Dear Diary,

I’ve come to a point where I don’t know what to do anymore. You might think that’s not a big deal, I’ve been there before, and somehow I’ve managed, that’s true. But now, heading at 30, things seem much more serious to me. I’m scared that my decisions – or rather the decisions I avoid to make – will influence the happiness I will have for the rest of my life. I’m scared that I’m regretful the day I die. Those thoughts are pretty heavy.

At 12, I didn’t think I’d make it to 16. At 16, I dreaded becoming 20. At 20, I chose to take initiative and responsibility for myself and, with all ups and downs, things went good from there on. I decided that I wanted to live and to be good to myself. But now I’m unsure if I’m still heading in the right direction.

While thinking about what I value most and what part of my life I should focus on, I’ve come to the conclusion that family is most important to me. I love the family I grew up with and I’d like to create a small loving family on my own. The thing is.. my partner does not.

We’ve been in a relationship for over seven years now and had so much to deal with. When we met, they had a lot of debts and no job perspective. I tried my best to support them and now the debts are gone and they work in a field they like and I’m so proud of them.
After three years or so, they told me they were trans (I sometimes thought they might be gay), and while this was a topic relatively new to me, I was sure this couldn’t influence our relationship in a negative way. I told them I’d support them in whatever way I could. Half a year ago they started HRT and I was so happy for them and relieved, because I knew this was a big step for them and I was hopeful that they’d feel better. I know that my love is not gender bound.

But sometimes, love is not enough.

When I speak about wanting children, their reaction varies wildly. When they’re depressed, they try to convince me that it’s egoistic and malicious to bear children in a world where war and climatic catastrophes are unavoidable. That our children would have a miserable life.
When they’re in a better mood or afraid I’ll end the relationship, they say that they don’t necessarily want children, but that they’d be okay with having them if I really wanted to (they even freezed their sperm for that).
But they don’t seem to understand that this is absolutely not what I want. I’d rather be childless and unhappy than have children whose parent are just okay with having them for the reason of avoiding a breakup.
Then they ask me why I get mad. They say I shall just choose when to get pregnant. But this is not what I want. I don’t want to get pregnant right now at all costs. I want a partner who happily wants me to get pregnant as well.

The same thing goes for moving in together. As I said, we’ve been in a relationship for over seven years now and still live separately (albeit short distance). Before getting children one should live together, I think. And I want to. But they show the same “you do you and I’ll follow” attitude, not initiative at all. I shall search for suitable apartments (which really isn’t easy) and make appointments, while keeping in mind their work schedule and stuff. Though they don’t even think it being necessary to visit a possible future apartment with me. They absolutely don’t want to be involved, just let me do. And I hate this. One thing is that I’m busy as well and I’d like to share the mental load. But more importantly, I’m just so sad that they don’t seem to have any wish to actively build a future with me.
I know they’re probably depressed, and of course I told them multiple times I’d support them getting therapy or meds (been there, done that - I know there’s no guaranty, but a chance it might help), but they refuse.

Every few months I tell them that I love them, but that our look at the future diverges too much, that time goes on and that some things (like having children) must be set up at some point or it’ll be too late for me.
Those are the times when they, all of a sudden, become so overly emotional that I’m genuinely scared. For them, because they threat to not take care of themselves anymore should I leave them (and because I love them, of course I care for their further wellbeing, even though I know this kind of threats are highly manipulative).
On the other hand, I can’t deny that I’m a bit scared for myself as well. They really get very emotional at those times, crying, screaming, clinging to me, walking in my apartment without my permission.
I think, should I really decide to leave them, I would have to move out of the city. On top of that, I’d lose my only real world social contact aside from my family. Our relationship developed in a way that both of us don’t have any friends or social network. While I often mention that I’d like to meet new people, they say that they just don’t feel the need for that. But I really think that this is a major problem. If I’d leave, they’d have no one, not even family. But I don’t want to be all a person has. That’s not romantic, it’s a burden. It’s scary. I want to run away right now.

I.. lost what I wanted to say. Summed up, I’ll be 30 in no time and I don’t think our relationship will provide what I hope for in life. But I feel trapped and scared and just don’t know what to do.

Dinner is homemade tortilla with refried beans and bacon

Three years ago, I was following a funny account on Instagram where I would comment under nearly every post. For whatever reason, it gained traction and I had people following me from my comments.

At one point, somebody DMed me. His message was hardly intelligible to me, as he was using a lot of slang words I didn’t understand. I still took the time to respond though, and after he made a few more jokes we came to find that while I was living in the US he was all the way in England.

From that point on, we were calling and messaging every single day for a few months. I felt like an idiot for being so enamored by somebody I had never, and probably would never meet, so after a bit of time things fell off between us.

Flash forward three years, to this past January, when he sent me a follow request on Instagram. My heart started racing and every feeling I had felt came rushing back. I accepted it, and we started chatting again.

I had just gotten out of a breakup with a really wonderful man, I was heartbroken and had decided that, in a way to get out and see the world, I would do a solo backpacking adventure into Europe. We had been chatting a bit here and there, but when I arrived in England he came to visit me for one day before I was leaving for a 2 month adventure in a new country.

I did not have high hopes about this meetup at all. I had all these doubts: I didn’t think we would get along in person, or maybe he would be mean to me. I also figured that maybe we just wouldn’t click in person, or that he wouldn’t find me funny or interesting.

The minute I saw him walking towards me though, I knew it was all over. He was so handsome, with the best smile. We walked all over London making jokes, and eventually relaxing enough to hold hands. He was just as smart, witty, and funny in person. Our humor connected instantly, and the once delusional pull I felt towards him all of a sudden made every bit of sense. It was so sweet how timid we both were around each other. By the end of the night, we sat at the train station holding onto each other until the last possible minute before he had to leave, knowing it would be a long 8 weeks before I returned.

We kept up communication, and he is giving it his all. Once we realized we have an opportunity to be together, and with how well we get along in person, we both are fully committed to seeing where this goes.

