Childhood

💔 When a Soul Leaves: The Unbearable Silence After Losing a Beloved Dog
There are moments in life when time simply stops. When the world becomes unbearably quiet, and the familiar rhythm of love that filled our days disappears — not because love ended, but because the heart that carried it is gone.
By Stefano D'angello3 months ago in Confessions
Johnson & Johnson Talcum Powder Lawsuit: A Battle for Truth and Accountability. AI-Generated.
--- A Trusted Brand Under Fire For decades, Johnson & Johnson was one of the most trusted names in personal care. Generations of families used its baby powder, believing it to be pure, gentle, and safe. The white bottle with its familiar scent became a symbol of comfort for millions of parents.
By Fiaz Ahmed 3 months ago in Confessions
The Difference Between Hatred and Holy Intolerance
There is a dangerous confusion in today’s world. People are told that loving others means accepting everything they say, everything they do, and everything they believe. But love without truth is not love. It is surrender and cowardice disguised as compassion.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast3 months ago in Confessions
The Promise We Never Kept. AI-Generated.
. The Beginning Rain was pouring when Sara stood outside the small hospital gate, holding a soaked paper bag with food in it.
By Ghanni malik3 months ago in Confessions
My Life Story. Content Warning.
It all started as a two-week-old baby. At two weeks old I had to deal with my own immune system, and my immune system collapsed. I was on the verge of death. No doctor really understood what I had. They thought I was born old, because I had no hair, no eyelashes, not even nails. I was born with nothing. And my sister thought I was some kind of alien.
By MyStories3 months ago in Confessions
Why I Hate Older Men
Growing up with separated parents and family-related crisis hampered my mental health, but it never brought me to my knees. I never gave in to feeling unworthy.
By Sarah Ogbebor3 months ago in Confessions
Monster under my bed . Content Warning.
when i was little, i used to think monsters only came out at night. the kind you hide under the covers from, the kind that wait for you under your bed, the kind you pray your dad will forever protect you from.
By angelina farrugia3 months ago in Confessions
Letter to the Child I Used to Be
My dear younger self, If you could read these words, you’d probably smile in disbelief. You’re still there, in your small room, surrounded by toys and enormous dreams, not knowing that the world will change you more than you can imagine. I’m writing this from a future you could never have drawn with your colored pencils — a future where you’ll learn what pain means, but also healing, what it means to lose and to find yourself again.
By Nyku Blondu3 months ago in Confessions
The Day My Supervisor Said the Shahada
The Day My Supervisor Said the Shahada” (An Unexpected Journey to Faith) I had worked under Mr. Thompson for almost three years. He was the kind of supervisor everyone respected — strict, punctual, and professional. But behind that calm demeanor, there was a cold distance. He never joined us for Friday prayers, even though he would always excuse us early.
By waseem khan3 months ago in Confessions
“The Umbrella That Changed Everything: A Stranger, a Storm, and a Lesson I’ll Never Forget”
The Umbrella That Changed Everything: A Stranger, a Storm, and a Lesson I’ll Never Forget” By : Sami ullah It was one of those gray Tuesdays that feels like a Monday in disguise. My alarm didn’t go off, my coffee tasted burnt, and my boss’s email subject line — “Can we talk?” — sat in my inbox like a ticking bomb.
By Sami ullah3 months ago in Confessions
The Confession Hidden in My Father’s Wallet
When my father died, I couldn’t throw away his things. For months after the funeral, his jacket still hung by the door, his shoes lined neatly under the bench, as if he might walk in any moment.
By Malaika Piolet3 months ago in Confessions
The Yes Next Door. Content Warning.
We make it to the kitchen because water sounds wise and the bed was becoming a storm with no edges. The light over the sink is a warm coin; the counter is cool, slick under my palms. She hands me a glass and watches me drink like the act itself is foreplay. Maybe it is.
By Chahat Kaur3 months ago in Confessions