Stream of Consciousness
The 7 Spiritual Lessons Hidden in Toxic Relationships
We don’t talk enough about the sacred purpose of pain. When it comes to love, we’re taught to chase the fairy tale—the soulmate, the twin flame, the “forever.” But often, the most transformative relationships aren’t the soft ones. They’re the ones that crack us open.
By Great pleasure6 months ago in Confessions
Sleep Less, Build More: Inside the Obsessive Mind of Elon Musk
Sleep Less, Build More: Inside the Obsessive Mind of Elon Musk Genre: Inspirational / Confessional I thought I knew what hard work was. I thought staying up until 2 a.m. editing video or hitting "send" on emails during lunch breaks made me some kind of hustler. But then I decided—on a dare and a bit of delusion—to follow Elon Musk’s 80–100 hour workweek schedule.
By waseem khan6 months ago in Confessions
The Day My Father Looked Weak for the First Time
Growing up, I always saw my father as a symbol of strength. He was the kind of man who could fix anything — from a broken bicycle to a leaking faucet — without breaking a sweat. To me, he was invincible. His presence filled the house with a sense of security and calm. No matter how hard life got, my father was always there, steady and unshakable.
By Misbah 6 months ago in Confessions
“The Weight I Couldn't Name: Learning It's Okay to Not Be Okay”
I used to be really good at pretending. Smiling on cue. Saying "I'm fine" with such conviction, even I started to believe it. Laughing a little too loudly, staying a little too busy, and collecting “wins” in life like trophies — hoping they would quiet the growing ache I couldn't name.
By Moments & Memoirs6 months ago in Confessions
His Secret Changed Everything
How One Man’s Hidden Life Destroyed a Family and Shattered a Small Town’s Trust Crestwood was the kind of town where everyone knew everyone—or at least, they thought they did. Neighbors waved from their porches. The baker knew your favorite pastry. And secrets? They didn’t last long.
By Hamad Haider6 months ago in Confessions
A Day in my Life
As I put the laundry into the dryer and then put another load into the washer, I realize I still need to put up the leftovers from supper. The cat(the fat one that always wants food) meows loudly in protest as I put our food away. I smile down at him, "Ok, Macaroni, I'll feed you before bed." My daughter, Elizabeth, stands there waiting for me to come to bed. She has that thumb in her mouth again and her blanket/bear in her hands, and I've about given up hope of her ever stopping that thumb sucking. She is 10 years old and she'll be 11 in the Fall, and I swear she still acts like a 6-year-old sometimes. Hell, who am I kidding? That's most days. "I'm coming," I tell her as I finish feeding Macaroni and the other cats who decided to join in on the late-night snack. My life is chaotic, hectic, and I never get a moment to myself. I'm exhausted. I'm a single mom to a beautiful 10-year-old who just got diagnosed with autism, and a highly intelligent 17-year-old young man with ADHD. I keep two jobs just to make ends meet, and even that isn't enough sometimes. I've started back at college. I want to become a therapist someday, a crisis counselor. I should've done this long ago, and maybe I wouldn't be struggling so much right now. I can't lie because, for one, I'm not very good at it. My face tells the story. Life has not been an easy street for me. I don't have a savings account, I count pennies at the drive-through just to give my kid some lunch or to pay for gas for the car, and lying is not the only thing my face shows, it also shows the years. My children's father has never been very supportive, but we did love each other once upon a time. That feels like another lifetime now. Then, there was the toxic romance that about took everything from me. Now, I have tried to find love again, but it seems that the tank is empty. I'm happier and safer alone. Honestly, I don't have the energy for anyone else. My daughter needs me almost every second of the day and wants to know where I am down to the minute. I'm exhausted to the point my bones hurt. To the point, I cry. I keep pushing through each day by just saying, "Just do this one last thing and you can take a break," but the truth is? It never ends. I hope one day it does, but right now that day feels so far away. My beautiful baby girl, whom her father barely knows. She's so creative, smart, and she has such big dreams. I worry about her anxiety and social phobias. She is so extremely attached to me, and I am glad we are close, but I wish she felt comfortable enough with herself and the world around her to explore and figure out things for herself without having to hold my hand every step of the way. I'm angry to have to do this alone. I'm upset that I'm having to do this with no help from their father. He helps financially every once in a while. To be honest, what he gives me barely makes a dent in what it takes to raise these children. I'm doing it, though, and I'll do it again and again. Every damn day. Why? Because to me they are worth it. They are so worth it! And I am pissed that he doesn't feel the same! I'm pissed that I have to always be the strong one. I have to hold everything together because no one else will. The world is on my shoulders, and I feel every single bit of it. It is so heavy, and there is no one to help bear that weight at the end of the day. The sad thing is that I don't even trust anyone to help at this point because I feel like I'll owe them if they help. Everything comes at a price. Everyone wants something. Another little piece of me. I wonder as I lie watching my daughter sleep, my biggest fear and constant worry, "When will there be no more pieces of me left to give?"
By Lindsey Altom6 months ago in Confessions
Unspoken
I’ve always believed that the most powerful stories are the ones no one ever hears. They live quietly, tucked inside us — in half-written journals, in unfinished letters, in the moments when we stare at the ceiling and wonder what if. They never make it to stages or bookshelves. They don’t go viral. But they shape us more than any story we tell out loud.
By Muhammad Abuzar Badshah 6 months ago in Confessions
The Firefly That Refused to Fade
Story: On the edge of a quiet village, nestled in tall blades of grass, lived a firefly unlike any other. His name was Lumo, and unlike most fireflies who blinked their lights for brief moments of courtship or instinct, Lumo carried a different fire—one not just in his abdomen, but deep within his soul.
By Ihsan Ullah LLC6 months ago in Confessions