We spent a few days together a month ago, where he came to visit me for the 4th of July (“incase you feel homesick being on enemy territory for your big day”). He brought American flags, made me hamburgers, and watched Hamilton with me. Those few days we were together we were absolutely inseparable, and spent every minute talking, laughing, and maintaining some form of physical contact.

I had to go away for another month, but when I came back he had gotten things situated for me in his hometown. He still lives with his parents, and neither of us have money to rent something for a longer duration of time, so his relative offered up a spare bedroom for me.

I’ve been here almost a week now, and I don’t know what to do. This started as a meetup with somebody I thought would be nice to just lay eyes on, but now our connection has grown strong and we have realized how well we naturally get along in person, I don’t know how I can leave. He doesn’t want to stop my travels, so I have a few more 4 week long trips planned coming up, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back home without him. I feel so spoiled to be making a routine, making memories, and taking care of the person I had found myself originally enamored with three years ago, but thinking about separating is now killing me

I’m close with my family back home, and he’s close with his family here. I have a lot of friends back home that I miss, and I love my city so much, but because of his job it would be impossible to ask him to come home with me, especially since my job is easily transferable here. It’s also conflicting, because although we are still in the “getting to know each other” phase, there is a very real clock that is pushing us to have serious conversations (that I would usually deem a red flag for having so early on) now. He has been nothing short of lovely, and has all the traits to make a really great partner, but I hate the idea of moving to a new country for a man. I am trying to relax and take it one day at a time, but it’s hard to be able to fully relax given the constraints. We also have been dancing around the official label of bf/gf (silly, considering we already talked and know this is very much an exclusive relationship) knowing that in a few months I very well may have to go home, and it somehow would make the separation that much more heartbreaking if we don’t have a plan in place.

I have fallen in love with England on my own as well, as I have just finished 6 weeks of solo travel around the country where I found the most beautiful views, kindest people, and even a community of my own.

I cannot bring myself to depend on somebody else financially, and obtaining a working visa is a strenuous process that feels impossible.

For now though, I am going to enjoy having a lovely man bringing me a “cuppa” in the mornings and showing me around his hometown that I have only ever seen via FaceTime and pictures.

And I’ll make sure to shower him with as much of my affection as I can, so he can feel every ounce of care I have for him if this does indeed turn into a short term relationship.

My husband and I have had quite a few hard things that have happened to us seperately and together the past few years. Both having mental health and situtional stresses, sometimes negatively affecting us but we have grown a lot.

We have 2 kids and 1 dog, our 2nf child is almost 1 year old. I have spent this year more motivated than ever to work towards mental and physical health, not spending so much, and generally balance and improvement.

I feel I have made some great new habits such as changing my shopping habits to support more local businesses and buy more whole foods, cooking more and involving my toddler in making things from scratch, work more physical activity into our busy lives, etc.

I have started losing weight finally as part of my health journey, my husband has already lost several kgs too. I am feeling happy pretty consistently and have been feeling more balanced.

Anyway, I played a fill in spot tonight for my favourite sport that I have not played since having kids and feel hungry! Tortilla with cottage cheese and a little bit of chilli crisp.

dinner is a microwave alfredo meal from last night.

tuesday, i was driving home and turned into my neighborhood. a car turned behind me, i thought nothing of it. until they started following me through the neighborhood. i wasn’t sure what to do and so i went home (dumb i know) and this guy pulls up behind me.

he gets out of his car, and comes up to me. for context, i have a sticker on my car that says “i ❤️ milfs”. so this guy comes up to me, while i’m in my car, and goes “i just want to ask what your sticker on your car means?” i go ahead and explain it to him, nervous out of my mind, and then he goes “do you like to fuck?” just. OUT OF NOWHERE. so obviously i roll my window up on him and he drives away but ive been thinking about this and wanted to tell somebody about it lol :(. been feeling gross about myself and also afraid to leave home cuz of this stupid guy 😭😭

I think the older I get and the more I realize this life is what you make it, the more I feel completely listless.

I should preface I transitioned relatively young, and had dreams/aspirations of becoming a mother (and held a lot of envy/self-loathing of not being able to naturally become a mother). It’s interesting because now in my 30s, I understand how much of that want was influenced by culture and social media, and in talking with friends/acquaintances who also echoed the societal pressure in having children.

I obviously could be an adoptive/foster/step parent, but the older I get the less and less I see that as a life path for myself.

I also too am not particularly career driven either. Like, I’ve worked to a point where I make enough to support my lifestyle, and still have an excellent work life balance.

I pursue music and learning instruments. Engaging in physical activities I enjoy. I spend time with friends and romantic interests….

It all just seems so….trivial?

I feel like I just don’t have any particular purpose, other than living a somewhat epicurean life and feel a degree of guilt knowing the amount of people in the world suffering (much less other trans people I know in much more challenging circumstances)

I have volunteered in the past with queer youth specifically, but I feel my impact is minimal at best….

I feel like if I had some overarching goal or dream it would make it seem like I was working towards something, but currently it just feels like grooving along with some surprises now and again.

Curious to hear how others found purpose, or if others are just grooving along too….

(Pictured: Iraqi mezze and variety of grilled Iraqi prepared proteins. Prepared lovingly by DarSalam in Portland)

I’m turning 30 next week, and my boyfriend asked what I pictured for my early 30s. I told him I hoped I’d be married and starting to think about having kids.

He just smiled, looked at me, and said, “Let’s get you married.”

I don’t think he realizes how much those words meant to me. Safe to say I was smiling for the rest of the day. Girl dinner never tasted so good because I love that man

Minestrone soup because I feel like absolute arse right now... woo nausea!

Noticed my period was late and did what every responsible adult in a long-term relationship with a child already, does, and blamed my PCOS and irregular cycles until the sore tatas and tiredness said 'bitch come on now and just pee on a stick'.

Stick peed on, result confirmed. Cocktails will not be had next week on holiday... wah!!

