Secrets
Things I've Never Admitted To You
Dear Mom, I made you a promise once that I didn't understand at the time. However, it seemed to matter more than anything in the world. When I made the promise, I couldn't have known why you asked it of me. So, on this day, your birthday, and before it is mothers day, I am going to share things with you that I haven't shared before.
By Jason Ray Morton 4 years ago in Confessions
Dear Mom . Runner-Up in Mother's Day Confessions Challenge. Top Story - May 2022.
Dear Mom, It wasn’t Aunt Dot who stole the painkillers from the medicine cabinet. It was me. I know, I carried the guilt around with me for 36 years, and trust me, so many times I was going to tell you the truth, and then…I didn’t.
By Catherine Kenwell4 years ago in Confessions
Dear Mom, . Runner-Up in Mother's Day Confessions Challenge.
Dear Mom, This letter is probably way overdue but its hard to tell you all the things I want to without being scared of what you will say. The depression was hard, and I know you blame yourself for it, but we talked and I confided and you accepted that part of me; the dark parts full of depravity and loss and hatred. I know you feel it too, even if you pretend that you don't, I see it in the little comments you make, the gestures that are slow and uncoordinated, your gaze blank with the screams of millions of pieces of yourself shattering every time I, someone, screamed "I hate you!"
By Steph Ruff4 years ago in Confessions
Love will never be found
He came back into my life. We agreed, we both knew it would be temporary. It still hurts. It’s hurt everyday knowing that he was going to walk back out as easily as the first time. The vain and meaningless I love you’s whispered in my ear from time to time. The longing I feel as his arms wrap around me and he holds me close in the dark. Each day passing and I know, I know the end is near. It came quicker than I thought. The end of May.
By Lea Wilson 4 years ago in Confessions
This Is What Happened When My Astrologer Told Me I’m Psychic
“I’m psychic?” I was stunned. I only knew that I had a vivid nightmare when I was about 7 years old. I dreamed of zombies jumping out one by one from a paper door into a procession. Their stone faces without expressions foretold my merciless emotional hardships.
By Life Lesson4 years ago in Confessions
Stereotypes in advertising
The use of stereotypes in advertising is old. Since brands try to increase sales, they have made use of these often simplistic or erroneous conceptions about groups of people, which do not take into account the particularities of each individual within that group.
By M. F.Paul4 years ago in Confessions
Yesterday I had an amazing chance to complete a life goal!
I wrote down a long list of things I was proud I had accomplished so far. It was good to take a 40-year view of life. In fact, I consider this moment one of the pivotal moments in my adventure on Earth. It helped put my journey and path in perspective. After I took inventory of all the good things I had accomplished and experienced I turned my attention to the future.
By Danniel4 years ago in Confessions
Courage Is Grace Under Pressure
April 5, 1914 morning time It has nearly been 2 years since that horrid tragedy aboard the Titanic. Today I spoke with a reporter from the New York Times and described my experience aboard until the tears falling down my face could reach my glass. Upon this, I dismissed her and told her to call again tomorrow. Reflecting on that night, I will always be tormented by the mass bodies and screams for help that pierced the air. One cry, in particular, was that of a little boy-THE little boy. To this day, I am haunted by the ghost of him-tormented in my very soul that I could not save him. The sweetest soul ever seen in a boy here and now, though I could not save him. All of Caroline’s connections have made it impossible to so much as set foot outside this banishment of mine. The days are unbearably lonely and the only company I have is my precious Jakey. I did so want him to have a brother to run and play with- that little boy who perished beneath the bitter ice swallowing the ship. I have been unable to sleep and many nights lay awake, haunted by the terror of screams as people died nearly as instant as their bodies touched the water. I feel shame and guilt for surviving. What made me more special than every soul on board? My husbands' money? My social status? Every person should have been valued. Money means nothing to me and has only brought me unhappiness and a wealth of control through Caroline. My days are unhappy ones and I fear I soon may break. I hope soon to be free of their control, though I am not sure how this could be. I must go now, for the reporter has returned. I hope to share more of my story with her.
By marion scott4 years ago in Confessions
