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How does one close friendship, been through so much laughter and tears, turn into one with such hatred and negativity

But sometimes i looked at the pictures and wish for things to go back to the way we were.

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How open people are with feedback nowadays?

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My mum was taken away by cancer back in 2023 and everyone in the family sees my dad as the grieving husband who lost his beloved wife. But no one saw the monster that made me have to put my life on the line to protect my mum...

I lost the very person who made me force myself to build up the courage to not end myself and now, I have to carry the weight of being the glue that holds the monster's life and wellbeing together...

I have lost my childhood to DV, then lost my pillar in life and now whatever he feels is my problem too.. When will my life ever be mine to live for?

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Someone I considered a close friend—who I had trusted with personal details about my challenges around boundaries and space—surprised me on a recent trip. I (single female) had made it clear early on that I preferred to have my own room, though I was fine sharing a bathroom. Later, she asked again if I’d consider sharing a room with a single male friend, which left me feeling unsettled. I wasn’t sure why that seemed like a reasonable arrangement to her, especially knowing my comfort levels. I had hoped she’d suggest something more considerate, like the women rooming together. Since then, I’ve found it hard to feel safe sharing personal things with her, and I haven’t been able to treat her the way I used to.

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Click the green + button below to submit

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i want a best friend but i struggle to connect with people. starting from square one with someone is just so scary.

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I post vague, cryptic things online in a desperate bid for attention and validation and spiral when nobody replies.

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You wrote a post about “if you’re unhappy, change it”, if money grew on trees or I got a windfall winning, sure. How do I cut contact without being able to ensure a stable exit? Easy to say.

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Why are people in S*******e so inconsiderate?

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I’m miserable where I am in this country. I’m still trying to save more to find a way out but my bitterness and mental state is at its wits end already.

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Does it ever get better

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I shared my vulnerability with someone I thought I could trust. They shot back with judgment and condescension.

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have you ever put yourself in my shoes?

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I'm in love with my friend. I would leave my current partner for her.

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Broke up with him years ago but I still misses him till then.

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Let’s begin where it always begins—with me.

I’ve never said this before: "Sometimes I wonder if I'm too much—and not enough at the same time."

I fear that my depth and hunger for meaning scare people away. While my softness, need for tenderness, and desire to be held make me seem weak.

Even in spaces meant to be safe, I shape-shift. There’s a part of me that doesn’t believe people will stay if they see the whole of me—the chaotic thoughts, the rawness, the shadow, the ache.

I fear being misunderstood more than being unloved. My brilliance has felt like a burden because it sets me apart. And part of me just wants to belong.

Even as I guide others, I sometimes feel like a fraud. I'm still figuring it out. Still healing. Still wondering if the love I long for exists.

And there’s that small voice that whispers: "What if I'm hard to love?" There’s a part of me that doesn’t believe I’m worthy of being fully loved as I am.

But I’m learning that none of this makes me broken. It makes me human. I’m learning to keep tending to my own depth. Not as a waiting room for love, but as a temple where my wholeness already lives.

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New year, same you—but better. Growth isn’t about becoming someone else; it’s about evolving into your best self. (4)

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There are things we carry that never made it into words. Messages we never sent. Thoughts we swallowed.

Maybe they weren’t ready to be spoken. Maybe there was no one to hear them. But they still live in us—in the body, in the silence between conversations.

This is a place for all of that. A safe space for the things we never said.

You can share anonymously—a sentence, a quote, a memory, a voice note, a whisper. There’s no format or rules. No right way to do this.

Some submissions may be posted on Instagram, or used in future pop-ups and exhibits anonymously.