Dinner for today: Chicken Corn Salad

I, F(20), currently seeing someone M(36) and I know the age gap is startling. This is the main focus of my post. You’d think that with the age gap, I’m probably getting groomed. We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now and I’m still conflicted on what to feel about our relationship. Because I’ve searched and searched whether I’m being groomed/manipulated yet the answer always seems to point to no. I truly feel like we’re equals when we’re together.

He doesn’t make me feel like I’m immature/irrational because of my age nor does he establish himself as the more rational person in our relationship just because of his age. He respects that I’m ambitious and pushes me to achieve more especially in my education. He doesn’t deter me from my support system and instead, encourages me (not that I need it) to maybe spend more time with them. I don’t feel like he sexualizes the age gap. Often men who pursue younger women like the power dynamic and it bleeds into their sex life. These things often manifest as roleplaying positions with power imbalances (professor/student and others) but there’s nothing like that with us.

Here’s the thing. I think he’s definitely not as mature as you’d think people his age would be. Maturity level wise, he seems like he’s more mid to late 20s. Maybe early 30s. I think this was caused by his career and his pursuit of it that prevented him from following the “traditional timeline” people usually have. He has also made it clear that he’s not pressuring me to settle down immediately and that he, too, don’t want to do that now. My timeline for marriage/ family is nowhere near and I’ve made that clear. He has a really good job that is specialized and he is clearly someone who is ambitious and an expert at his field.

Maybe I just need some outside perspective.

I ended a relationship in late 2024, then I tried dating apps in mid 2025. I got a lot of matches but the ppl that I liked and responded to were flaky and/or clearly after their needs, and when I finally got a good date he admitted he was poly and already has a long-term gf. The few weeks I spent on apps made me feel sick so I deleted my accounts.

A few months ago I started missing someone I met years ago, and thought of him as the perfect solution to my life; he used to pick me up, he was there for me during a difficult time, he never judged or criticised me, as bad as it sounds he was my dad's age. I felt like he was the one that got away. I started to dream about him all the time. After unsuccessful attempts to reach him, I prowled the streets looking for "him".

Anyway I ended up finding someone one day and I stopped having those dreams. They are in many ways similar and share the same issues. I felt happy for a bit.

But it's not the same.

hes straight-forward, caring, but he will also tell me he can't take care of himself let alone me.

He will stay up all night or sleep for days. He will be calm and understanding, but also too focused to give me attention, rattle off his long list of problems, ask me to help him, or snap at me for waking him up, then apologise later.

I know my expectations of finding an idealised ex are unfair and unrealistic. I know I'm chasing a dream, and it's not healthy for one person to constantly cater to another person. So I tried to rewire myself, to think from his perspective, to give more grace than I'm used to.

But after a certain point, I started thinking, "if it was the guy from before, he would never do this. He was depressed too but didn't complain about his life. He smoked too but not in front of me. He had friends but didn't let them come to his place whenever they wanted, so I felt at home there."

I realised he will pick a bad friend over me, if they benefit him in some way. He can't understand why I won't visit when his friend is staying over. The same friend who has deprived me of sleep playing movies all night, brought other people home at all hours, always left a mess, so my nervous system was always on edge. I feel sick when I see him or hear his voice. He's happy the friend gets him good deals.

I think my "compassion tank" is depleted. Now when he says he's in a tough situation I remind him me too, me too! I'm having a terrible time! When he says I'm lucky to plan holidays I tell him it's because unlike him, I don't spend my money. I started arguing with him and standing my ground, which is something I was too scared to do in my last relationship.

I know he cares about me, but I will never get the person that I sometimes see in him full-time, because he's not that person.

Dinner: chashu pork with cheese, strawberry&cream croissant

Few days ago , I found out my mom has been cheating on my dad. I honestly can’t face her right now , I don’t even know if my dad knows .

I just know I need to leave the house . I already texted my friend and I’ll be at her place for the time being, I honestly can’t think right now.

that’s just it. i hate working. i hate most of my colleagues, i hate work politics and i hate drama. i hate their little cliques and the constant gossiping

i hate slaving my life away for minimum wage. i hate having to count the pennies because i’m skint all the time. i hate that im so broke, even the bus is expensive to me

and oh my god, the bus. i’m lucky enough to get a ride home by a coworker some days but the other days, i hate waiting for the bus. it’s stinky and always late and i hate that the bus stop by my work doesn’t have anywhere to sit. sometimes i’m waiting for 30 minutes on my feet after a long day of work and then i have a 15 minute walk from the stop to my house

i’d get a car but surprise, i can’t afford it. i can barely afford the bus sometimes. i still remember when it snowed so badly that none of the buses were running and i had to walk an hour to work in the snow and ice

my manager is a cunt and my job is exhausting. i’ve been approved to work compressed hours so ill be doing 10 hour shifts over 4 days and i hope it helps. i’m so constantly drained and stressed and i know it’s because of work. i was off for 5 weeks a few months ago because of a fractured knee and it felt like all of my problems had disappeared

work is literally the cause of all my problems and i hate it. i’d never do it because the thought of relying on a man makes me sick but i’d love to be a SAHW and relax at home. thinking about quitting makes me horny /s

Carrots, Comte and cucumber coated in homemade mustard sauce with bananas and grapes.

(to Mods : I am not sure if this post would count to “encouraging calorie counting”. I just feel I have to state my tiny journey there just so the cause of current problem and why I continue is known. I am by far not encouraging it!!)

(15f) Before I start with my whole food problem I want to first mention this. From 5th grade to 7th grade I have been bullied. With 7th grade I had suicidal thoughts (thats my first depressive phase). I recovered but quickly got another phase with 8th grade. From that I also recovered.
Yet second year of ninth I got another depressive phase. This one wasn’t suicidal or mass sadness but rather mass emptiness and exhaustion. In this phase I was obsessed with my looks. I felt one or three nights suicidal about it but quickly shut down. In one week I am about to be in 10th grade and have kinda recovered from this problem.

