Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Psyche.

The Emotional Cost of Always Trying to Be Liked
The Day She Realized She'd Disappeared At her own birthday party, surrounded by forty-three people, Claire felt completely alone.
By Ameer Moavia19 days ago in Psyche
Why Some People Apologize Even When They’re Not Wrong
Emma said "sorry" seventeen times before noon. Sorry for asking a question in the meeting. Sorry for walking through a door someone was holding. Sorry for her email being too long. Sorry for her email being too short. Sorry for needing to use the bathroom during a Zoom call. Sorry for existing in spaces that other people also existed in.
By Ameer Moavia19 days ago in Psyche
The Spine-Cracked Confessions
The library groaned, a familiar, ancient sound Elias had come to mistake for breathing. It was 4:30 AM, cold enough to see his breath in the vast reading room, even before the heating kicked in properly. He moved through the cavernous space, a lone figure amidst a million hushed stories, the scuff of his work boots the only intrusion on the deep quiet. Dust motes, like tiny, lost stars, danced in the weak pre-dawn light filtering through the high, arched windows. He loved this hour, before the students arrived, before the murmurs and the rustle of turning pages, before the world remembered the library existed.
By HAADI19 days ago in Psyche
How Constant Comparison Slowly Breaks Self-Worth
It started with a wedding photo. Jessica was scrolling through Instagram at 7:23 a.m., still in bed, coffee cooling on her nightstand. The algorithm served her a picture of someone she'd gone to college with—Amber, who she hadn't thought about in years.
By Ameer Moavia19 days ago in Psyche
I Let AI Help Run My Love Life in 2025 — And It Got a Little Too Honest
If you’ve been single in 2025, you already know: the dating apps are starting to feel less like apps and more like ecosystems. Profiles are written by AI, photos are filtered by AI, and now, if you want, your whole “compatibility journey” can be guided by an algorithm that claims to understand you better than you understand yourself.��
By The Insight Ledger 19 days ago in Psyche
I Tried Living Like It Was 2010 Again — And It Quietly Broke Me
Nostalgia is sneaky. It doesn’t just show you the past; it edits it for you. It cuts out the awkward silences, the cheap shampoo, the bad phone cameras, and leaves you with sunsets, inside jokes, and a version of yourself who always seemed a little lighter.
By The Insight Ledger 19 days ago in Psyche
Promise That You Will Sing About Me
I think about death more than I admit. Not in a dramatic way. Not in the kind of way that begs for attention. More like a quiet question that keeps tapping on the glass when everything else goes silent. Usually at night. When the lights shut off. When the world finally stops asking things of me.
By Jonathan19 days ago in Psyche
The Psychology of Feeling “Not Enough
The Morning She Stopped Being Enough Sarah stood in front of her closet at 6:47 a.m., paralyzed by a decision that shouldn't have mattered.
By Ameer Moavia20 days ago in Psyche
The Hidden Psychology of Why We Procrastinate (and How to Stop)
The Night Before Everything Falls Apart It was 11:47 p.m., and Daniel was finally opening the document. The proposal was due at 9 a.m. A proposal he'd had six weeks to write. Six weeks that had somehow evaporated into this single desperate night, his laptop screen glowing in the darkness like an accusation.
By Ameer Moavia20 days ago in Psyche
The Weight of White
Arthur couldn't sleep. Again. It wasn't the usual restlessness, the buzzing hum of late-night traffic, or the faint wail of a distant siren. Tonight, it was a profound, suffocating quiet. He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, the cold floorboards biting his bare feet. He rubbed his face, the stubble coarse against his palm. Something felt… different. He padded to the window, pulled back the heavy curtain.
By HAADI20 days ago in Psyche
In Case of Emergency . Content Warning.
Fran was 45, a single mom of 3 and exhausted. It seemed like every time she would try to find a way to get out of some shit, well ya know the saying, “if it ain’t one thing it’s another.” She was working double overtime at the hospital, braiding hair out her kitchen, delivery driving and selling feet pics online. To anybody else that would seem like a hustlers mentality, but in all actuality, this was Fran pushing herself way past the limits of being a hustler, she felt like a slave to her own circumstances. Tommy was a great husband, at first. He was always working and helping with the kids, and then one day he just…didn’t. He didn’t go to work, he didn’t help with the kids, he just left. Now granted everything wasn’t all sunshine and roses, but he’ll whose relationship is? And it wasn’t her fault. That last baby, Fran told Tommy, I see things getting a little more difficult coming soon, I can’t be on my feet all the time like I was with last pregnancy, I have to take a maternity leave. He acted like he was ok with that, but his actions proved otherwise. Legally they are still married, but he’s been gone for 3 years, Fran started out being worried and concerned and heartbroken. She posted missing signs everywhere in the neighborhood. She rallied up friends and family member and neighbors and started a search party after the police wouldnt help. Saying that “Tommy is a grown man, maybe he just needed sometime alone..”. They never found not one clue to lead to his whereabouts , alive or dead. Now she was sitting at the kitchen table, looking over bills, thinking to herself, “I hope the motherfucker is dead..at least we’d get some insurance money.” She chuckled to herself a little bit, but then, that thought really started to run around in her head. “If he is dead, wouldn’t you have been notified by now? That motherfucker ain’t dead, he’s laid up with some hooker with no kids…but he loves the kids. Wouldn’t he come back for the kids? Why would he just leave and not even say anything? We could’ve talked about it, we could’ve worked it out…unless..” Her swirled with thoughts, good and bad. She sat there staring off into space..Fran’s chest tightened. Her eyes drifted to the junk drawer—past the rubber bands, the takeout menus, the old hospital badge she hadn’t worn since the night everything went sideways. The night Tommy showed up at her job unannounced. The night security escorted someone out in handcuffs, and she signed paperwork she never read because she was eight months pregnant, swollen, exhausted, and just wanted to go home.
By Crystal Cane20 days ago in Psyche
I Was Taught to Earn Love. AI-Generated.
I was taught to earn love the way others were taught to speak. Fluently. Carefully. With consequences for mistakes. Love arrived when report cards were clean and voices were quiet. When my shoes were lined up by the door, and my opinions stayed folded inside my chest. Approval didn’t come wrapped in warmth. It came as a nod, a softened tone, a temporary peace. Silence after failure said more than words ever could. No one needed to say, “You only matter if you do this right.” The message was embedded in every glance, every sigh, every delayed smile.
By luna hart20 days ago in Psyche