fact or fiction

Is it a fact or is it merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores relationship myths and truths to get your head out of the clouds and back into romantic reality.

The Mall
Maggie was happy with her hip replacement. The physical therapist stretched her legs and massaged her lower back, then watched as Maggie did hip flexor exercises and the rest of the recovery routine. The surgery had been six months ago, and Maggie was now working on her strength, stamina, and balance. She went to PT and water aerobics twice a week. She planned to ski in the upcoming season.
By Andrea Corwin 6 days ago in Humans
The Silent Struggle: Understanding the "Non-Proactive" Heart of a Woman
In the world of emotions, everyone eventually encounters a period of agonizing hesitation—especially when "holding on" becomes the dominant theme of the heart. For many women, affection is a delicate and deep-rooted tapestry. Even when a relationship reaches its breaking point, truly letting go is rarely a clean break.
By Elena Vance 7 days ago in Humans
Friendly Guide to Building Authentic Connections. AI-Generated.
Human bonds shape daily choices, health, and identity. Social roles, emotional needs, and cultural scripts determine how people form and maintain relationships.
By Umair958 days ago in Humans
We Call It Moving On When It’s Really Just Numbing
We Call It Moving On When It’s Really Just Numbing They told me I was doing well. “You’ve moved on,” they said, like it was a medal I’d earned, like survival was proof of healing. I nodded when they said it. I smiled, even. Smiling is easy when you’ve learned how to hollow yourself out just enough to make room for it. From the outside, it looked convincing. I went back to work. I answered messages. I laughed at the right moments. I posted photos that suggested progress—coffee cups, sunsets, neutral captions that meant nothing and everything at once. I stopped crying in public. I stopped crying at all, actually. That’s when people became most impressed. What they didn’t see was the way my chest felt quieter than it should have. Not peaceful—just muted. Like someone had turned the volume knob down on my life and misplaced it somewhere between “tolerable” and “numb.” We call that moving on. Real grief is inconvenient. It’s loud. It disrupts schedules and makes people uncomfortable. It asks for patience when the world is in a hurry. Numbing, on the other hand, is tidy. It fits neatly into routines. It doesn’t scare anyone. You can numb yourself and still be productive, still be polite, still be praised for your resilience. So I learned how. I learned how to stop expecting things. How to stop reaching too far emotionally, because reaching requires the possibility of being met—or worse, being disappointed. I learned how to keep conversations light, how to avoid memories that might crack something open. I learned which songs to skip, which streets to avoid, which thoughts to shut down mid-sentence. I told myself this was strength. There’s a strange comfort in emotional anesthesia. When you feel nothing, nothing can hurt you. Loss loses its sharpness. Love loses its risk. Everything flattens into a manageable sameness. You wake up, you go through the motions, you sleep. Days stack on top of each other like blank pages you don’t have to write on. People say time heals, but time doesn’t heal on its own. Time just passes. What you do inside it matters. And what I did was freeze. I didn’t miss you the way I used to. That was the first sign something was wrong. At first, the absence was unbearable. You were everywhere—songs, habits, inside jokes that ambushed me at random. I carried you like a weight I couldn’t put down. Then one day, I noticed I hadn’t thought about you for hours. Then days. Then weeks. Everyone congratulated me for that too. But forgetting isn’t the same as healing. Forgetting is just another form of disappearance. The truth is, I didn’t move forward. I stepped sideways into emotional neutrality and called it progress. I replaced pain with distance, grief with distraction. I stayed busy. Busy enough to outrun my own thoughts. Busy enough to never sit still long enough for feeling to catch up. We mistake functionality for wellness in a world that rewards performance. If you’re still showing up, still producing, still smiling on command, no one asks what it costs you internally. No one asks what parts of yourself you’ve had to silence to stay acceptable. Numbing is quiet self-betrayal. It’s choosing not to feel joy too deeply because joy reminds you how far you can fall. It’s choosing not to love fully because love once took too much from you. It’s surviving by shrinking your emotional range until life fits inside something you can control. I told myself I was protecting my heart. What I was really doing was starving it. There were moments—small, inconvenient ones—when the numbness cracked. A laugh that lingered too long. A memory that slipped through my defenses. A sudden wave of sadness with no obvious trigger. Those moments scared me more than the pain ever did. Because pain meant I still cared. Pain meant I wasn’t as gone as I pretended to be. So I pushed those moments away too. People don’t warn you that