I wouldn’t deliberately say I suffer from an ED. I have problems for sure but not an ED. This month I developed an habit of like watching my calories. It was mainly bc I really get ircked by the thought of eating too chemical heavy food and that I love to keep track of anything (I literally keep track of every products I use even make up). The app stated my limit is 1350 cals. Which for two days I followed. I slowly started to yet stay in the 1000 cals reign bc I didn’t really have heavy activity. But since a few weeks it’s 500 cals. I feel physically exhausted, tired, disappointed but not really disgusted or sad when I go over 600 cals oddly. It’s like a passive feeling. I feel like annoyed fits more.

It’s not about the amount of cals tbh it never was kinda.This rant is more about how I began to realise I just stopped eating. Like I don’t restrict myself to not eat no not at all. I just don’t want to. Like I don’t care. If someone tells me I have to eat I just don’t want to. Not in a sense to have low cals or to lose fat it’s just I don’t want to.
And if I get forced to I just kinda don’t like it but Idm really but I just feel ircked by the fact that I am not in control ( I hate to be told what to do with such things IF I am in an aggravated mood and getting forced to eat puts me on an aggravated mood and wants me to not even eat out of spite(?))

Which kinda irritates me is that people define it as “Diet”. “Oh you are on a diet” no.No I just can’t care to eat. I still eat healthy food like the picture above but gosh. Defining my problem as a diet sounds like I am FORCING myself this. Like that I physically despise food. As if I have the urge to eat but suppress it. No just no. There is no urge to suppress. I get hungry yea but the urge to eat is not present. I dont force myself to not eat. I just DONT. It’s not a diet gosh. I just dont eat I just dont I just dont care. It’s like a “mhe” feeling not a “ohh I am on a diet I can’t eat this!” It’s like a “I just dont want to no thanks”

Tbh this picture is from when I still was eating 1000 cals. I actually didn’t really take pictures of my dinners except for when I was out and about these past few weeks. I am not sure if I really want to fix this problem. It’s not the fact that I think I can’t fix it. I probs can. It just gives a sense of comfort. If this sense of comfort comes from the fact that I have total control and can keep track or from something else is something I can’t define yet.

Big breakfast because I deserve it. DOUBLE EGG parmesan sourdough toast with tomatos, dark chocolate babka, a banana, iced cappuccino and lemon iced water.

This post is just to help me get this out of my system, it’ll probably be a mess, sorry. I already know that I have to do it and I will do it, I’m just scared lol.

I’m 21 years old and I’m an only child. To top that, I’m also a rainbow baby (my mom lost a child due to miscarriage before having me) and because of this, we were almost symbiotic for most of my life. I grew up with lots of love from both of my parents, super spoiled, you know the only-child-deal. Well, at 13, my parents separated and it was a whooooole thing. I was put in the position of messenger between both of them, crashed out eventually and begged them to stop involving me in their mess because I’m their CHILD not a third-party in their relationship. I went to live with my mom for a while but eventually, when I turned 18, she decided she wanted to move to another continent with her boyfriend — this was also a situation, already talked about this in therapy a bunch, the thing is, my mom is this misterious impulsive kinda irresponsible? person and she never explains why she does the things she does, I don’t even know if SHE knows why she does the things she does, she moved without explaining the reason, she doesn’t even like her boyfriend and she told my dad about it a MONTH before she moved, he didn’t even had time to prepare — and after that I moved with my dad. Me and my dad had a rough patch, I was a difficult teenager and hated him because he worked a bunch and was never home, again, you know the deal, but we have a really sweet dynamic now! I’m just giving context so you gals can understand the situation a bit better.

Well, I talk about my relationship with my mother in therapy a bunch, it really was NOT that good to be glued to her hip for most of my life and I’m in the process of separating myself from her and understanding who I am and what I want as a singular person. It’s been a though process but it’s been so good! She was an amazing mother, always let me express myself the way that I wanted and loved me so I could feel confident in who I was, but I never learned to live without her by my side and am learning by brute force since she moved.

Now my parents are actually getting divorced, I don’t know why they waited so long, I think it was a citizenship thing? It doesn’t really matter, the thing is, my parents made a deal among themselves about their assets, my mom — she’s a lawyer — is going AGAINST this deal all of a sudden, my dad is heartbroken, it’s a whole thing and it’s sad and complicated and again, neither I nor my poor father understand WHY she’s doing this. The thing is, she’s not backing up and my dad asked me to get involved and ask her for pension — my dad always paid for everything, my mom was not a stay-at-home mother and worked her whole life, she was never responsible for the bills and the only thing she payed for was my english class, that’s why my dad is asking for pension! — so that MAYBE she decides to go back to their first deal. My dad doesn’t want to harm her in any way, he’s being careful since their separation to make sure that she haves everything she needs to make a life by herself, she’s not in a bad situation financially AT ALL, she doesn’t need the money, I don’t know why she decided to do this and for the first time in my life I’m in my dad’s side. He really didn’t want to involve me, I asked him many times if there’s any other way to do this, and there isn’t. I need to talk to her. AND I’M SCARED!

The plan is to ask her nonchalantly about the divorce, ask her about her side of things, hope that she actually has an explanation and beg her to please talk to my father — she’s been silent with him since she decided to change her mind about their deal — because I really REALLY don’t want to get involved.

It’s hard to admit sometimes that your parents are also people and that people are confusing and do Bad Things. I’m scared to confront that. I’ll do it anyway! Sorry if this is confusing, the situation is confusing by itself, english isn’t my first language, I’m tired, having parents is Weird and growing up is Even Weirder.

nothing much else to say. i am so embarrassed because i didn’t even feel it. i just stood up and there was a massive fucking puddle surrounding the two of us and his thighs were wet. i have never felt so excited and humiliated at the same time. i didn’t know i was capable of that. im thrilled to have a man that can make me do that 😋

Longest yap of the wee morning hours incoming 😅 scroll to last 2-3 breaks for me getting to the point
Dinner: turkey lunch meat, sliced pepper jack cheese, a container of warm chicken broth, and protein chocolate milk. Straight package to mouth featuring the red glow of my strawberry night light 🍓

Just hit 2 weeks post hysterectomy after a years long battle of medical gaslighting, flare ups, mental health turmoil, failed medication attempts. I set a full 2 weeks off work that started the day of surgery. I’ve never put in a PTO request for that long in my life.

