Top Stories
Stories in Confessions that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Things I Learned about being 27
Marriage, kids, career, and life in general: it's okay to not master the universe. I think the hardest thing about being 27 is not punching people in the face when they remind me how close to 30 I am. And how far from marriage I appear to be.
By Mae McCreery4 years ago in Confessions
Dating Terms for Noobs: Part 1: Breadcrumbing
Bread crumbs. They’re delicious crunchy bits of carby goodness. They enhance basically any recipe, they can be used to manipulate small winged creatures into being your friend, and they’re superb for abandoning small German children in witch-infested forests. Recently though, the term has been used to describe crumby behavior on dating apps.
By Chloe Gray4 years ago in Confessions
Dear Sol
Dear Sol, I’ve been ignoring you for four months. The dictionary definition of Modern Day Torture should include being left on ‘read’, shouldn’t it? I could pretend I never received the messages, but I know you know I did. I never want to ignore you but what am I supposed to do with the stones you’ve put in my pockets? They’re heavy and not one of them mine to hold.
By Blooming Frank 4 years ago in Confessions
Cholesterol and Cartwheels
Here’s the thing about time, they tell you that it flies, but they don’t tell you the other part. Sure, it flies, but oddly enough, it also stands completely still. Well, maybe not completely, but almost. It’s a strange contradiction, or more accurately, series of contradictions, that pop up sometime after 40 and really makes itself known once you hit 50. Somehow, I find myself stuck somewhere between young ingénue and cranky old lady. It’s a fine and strange line to straddle. Here are some examples:
By Misty Rae4 years ago in Confessions
I Used to be Fast
I used to be fast. I've had fleeting moments, but could never pinpoint a time in my life I could confidently say, "I am happy." I wonder if anyone truly is because I cannot conceive of that feeling lasting longer than a few minutes at most. I hear people say they are and feel how I imagine the blind must feel when being told about color. The knowing that I don't understand and never will is as horrible as it is perplexing.
By M.C. Murphy 5 years ago in Confessions
I Still Check The Back Of Wardrobes
I wasn't middle-class enough to be read to, instead, I perfected reading by torchlight so I didn't wake up my brother with whom I shared a room. My parents would turn a blind-eye to the little glowing tent I formed every evening. Today, such a glow would be emanating from a screen and Youtube but in the late 80s and early 90s, the glow was reflecting off the heavily thumbed pages of The Chronicles of Narnia.
By Argumentative Penguin5 years ago in Confessions
What I learned from divorcing my parents
Here is an early memory of me being a kindergartener. My mom and I were sorting recent photos and adding them to the photo album (Photo album — Wikipedia). As she flipped through the pictures, she picked out a photo of me happily posing like a bunny in front of a fancy hotel.
By Grimreapers.Ink5 years ago in Confessions