numbing comes with side effects. That when you dull the pain, you dull everything else along with it. That sunsets look the same but feel emptier. That connections feel thinner. That you can’t selectively shut down parts of your heart without consequences. I started to feel like a guest in my own life—present, but not fully participating. Watching instead of experiencing. Existing instead of living. And still, everyone kept saying I’d moved on. Moving on is supposed to feel like growth. Like expansion. Like learning how to carry what hurt you without letting it define you. Numbing feels like contraction. Like making yourself smaller so the world can’t hit you as hard. I didn’t want to admit that, because admitting it meant acknowledging I was still afraid. Afraid to feel deeply again. Afraid that if I let myself feel, everything I’d buried would come rushing back all at once. But healing isn’t about avoiding pain forever. It’s about learning how to feel it without letting it consume you. I’m not there yet. I won’t pretend I am. Some days, the numbness still feels safer than the alternative. Some days, I miss the quiet it gave me. But I’m starting to recognize that safety and stagnation can look a lot alike. That just because something doesn’t hurt doesn’t mean it’s healthy. So I’m learning—slowly, clumsily—to feel again. To sit with discomfort instead of anesthetizing it. To let joy be risky. To let grief be honest. To stop calling emotional shutdown “moving on” just because it makes other people more comfortable. Maybe moving on isn’t about forgetting or numbing or proving how okay you are. Maybe it’s about letting yourself be fully human again—even when that hurts.
By Talhakhan8 days ago in Humans
Alexander the Great — Part 4: Death, Division, and an Immortal Legacy
Babylon had become Alexander’s administrative center and was intended to be the capital of his vast empire. The city was strategically located and symbolized the blending of Eastern and Western cultures — a key vision for Alexander. He planned new military campaigns, including a possible invasion of Arabia, and began organizing naval expeditions. However, after days of heavy drinking and planning, Alexander suddenly fell ill. Ancient sources describe him suffering from fever, weakness, and the gradual loss of speech. Within roughly ten days, he died. The exact cause of Alexander’s death remains one of history’s great mysteries. Some historians suggest malaria, typhoid fever, or another disease common in the region. Others believe complications from old battle wounds and exhaustion contributed to his decline. There have also been theories of poisoning, though evidence remains inconclusive. Whatever the cause, the sudden loss of such a powerful ruler left a massive empire without clear leadership. Alexander had not named a definitive successor. When asked on his deathbed who should inherit the empire, he reportedly said, “To the strongest.” Whether this statement is accurate or not, it reflected the reality that followed. His generals, known as the Diadochi, began competing for control. At first, they attempted to maintain unity by ruling in the name of Alexander’s unborn son and his half-brother, but tensions quickly escalated into open conflict. The Wars of the Diadochi lasted for decades. Former allies turned against each other, carving the empire into separate kingdoms. Ptolemy took control of Egypt and established a dynasty that would rule for nearly three centuries. Seleucus gained vast territories in the east, forming the Seleucid Empire. Antigonus and his descendants controlled parts of Asia Minor and Greece. Instead of a single unified empire, Alexander’s conquests transformed into a network of Hellenistic states. Despite political fragmentation, Alexander’s cultural influence continued to grow. His campaigns had spread Greek language, art, and philosophy across Asia and the Middle East. This fusion of Greek and local traditions created what historians call the Hellenistic world. Cities founded by Alexander, especially Alexandria in Egypt, became centers of learning and innovation. The Library of Alexandria housed thousands of scrolls and attracted scholars from across the known world. Advances in science, mathematics, astronomy, and medicine flourished during this period. Alexander’s leadership style also left a lasting impact. He encouraged cultural integration, adopting aspects of Persian dress and customs and promoting marriages between his soldiers and local populations. Though some of his Macedonian troops resisted these policies, they contributed to the blending of cultures that defined the Hellenistic age. Trade routes expanded, connecting Mediterranean markets with those in India and Central Asia. Ideas and technologies traveled along these routes, shaping civilizations for centuries. Over time, Alexander became more than a historical figure; he became a legend. Stories about his life were retold in many cultures, each adding its own interpretations. In Greek and Roman traditions, he was portrayed as a heroic conqueror and brilliant strategist. In Persian and Middle Eastern tales, he appeared as a complex ruler, sometimes wise and sometimes destructive. In South Asian folklore, he was