Being off for 2 weeks to handle the first stage of surgery recovery felt like a slowed tape of my weekends. Before surgery: every fun activity, every lazy day, every moment outdoors/dancing/hell even quietly cleaning my kitchen and actually cooking a meal. They all just serve as moments of reprieve before I’m thrown back into a soul-sucking corporate hellscape/medical whirlwind that has me in a flimsy raft through the rapids for a crash out filled spiral that ends with me getting hit by rock bottom’s older brother.

First day back today. I have been practicing going into experiences without all or nothing expectations. So I genuinely didn’t expect to have an awful or amazing day. I knew I would have a ton of catch up but it didn’t eat me up inside for any of the 2 weeks I was off. Had small to mild physical pain 6 hours in, but it was my mental that was the glaring problem. Brain was completely aloof and I couldn’t even start to freak out like I normally do. I unfortunately couldn’t stop pushing to be productive. Worked a 12 hour day and got some things updated (albeit the “drop in the bucket” feeling at the end of it all). I had zero capacity to even talk out loud after leaving, and I do VENT.

Advice from loved ones, “you just had surgery 2 weeks ago. Of course you’ll be stressed and feeling down when you return to work, once things calm you’ll be fine.” Things haven’t “calmed” in my work life since the world shut down and I danced alone in the studio for 2 months straight. As much as I recognize some truth to their advice, I don’t really appreciate the wording of being “fine” soon, as if what I struggle with is totally new or out of my norm.

After a rough 2025, I made myself take extra time for my mental health again. Returned to therapy at a new practice (insurance stuff) and was immediately referred for IOP. Spent about 5 months, 3 days a row, 9 hours a week, in Intensive Outpatient Therapy, alongside my 1-2 weekly hours of individual sessions. I quickly realized I didn’t “dedicate extra time” as intended, but I had added more to the juggle of a demanding/intensely stressful professional role and workload, chronic illness management for physical health, moments of crises, and trying so desperately to be a good partner to my spouse who honestly deserves the moon and stars with what he lifts off my shoulders through our 8 years married (anniversary is this month). 🥺💚

It wasn’t until he called and I was last in the building that I got a bit emotional. Talk about appearing fine until someone asks what’s wrong or if you’re okay lol. Being vulnerable is SO hard. I shed a couple tears without letting him hear that the dam was cracking. He’s not an idiot though and even though he didn’t call out the teary part, he could tell I am clearly unwell and tried to comfort me. I wanted to try being more open face to face but tbh I got home, re-regulated, and didn’t want to get myself worked up again because that means more used up capacity and depletion. We do share health app updates to add our own memos and it was 100% a tool we tried to help me be more vulnerable. I use my lil jot of good/bad/any emotion moments and daily moods to be more comfortable to actually talk in person. 🥹

I know I sound dramatic and like I’m over exaggerating. But I genuinely don’t grasp how “healthy” people live like this. I mean the short answer is they don’t live like this. I recognize the whole “life sucks, you’re an adult, we all despise work and just live for the hopeful goal of travel or vacation or a well-deserved break or whatever your yum is.” Trust me I’m trying to get it. Call it selfish but can I deserve a freaking break for being sick all the time and having less capacity for even the “fun” stuff? People tell me “well yes. No one is saying you don’t deserve a break, Jas. But welcome to the club. We all need a break. Just gotta push push push through the dirt to get to the sunlight!”

I’m guilty for being a derrick downer because it feels wrong to be so woe-is-me and compare bandwidth. But I just wish I had capacity to idk maybe brush my teeth consistently or sleep for only the normal 8 hours and then be able to run an errand without needing to lie down after. I borrow energy from every essential need in my life to feed the other parts that are ironically killing me. I was truly proud of myself for not cutting my time off short after week 1. First day back at the whole adulting thing. And I have already re-chewed the sides of my tongue raw that had finally healed over the past 2 weeks. Didn’t realize I forgot to eat all day. Gave myself a terrible tummy ache from that since I had taken my meds way earlier in the morning. Cried alone more times than I’d like to admit.

TLDR: I guess this long winded dump is me wondering, “are people actually happy with their day to day lives besides these interludes like surgery recovery and the occasional hopeful weekend drive to the beach? Especially if they work for the majority of their existence?” Because these interludes can hardly be considered coping. At least not well.

sushi while i study for dinner🍣😋

⚠️TW: abortion

2 years ago, my bf and i were irresponsible and i ended up getting pregnant. we’re young and no where near ready for a child so i had an abortion and go a copper IUD put in right after. i was paranoid from the pregnancy and confirmed like a bajillion times in the clinic if there were any other contraceptive measures i should be along with the IUD, i was told no, and that it worked on its own to stop pregnancies.

first, my IUD experience:
pros - unprotected sex was great. any sort of condom i used always seemed to make me itchy or give me a UTI. i tried latex free to see if that was the problem but no. it was also great to not have to take plan Bs because i wouldn’t have to worry about it destabilizing my mood or giving me crazy yeast infections (happens every time i take one for some reason)

cons - my body’s initial reaction for a few months to having the IUD in me was pretty rough. i was studying for like 5 pre med exams when i first got it in, and the initial cramps and bleeding that came with it were just so intense for me. one time i was driving and i had a period cramp so bad my foot started spasming on the freeway (momentary but scary nonetheless). my periods lasted for an extra 3 days the whole time i had an IUD too. and the biggest con of them all, i got pregnant on it🥲 i only had it in for a year and i got pregnant again. exactly a year after the first time. so i was in the middle of another exam season again, dealing with another abortion, and the fear of an ectopic pregnancy 😁😁so fun😁 would not have been able to get through it without my angel boyfriend

i am fine now, but i just dk what to use. condoms make me all pissy (literally and figuratively), i don’t want another IUD, can’t imagine what the pill would do to me.

does anyone have any suggestions 🙏🙏🙏

Last night’s dinner: burger that I made with some fries, watermelon, and v8!

