Anonymous

It was all going well . . . until the SWAT team arrived.

I wasn’t thankful. I was too negative. I wasn’t doing enough. When I found out my mood swings weren't my fault, that I had bipolar disorder, I cried.

I had grown to learn that fighting=love. I was dead wrong.

That’s part of the problem, I think. I keep waiting for my sexual partners to figure out how to bring me to orgasm.

This article originally appeared on Mamamia

What do you do when you have no choice on how you get to work?

What's more dangerous — meeting people on the Internet or meeting people in real life?

I was married to my own child for 21 years. I thought I was marrying my high school sweetheart, but I was actually becoming my husband's mother.

My work at Planned Parenthood can be exhausting, and stressful, but I love it more every day. We are providing necessary care and a safe space.

Yelling. Throwing things. Name-calling. The only thing that holds me back from calling my teenager’s behavior abuse is that they are my child.