remembered as a powerful but distant invader. These varied portrayals demonstrate how deeply his story resonated across different societies. Historians continue to debate Alexander’s character. Some view him as a visionary who sought to unite diverse peoples under a shared culture. Others see him as an ambitious conqueror driven by personal glory. He could be generous and respectful toward defeated enemies, as seen with King Porus, but also ruthless when facing resistance. His execution of close companions, such as the general Parmenion, and his increasing demand for divine honors reveal the pressures and changes he experienced as his empire grew. What is certain is that Alexander transformed the ancient world in an extraordinarily short time. In little more than a decade, he dismantled one of the largest empires in history and replaced it with a new cultural and political landscape. His campaigns opened routes for trade and communication between East and West, influencing the spread of ideas that would shape future civilizations. Even the rise of the Roman Empire was indirectly influenced by the Hellenistic states that emerged from Alexander’s conquests. Alexander’s tomb itself became part of the mystery surrounding his legacy. After his death, his body was placed in a golden sarcophagus and eventually transported to Egypt. It was displayed in Alexandria, where later rulers and visitors reportedly paid their respects. Over time, however, the exact location of his tomb was lost. Despite numerous searches, it has never been definitively found, adding another layer to the legend of the man who conquered so much yet left behind unanswered questions. Part 4 of Alexander’s story shows that while his life ended abruptly, his influence did not. His empire fractured, but his vision of cultural connection endured. He remains a symbol of ambition, leadership, and the complexities of power. Alexander the Great’s journey from a young Macedonian prince to the ruler of a vast empire continues to inspire fascination. His story is not only about conquest but also about the spread of ideas, the blending of cultures, and the enduring impact one individual can have on the course of history.
By Say the truth 8 days ago in Humans
The Lies We Are Told
Introduction I have been unable to post a new story since the 23rd of November 2025. Now, when I raise a ticket, I get no acknowledgement, and I cannot trace what is happening.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 9 days ago in Humans
Love Without Clinging: Awakening's Gift
On the path to awakening, one question will constantly knock on your door: "If I become clear-headed, can I still deeply love someone?"
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing9 days ago in Humans
Swat Valley in 2010: The Aftermath of Operation Rah-e-Rast
Introduction The year 2010 holds deep historical significance for the Swat Valley in Pakistan. While the military operation Rah-e-Rast was officially launched in 2009, its aftermath defined 2010. This period was marked by the slow return of peace, the rehabilitation of millions of displaced civilians, the rebuilding of destroyed infrastructure, and the psychological recovery of a society that had endured years of militant control.
By Hamza khan9 days ago in Humans
Reckoning
An interesting thing happened to me the other day, I recalled a memory and a time which I believe I’ve been subconsciously trying to block out of my mind, and the truth of the matter is, I’ve been successful in doing so not because I’ve been unwilling to retell how I lived my life through those times, but because many people have an almost unsworn guarded secrecy to open it up in conversation and talk about what transpired for them during this period, I’m talking about COVID.
By Malachai Hough9 days ago in Humans
The Invisible Thread
It started with a simple feeling, almost imperceptible—a tug in the chest, a quiet whisper in the mind. Lina couldn’t explain it at first. She would think of someone she hadn’t seen in years, and moments later, a message would arrive. A friend she hadn’t called, a name she hadn’t spoken, suddenly appearing in her life as if drawn by invisible hands.
By Sudais Zakwan10 days ago in Humans
Speaking to Time Instead of the Room
Much of modern communication is oriented toward immediacy. Writing is framed as something meant to be consumed quickly, reacted to instantly, and replaced just as fast by whatever comes next. Under this model, the value of a piece is measured almost entirely by its initial reception. If it does not land immediately, it is treated as a failure. This assumption narrows the purpose of writing and misunderstands how meaning actually travels through time.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast10 days ago in Humans
Shadows
There is a voice most people never talk about, not because it is rare, but because it is so familiar it feels like part of the self. It is not loud in the way the world understands loudness. It does not shout or demand attention. It hums beneath thought, beneath action, beneath moments that should feel complete. It carries weight quietly, shaping how brilliance is held rather than how it is expressed.
By Gladys Kay Sidorenko11 days ago in Humans