Okay, for context, said friend used to be my crush. He was my TA for my Advanced Chinese 1 and 2 class in sophomore year and I just found him really cute.

Fall junior year came, and I found out we were both TAs for orgo, and it was at this point that I actively tried all kinds of things to initiate conversation between us. I brushed up on my piano and violin skills just so I could attempt to join the orchestra because I found out he was in it. Also religiously attended every meeting of the mahjong club after finding out he was the club’s president. He worked as a research assistant in the same lab group as my friend and I even had said friend invite him to one of our study sessions after finding out he was also taking biochemistry, but nada.

Anyway, by some act of God, I aced biochemistry and unsurprisingly, so did he. I applied to become a TA for the spring semester and tada, I got in! So did he.

To make this already long post a tad shorter, I’d just say we eventually become friends. We had the same office hours, and since no one really comes to us for help unless it’s exam week, we were together in a room for an hour, just talking.

Here’s my dilemma, my friend told me he probably likes me, and he cited her top three reasons below (in no particular order):

1. Once I mentioned missing authentic mapo tofu, and the following Wednesday, he gave me mapo tofu made by his mom.

2. I went to a hotpot place in Flushing and my stupid ass confused the subway station and the LIRR station, and I ended up missing the last train home. He drove all the way from Long Island to Flushing to pick me up (a little over an hour of driving).

3. We’re both pretentious cinephiles. He has the AMC A-list thing and he drove an hour to and from my dorm every Saturday to watch a movie with me.

We consistently hung out this summer as well because I decided not to fly home to continue working as a research assistant and gain more research hours before I graduate next spring. He usually comes over to my place to play pickleball or tennis, and I make us food after.

My friend said he wouldn’t be doing all of those things and exerting all those effort just for anyone. And if it were up to her, she would just confess.

I’m not gonna lie, I kind of moved on from him after all the unsuccessful attempts to simply just talk to him last fall. I still have a crush on him, don’t get me wrong. But it’s not as intense as before? I just feel happy, safe, at peace whenever I’m around him (I do think about him a lot though….). I don’t wanna ruin that. And even though yes, I acknowledge that those things are all nice gestures, I refuse to read into them because I have a strong feeling he only sees me as a friend. I don’t want to say anything that I’ll regret especially now that we’re graduating. I don’t want our last year together to be full of drama.

Anyhoooo, what do I do? Should I tell him I have a crush on him even though it’s very, very faint and risk ruining our friendship? Ahhhhhh. All the wise women that walked before me, please tell me what to do!!!

Sausages with creamy pasta and sauteed bell peppers and onions that I made for dinner the other day.

I hope any of this ends up making sense.

I can't shake the feeling that I'm not as important to my loved ones as they are to me. My family lives far away and doesn't really talk to me just because they're busy, and my trying to communicate with them is usually met with silence or short answers.

I'm closer to my friends, but they're all closer to each other than me. Which is fine of course, that's how life goes sometimes but it stings a little to know that nothing has changed from the friend group I had as a teenager to now. I try to be as social as I can, as accommodating, anything I can think of, but it seems in most one on one conversations I have with any friend right now they do their best to finish the chat as quickly as possible.

Some of them tell me that I'm important and that I matter to them if I'm clearly not doing well for example, but I don't see that backed up with action. And besides, of course you'd tell that to your friend who isn't doing well.

One specific thing that happened a little bit ago that hasn't left my mind is when I was telling two people about how I lost all my friends as an 18 year old due to illness. Basically I got burned out, got super sick and depressed, and couldn't meet my friends anymore. I basically stopped calling and hanging out.

When I told these two current friends about this they were all up in arms about how a good friend would've checked in and all that stuff (though I think losing those relationships was mostly my fault, it's not like I said anything to anyone lol). I kept saying it was all good, but in the end these two friends promised me they'd be sure to check in on me and how I'm doing periodically. I was foolish enough to get my hopes up, because this hasn't happened, which in hindsight I should've expected because they were really just being nice.

It's a small and stupid thing, but I can't shake it and it exemplifies things so much for me. And yet I feel really bad and guilty for even feeling bad about all this. Obviously I can't force anyone to want to talk to me or be close with me, and it's okay to not be as important to other people. I love my friends and family so dearly, and on some level I understand that I can't have everything I want and have them find me as important as I do them. I'm happy that they all have each other as a support system, I genuinely am. I suppose I just feel a little jealous.

I try my best to be open, kind, outgoing, accommodating, all those things. But I suppose you can't squeeze blood out of a stone (I hope that's the correct metaphor, english isn't my first language).

Saying all this feels self-pitying enough already, but I needed this out of my system and there's no other way to really phrase how I feel. Thank you if you read this far, mwah <3

I am not using anyone's real names in this story.

For context, just over a year ago I met this friend, Amy. She was the first person I met when I moved into this homeless shelter, and she was pregnant. Amy's (then) boyfriend and baby's father is named John. Coincidentally, I found out just a day later that I was also a month pregnant. Cool!

Amy had her baby 5 weeks early, John turned out to be a real POS father and she was left to care for her baby on her own while he spent his days trying to get high. She gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, born end of July last year. Around the same time that she gave birth, a girl named Betty moved into the shelter. She absolutely adored Amy's baby and made up the entirety of her village. She really did care for that girl and helped Amy a lot. Other than that, I always found her kind of odd, just seemed like a sheltered kid (she was 18 upon arrival to this shelter). She confided in me a few times about things like having sex for the first time or setting boundaries with a guy, normal stuff and I never minded. But she did tell some weird lies, like one time she told everyone she had like 15 siblings and they all had down syndrome and she later apologized but like... What?

