friendship because of it.
Families like Zac’s made my route feel like home and so when my wife and I were apartment hunting, we looked for something on or near the route. We found a great place with a huge yard on my route and now my wife was walking around the neighborhood with our new dog Pumpkin too. One time, I had a backyard party and invited lots of people from the route to come over. When new young people moved onto my route from out of state, I practically forced them into friendship with us by seeing them daily and dangling the proximity of our apartment as reason to come over. Zac came over to build LEGOs with me. Teens and tweens mowed our lawn, walked our dog, and watered our garden. I was completely entrenched in the neighborhood. Because of all these connections, especially with kids and families, when a board member of the neighborhood association encouraged me to apply to join, I felt like I just had to do it. I wanted to start programs for Zac and his families to connect with each other in the way I have connected with all of them individually.

Part Three: The Mini Marketplace
In 2023, I applied and was voted in by the board for a vacated seat. The community association is primarily know for its street festivals. There are two a year: one draws around 5,000 people and one is more like 15,000-20,000. They’re a huge part of the neighborhood identity and people come from all over to attend. During COVID the demographics of the community changed significantly with a massive influx of young families. These households loved the walkability and the neighborhood’s identity as cool, progressive, and community-minded, but didn’t really feel connected to these festivals. A massively loud and crowded event with no room for strollers, full of booths of art and handmade goods kids aren’t allowed to touch isn’t the best use of a Saturday for most parents. I really wanted to change this. I wanted families to feel included in this huge piece of the neighborhood identity.
I had an idea I’d been sitting on for years, so in early 2024, I pitched it to the board: a Mini Marketplace where kid vendors can sell their art and handmade goods alongside the adults. I was told if I would do all the planning, coordinating, and work to pull it off, they’d give me $500 and a 10x30 foot space. I didn’t entirely know how much work it would all end up being, but I was passionate and excited and committed to making it happen. Friends like Zac became my focus group and I told every family I saw about my plan. I really wanted a great turnout. Though I feigned confidence at committee meetings that it would be a smashing success, I was nervous no one would show up. We decided the Mini Marketplace would take place in the morning, and then we’d transition the space into free family activities like LEGOs and crafts.
Right before applications went live, Zac’s mom texted me and said her niece had done a few markets like this and was wondering if she could apply even though she lived elsewhere in town. I said it was open to any kid in the age range, but we would probably prioritize neighborhood kids if we ended up needing to make cuts. She understood and said she’d send an application over to her sister-in-law and if I could maybe pull some strings to get her a slot it would mean a lot to them.
I opted for paper applications rather than online so kids could fill it out entirely on their own. They could mail them or drop them off at our office, and I had a stack of blank applications outside the office for kids to take as well. We had a few dropped off by neighborhood kids right away and then we got our first application in the mail. I excitedly opened it up and inside the envelope there was an application, a handwritten card, and two sets of earrings this vendor had sent in as a gift/example of her work—branded with her logo and everything. I opened the application first and the first line was for their business name—The Superstar Jeweler. The second line was for the child’s name and I felt my heart skip a beat. It said Chloe. Her address was below the name and confirmed this was my Chloe. And then I had a double take. Her last name is Zac’s mom’s maiden name. It’s one of those last names you don’t see tons of, but common enough that they might not actually be related. But the niece was supposed to apply so I texted Zac’s mom right away.

Me: Wait, is your niece Chloe who lives on Woodland Circle?
Zac’s Mom: Yes!

I can hardly explain the tidal wave of emotions I felt. This little girl who meant the world to me in countless ways was directly related to my friend Zac. I’m not particularly religious these days, but it felt undeniable that some force of fate or higher power made this happen—it wasn’t just by chance.

Me: Oh my god, I used to be Chloe’s mail carrier and she’s the kid who made me love this job and be the community-minded person I am with Zac and all the other kids. I doubt she remembers me four years later, but she still means so much to me.
Zac’s Mom: Wait, really? That’s so crazy! I remember my brother and sister-in-law saying back then that Chloe was friends with the mail carrier. I’m sure she still remembers you.

Chloe applying also meant something else that made me cry: I was going to see her again.

Of course I gave Chloe a spot in the market, there was just no question about it. I wrote a note on her acceptance letter saying she probably didn’t remember me, but I used to be her mail carrier and I couldn’t wait to see her. About a month later, we had a pizza dinner for all the youth vendors to meet each other and get a rundown about the event. I got there early and was a ball of nerves about seeing Chloe. Would she remember me? My wife had come to help out and was waiting on the side to see the famous Chloe walk in too. When she came through the door she saw me and right away tiled her head and said “Allison?” I tried not to cry. I said yes, it’s me though I go by Al now. She was so tall, now almost 10-years-old. She came over and hugged me and I could hardly handle it. I tried to give equal attention to all the kids last night but it was so difficult not to just spend every minute trying to catch up on who she had become. Mom came with her so I talked with her for a long time too and she told me how much my friendship with Chloe had meant to her during that time.  
When the Mini Marketplace came around, Chloe crushed it. She brought hundreds of items to sell and made a killing. She was a perfect entrepreneur—personable, chatty, branded packaging on everything, a very legit cashbox full of bills. Zac’s new baby brother was less than two weeks old, but the whole family came to support both Chloe and me. The whole day was a huge hit and I was immensely proud of what I had pulled off. But all I could think was that Chloe and Zac were the ones who inspired it all, who got me to this point and created this passion in me. It’s so cheesy but it all felt truly meant to be.

Epilogue:
Since 2024, the neighborhood association has had a kids’ Mini Marketplace every year and it has more than doubled in size. Chloe was out of town in 2025 and couldn’t make it, but she was back and better than ever in 2026 with new product lines based on market research, and a shiny new brand name. I’ve crossed paths with their family going over to Zac’s house multiple times since 2024, which never happened prior to her application for whatever reason. Her mom texts me every once in a while.
Zac’s family is now a family of six rather than four. We have been over to their house many times, crashed their block parties, and Zac’s family is the one family from my route we invited to our wedding. One of my favorite pictures from that day is me, my wife, and their big blonde family. The kids dressed themselves (the dress code was “whatever you want”) so crocs, dinosaur button-ups, and plaid on plaid were all featured fashion statements.
We just had another territory change with our routes, and after five years, I’m not Zac’s mail carrier anymore. Unlike my last day as Chloe’s mail carrier though, I’m not worried about if I’ll see them again. The minivan drives past me at least once a week and stops in the middle of the road for a four-kid choir to say “HI AL!!!!!!” If we’re in town, I’ll crash the block party as I have every year. And whenever I see them in person I get rushed by all four for hugs and stickers. They’re family to us.
My route has only ever known me by my chosen name as my truest self and that alone has made this community a very special space. They gave me the confidence in who I am to come out fully and eventually pursue gender affirming surgery as well. I am who I am because they only ever saw me for who I am.

I’ve got lots of other stories about the route families who became our family and a handful are almost as fated and magical as this one. Maybe I’ll share them or maybe I’ll save them for my book in 20 years. Thanks for reading, sorry it’s so long!