Childhood
Religious Affiliations
The air was so warm I could feel my pores consuming the warmth and sweat began to pour out like mist. “It’s so hot” said my little nephew as I was playing with him. I decided to roll down the window for us. As I took a look around to see how the other people around me were taking in the heat. A lady with bright brown eyes approaches the car as we are sitting in the steamy parking lot.
By Cerina Galvan13 days ago in Confessions
The Gaddafi Model Revisited: Is Iran the Next Target in a Global Power Strategy?
The Gaddafi Model Revisited: Is Iran the Next Target in a Global Power Strategy? In recent geopolitical debates, a controversial phrase has resurfaced: the “Gaddafi Model.” Originally linked to Libya’s decision in the early 2000s to dismantle its weapons of mass destruction programs, the model is now increasingly referenced in discussions about Iran. The implication is clear—intense pressure, isolation, and forced dismantling of strategic capabilities may once again be used as tools of regime control. As tensions rise in the Middle East, the question is no longer theoretical: could Iran be facing a similar fate, and what role do regional powers like Pakistan play in this unfolding strategy?
By Wings of Time 14 days ago in Confessions
The Family Curse — Or So We Thought
The First Time I Sensed Spirit In the summer of 1975, my aunt Jane began unraveling — or so everyone said. She heard voices, answered them, predicted things that later came true, and spoke of things no one else could see. Fear swallowed her life. She was diagnosed with schizophrenia; and admitted to a psychiatric hospital in her early twenties.
By Debbie's Reflection14 days ago in Confessions
Survived a Life That Tried to Break Me. Content Warning.
Content Warning: This story discusses forced marriage, abuse, and psychological trauma. I want to confess so that I can finally find peace. I feel invisible. This feeling has haunted me since childhood. I have always felt like nothing, even though I grew up in a conservative family where they believed they were teaching me values and principles. In reality, being a girl meant oppression and control. What they called “discipline” was slowly destroying me from the inside. This was the worst feeling I have ever experienced. I wanted to escape my mother’s cruel hell by any means necessary. Yes, she was cruel and heartless. Her cruelty came from her fear of my father, but I understood this far too late. I never understood why she was so afraid or so excessively strict. I suffered in silence, blaming her because I never felt her affection. The worst thing she did was marrying me off at a very young age. It was an injustice, an injustice to a teenage girl who knew nothing about marriage. I couldn’t refuse. I couldn’t even speak. My mother slapped me and threatened me until I accepted without saying a word. Yes, I married a man much older than me , a man the same age as my father. I could never love him. I could never be his wife. I was innocent, naïve, and unprepared, and he mocked me and treated me cruelly. I hate him deeply.
By Midnight Lines14 days ago in Confessions
I still text my dad's phone when life gets tough.
My dad's phone number is still saved in my contacts. I've never deleted it. I don't think I ever will. At first it was an accident. After he died, the idea of removing his name felt so final, like erasing evidence that he was ever here. So I let it go. His contact photo still shows him squinting into the sun, smiling like he didn't know how to take a serious picture.
By Echoes of Life15 days ago in Confessions
Blessed 33. Top Story - February 2026.
So I woke up on the morning of February 5, 2026 and guess what and you know what I realized? It’s my 33rd birthday. Do you know what that means? Yes, technically I’m getting old, but what I couldn’t have guessed was this would be one of the best days of my life.
By Joe Patterson18 days ago in Confessions
Silent Weigh
There was once a boy who loved his father more than anything. He grew up surrounded by both his parents, feeling the warmth of a home that, for a while, felt, whole. But life changed too soon. When he was only eight years old, his father took his own life, leaving behind a silence that the boy never truly understood, but always carried.
By Lydia martinez19 days ago in Confessions
My Obsessive Father. Content Warning.
Let me go. Leave me alone. I don't want to do that and many more sentences like these that have ruled my life. This going to be a story about how I cut the cord between a father that, I want to say was but is still obsessed with me.
By Ella Loftus19 days ago in Confessions