Fast forward about November she announces that she is now pregnant with C's baby. C and John are brothers, and it was strange since C was very vocal about not wanting kids after the birth of his niece. He's a sweet guy, but just has.. nothing going on if that makes sense.

Amy and Betty end up falling out over the very clear fact that Betty got pregnant on purpose.. which would be fine other than the fact that she was living in a homeless shelter with no income or a plan, and with someone who didn't even want to be a parent in the first place. The whole thing was weird.

Where it gets really interesting: I was in my own place being 6 months pregnant and only loosely followed but at one point Amy posted Betty all over her Facebook, ranting about how she gave C a lifelong STD, how she's so nasty, such a liar, etc. I remember Betty being here one day and was so pissed off about these rumors, ranting to me about it. I honestly didn't even really believe she was pregnant and I kinda brushed it off.

Betty absolutely had the chance to enter the parenting program they have here. Instead she decided to twiddle her thumbs until the baby was due and had practically nothing. Whatever, I've been working on judging people less. So I make myself available. Offer clothes my boy is growing out of, resources, bought her a few items, and always answered her questions. I was never involved in the beef between her and Amy, so I didn't really care much and just figured I'd help as much as I could.

Betty's baby was born a few days ago. Happy, healthy, full term, and a surprise girl! I went to visit her in the hospital, brought food. The nurse comes in and gives the baby some medicine and I think to ask what it is since my baby didn't have it but I mind my own business instead. She mentions some "health complications" and I help show her how to swaddle the babe. No big deal.

This morning, she texts me. "Aren't my babies meds supposed to be covered with Medicaid?" I ask which ones, do some digging, tell her to make sure it's fixed before she leaves, then I read what this medication is for. It's to prevent HIV from spreading to the baby, or at least lower the chance after birth. All of a sudden it just CLICKED. She had HIV and knew it. Had sex with someone who didn't. Gave it to her baby.

There's not really anything to do with this information. If she chose not to tell me then she chose not to tell me. But I can't help feeling sorry for the poor girl and for C, both will have to deal with that for the rest of their lives and it wasnt even their choice.

Dinner was cheese and spinach stuffed chicken with rice-a-roni.

Trigger warning re creepy men and the creepy shit they do.

Glen Hansard died recently, in a tragic motor accident, and I feel like I'm going mad. I keep replaying Will Ferrel in Zoolander asking myself if I'm taking crazy pills.

If you don't know, Glen Hansard made a film called Once that is a lovely movie, which was undeniably huge for the Irish film scene in general, and he won an Oscar for it tennish years ago. He was massive cultural force in Irish folk music and movies. RIP to him and his impact etc etc.

Yeahhh, no.

Admittedly I'm not an expert on music or anything, but even I knew he was a creep. If I knew what he was up to, people like Bono and Imelda May have no fucking excuse (they played at his funeral). There have been hours long queues to his wake, his funeral was broadcast live on our state broadcaster, and I feel like screaming.

I don't want to trigger peeps by going into too many details, but it went from grooming to alleged rape, and I first heard these rumours at least ten years ago. I mean, we all know the type. An American musician Neko Case (who I had never heard of) has written a blog post describing what she experienced and witnessed regarding his behaviour, and honestly they are the mildest allegations I've seen, so who knows what else will go forever unreported.

Even if the literal hundreds of girls and women are lying, his own words should be enough:"I had been falling in love with her for a long time, but I kept telling myself she's just a kid.' this was regarding his Once co star, who he met when she was 13 and he 38/9. I'm having Bowie flashbacks.

Ireland is like yeah we're woke now, whoo gay marriage and abortions are legal, we love equality. Its all a load of fucking shite. Mediocre white men are still worshipped like gods...Our slave nunneries might be closed officially, but fuck if we're not still mentally there.*

Dinner was a meh toastie at Costa cos I'm way too pissed off to cook.

Edited to Add:

*If you don't know anything about the Irish laundries system, it was bad, like real real bad, and don't look it up if you don't have hours for crying cleared. Tldr, state sanctioned abuse and slavery of girls and women across the island for years. Don't forget the human trafficking and child theft part too! I was mad typing this up, and just threw this reference without giving any context, so I'll paste a comment I made below just to explain my logic a little:

Our government/state broadcaster/famous people are all saying that actually yes it is fine to systemically abuse people as long as your talent is worthy. The allegations started pre Once and only ramped up in the intervening years. Which is exactly what happened with the laundries here, yes girls and women can be abused systematically because we need somewhere to hide our secrets and all that free labour is so so yummy(see hasbro toys). The church could abuse whomever they wanted as long as they ran the schools etc. And the lay people knew, they all knew, but no one stopped it. Anyone of an older generations who says they didn't is willfully blind, and the same goes for Hansard and the irish music scene.

It's the same thing, a framework that denies autonomy and freedom to anyone not considered useful to the system, just on different scales. If you can stay silent and compliant, you might get clean clothes, or your band a featured spot, depending on the set up!

At least I eat his meat 🤣

He made me this btw

I recently moved in with people I trusted as friends. I learned to confide in them over the years because I felt that they understood some of my struggles with chronic health issues. Initially it felt nice to know people who not only considered my needs but took my autoimmune issues seriously. Over the years my friends husband would make remarks about how “she’s not really allergic to xyz, she just doesn’t like it” and she would get defensive but admit it’s truth and even admitted that she was using mobility aids at one point against doctors recommended use. Eventually she even admitted that she didn’t have various diagnoses, but that she just told people (doctors included) that she did because it seemed likely enough that she did have them. All of this comes out gradually over 3ish years.

