Make the private public. Tell us a secret in 20 words or less.

Even when you ate fun com

I pretend that I don't care, but I am so hurt an ex-coworker who I thought was my friend won't return my emails.

I've been hit by my father/mother, I've been raped by my ex boyfriend, I've had an abortion, I've attempted suicide four times beginning at the age of ten....... Was forced to be in a physc ward for a week at the age of eighteen.

I feel like it's all my fault.
I'm ashamed.
It hurts.

........I'm only nineteen

im sick of feeling like my problems are insignificant. maybe they arent as bad as most ppl's but they're mine.

now im here writing down my hurt because u think it's "the usual stuff". if it was "usual" i wudn't have called. and u know for a fact that i don't tell anyone else. and u know u would hate it if i did.

on top of that, now u're hurt because i sounded mad and said we'll talk later. i dont want to annoy u with what u think is insignificant. but i dont want to comfort u either. cant i be the one being comforted right now?

I don't know what to do anymore. I love him...at least I think I love him, but how can you tell?

mr heretic is kruno

I hate sex w/ human beings. A vibrator is waaaaaaay better!!!!!

I lie so much I've lost the thread of my real life.

M192, break free, freak brake, break free!
You can live absolutely any way you want to! you really can. especially you!
a little yoga, a little dance, a little carefreeness and you can be whoever you want to be.

im in love with my english professor

I should have been there at 8:00. It was Friday night and I was 12 and even though we were best friends in fifth grade, I could think of a thousand things I would rather do than hang out with him now. He still played with his Death Star and X-Wings. He watched Dr. Who. I told him I would be over at 8:00 knowing I wouldn’t. And when the phone rang at 8:17, I had my excuse: I’m watching movies with my dad. But it wasn’t him. I had never heard a mother cry. He was unconscious and being rushed to the hospital. He had hanged himself with a dog leash.

Is this for real?

If so, the point is . . . what, exactly? Or even inexactly?

And whose idea was it?

I am totally unrepentant in my love and I shall always be so. I believe that a true soul union comes once in a life-time and I would never have let it slip, but he did because he lacked faith and courage - not because he does not love me - I know this. I love him, but I hate him for being a coward and a whipping boy. It's strange how you think you know someone so very well and they become this totally different person; a stranger suddenly. Only he knows my Song of Solomon. Only he could draw it forth from me. I don't even know if that matters to him or if he knows or if he knew, would he care? I said his name, just as he liked it.

Most of my friends, co-workers, family and relatives would be shocked to learn the fact and depth of my feelings of depression, isolation, alienation, apathy, immobility, helplessness and self-loathing.

We had our first date last night. He is 40, well-mannered and cynical.

He took me from behind this morning.
Now, I am at work swooning in the bliss of gentle objectification.

I succumb easily to depressive lassitude.

I'm worried about telling my best friend I'm going to Burning Man with someone else, someone who is okay with being uncomfortable in pursuit of ecstasy and communion.

I wish my parents would die instead of drinking themselves to a slow death. When the phone rings at night I am always hoping it is "the call" from police letting me know it's finally happened (and that, hopefully, they haven't taken anybody else with them.)

I love my husband but I hate having sex with him.

Now I understand why you can't keep good friends for more than a few months. Have a nice life.

I am uncomfortable with my femininity. Being a woman makes me feel like an object for men and their fantasy. I do not like women, I prefer the company of a man, but the conflict arises when all my male friends end up in my bed. Then I lose credibility. I feel like a whore, but I enjoy the affection without attachment with men I admire.

i am in love with my husband's ex-wife though i have never met her. i horde the snippets of memory he leaves sloppily tucked away which pertain to her life. i am obsessed with her image. i have seen her naked and scowling, i have read her diaries, i feel like a weirdo. i hope i am not!

I would never reveal a secret online. There are watchers.

I'm 37 years old and everyone thinks I've had sex. But nobody thinks I'm gay including at some times me. I will disavow this confession as soon as I finish writing it. I hate being alone but don't know how to live any other way.

it's sad that those of us who come to tell a "secret" wind up being the ones who are ashamed when it should be the other way around. my secret is that i hate those people for making me feel that way and that hatred and i don't want to hate anyone.

i have always loved women. sensually, whole-heart, something deep as recognition. i've called myself queer since i was 15. the secret? so much shame, sadness.

Love and hate are always secret and secretly interchangeable.

i am utterly in-love with him and he knows it and there is nothing that he nor i can do about it, nor see each other. Our love is verboten, unmentionable, unallowed, and yet - i feel the pulse of it daily. I feel it parse the miles between us. I should not be, but I am. I should not, but I do. If we could be, we would be. We spoke of running away, leaving everything behind. I am never kooky, but I swear I know when he wakes up in the morning. He knows when I put on my perfume. Uncanny telepathy parses the miles yet we will never be together for so many tied-up reasons and yet I have never loved anyone as much as I love him. Nor will I. I find him in sacred places. I seek him in my dreams and sometimes, he comes.

I am ashamed at the kind of leaders my country, Nigeria is producing. They are corrupt to their blood.

I was sexually violated by two relatives when I was a child. People still don't "get" incest, sexual abuse or violence. Silence is the cancer, the tool pedophiles swear on. My secret is that I thrive! Despite them, despite the "silent" majority - their allies.