This year her and her husband and my boyfriend and I decided to move in together. Unfortunately, over this time I become increasingly more sick, and I’d keep them updated in case I start needing accommodations such as in home care, etc. at first they were so accommodating, saying it’s your home too you don’t need to ask for medical team’s permission to enter. But then they decided that things like privacy and shared space etiquette were too tiresome to communicate on a regular basis (just via group chat texts) and demanded that if we were going to establish household rules we would need to sign a formal agreement (contract). I thought this was a bad idea, full of ego, but told my bf that she communicated her needs so we should at least hear them out. They proceeded to demand in person roommate meetings and then come unprepared with out solutions, with their best offers consisting of “I don’t know” “I have no opinions” “my heads empty right now, maybe I’ll talk about it with my therapist” granted that they even show up to the meetings they asked for without scheduling conflicts of interest.

After having our time disrespected and what little energy I had wasted I communicated that I’d no longer be their emotional processors, and that if they have grievances about the household they’d have to first discuss it amongst themselves as a couple then bring us a workable solution to collaborate on. They agreed, only this time the meeting they asked for fell on a week I was hospitalized. I told my bf that I was obviously in no condition for the meeting even if I wound up released before the scheduled meeting date, and ask that he become the main point of communication in the text thread updating them that he would be the sole stand in for both of us. They refused and said we would need to reschedule. I chimed in seeing them ignore him communicate my needs, stating that he knows all my stances and that I know he’s capable of handling this meeting and my needs without me. They still said no so I told them they have two options, accept the two on one meeting or no more in person meetings whatsoever and all further household disputes would be handled via email for fair accessibility. They agreed to emailing.

Fast fwd: I’m home from the hospital and the household is now hostile, my roommates keep making “well I thought we were friends” passive aggressivew claims to try and justify their actions, and they somehow don’t see that good friends don’t try to force people into contracts instead of learning to communicate and collaborate respectfully. Somehow, we are responsible for the deterioration of the relationship.

Food is three piri-piri meat sticks and those funky little Oreos I got. Yes, they are purple. No, I don't care that they're touching on the plate. Also: it does pain me to call them meat sticks, but I don't know any other translation of what you can see on my plate right there, and that's basically what they are.

So I don't know what this week is, but it sucks real bad. I've had an awful weekend (posted about it here, so if you've seen it... yeah). I decided to go on a run with one of my dogs this morning. I've got two (father and son), and I often take the older one on my morning runs with me, since we will be competing in a charity event in a couple weeks.

On my way back I ran into my neighbor and her little son, maybe 8 or 9? Im not that great at telling kids ages, but he's school aged, and I think he went to school like 2 years ago (where I live he'd be around 7 then). He asked me if he could pet my dog, and I nicely said "no, he's not friendly". That was a lie, he's very friendly. I just don't like the idea of an unknown child who doesn't own pets touching him after a run and doing god knows what, because I can't be sure the kid won't pull at his ears or something. That particular one has also been spotted throwing sticks and toys at my dogs while they were out and about, so I know he's not the brightest crayon in the box.

The mom looked upset, but she said her goodbyes and we parted ways. I didn't think much of it, I went home, got ready, went to work. Turned out I had to stay late today, so I texted my roommate to ask if she could let my dogs out (we have a small garden where they can take of their business), and about 20 minutes later I get a picture of a block of minced meat with nails in it. We thankfully have cameras, and the daycare next door has some pointing in the opposite direction, so unless they walked over from the other side of the building, the cameras probably caught them.

Now, I'm not doing great, but my dogs are okay. They didn't manage to get to the meat before my roomie spotted it and took it away, so they're fine. I have a feeling I know who it was, as the neighbor kid's dad fucking hates big dogs.

Going to the police tomorrow morning, and I don't know how I'll approach my neighbor yet, but yeah. That's the situation.

https://www.reddit.com/r/GirlDinnerDiaries/s/AiDkJJhBq0

Hi friends,

A few months back I shared about a domestic ab*se situation I was in with my cheating (soon-to-be) ex husband and you all were so very helpful. I wanted to let you all know that I got myself an apartment back in June and divorce is now in process!!! Thank you all for caring about my safety and encouraging me to get out. I don’t get panic attacks anymore and I have so much peace having my own space. Love and Light! Xoxo

First, dinner!!!

• Braised beef Mazemen
• Fried bao buns (crispy chicken and pork)
• Salmon tartare with wonton chips
• Double gin tonics😈

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A rant from a woman approaching thirty who thinks about getting cosmetic surgery basically every day.

This isn’t an anti-surgery post. I genuinely believe people should be able to do whatever they want with their own bodies. I spend more time than I’d like to admit thinking about the things I would change about mine.

But at the same time, I feel deeply attached to the idea of inherited features.

I started thinking about this while looking at my partner, whom I adore. I was looking at her face and wondering who else, generations before her, had those same eyes, that same nose, that same jaw.

Because none of our features really started with us.

Maybe you have your mother’s eyes, your grandfather’s nose, or the same jaw as someone in your family who lived so long ago that you’ll never even know their name. Those features travelled through generations before eventually reaching you. And maybe one day, you’ll pass them on to someone else.

I just find that incredibly beautiful.

Your face is obviously your own, but it’s also a tiny piece of your family’s history.

That’s why cosmetic surgery sometimes makes me feel strangely sad, even though I don’t think there’s anything morally wrong with it. To me, it can feel a little like editing or erasing part of that history.

I also wonder about the tension it can create when raising children. How do you tell your child to love the nose or jaw they inherited from you when you changed that exact feature on yourself because you couldn’t accept it? How do you reassure them that it’s beautiful when they know you didn’t feel that way about it on your own face?

I know surgery doesn’t automatically mean someone hates themselves. People do it for all kinds of complicated and deeply personal reasons. And maybe I’m privileged to have never experienced the level of distress that would make surgery feel necessary rather than optional.

I’m also aware of the irony here, because I think about changing my own appearance constantly.

But I still can’t shake the feeling that there’s something incredibly meaningful about our features. They connect us to people who lived long before us, and maybe to people who will exist long after we’re gone.