u/RetroIogurt1918

A few weeks ago, a memory from years ago randomly resurfaced. I think it happened around 12th grade when I was 17. I kinda but not entirely might or might not have witnessed one of my classmates doing something very disgusting involving a girl, a significantly younger girl. But here's the thing, I'm not sure who exactly did it, sometimes my mind remembers one classmate but then other times I wonder if it might have been another. And even what they actually did is blurry, my mind is cycling 2 options and both horrify me (though one of them more than the other). I know I was nearby , but I don't rememeber actually seeing it, I just remember the affected girl yelling "Ew!" and then another classmate saying that this other guy had done one of the two things I'm thinking about. .

Yes, what I remember for sure happened is this: one of the two classmates I'm suspecting called for that girl to come to him and I and the others who were with him thought he wanted to prank her. The girl came with one or two friends and then the classmate did...something that I didn't see and the girl yelled "Ew!" and one of her friends called for a teacher to come and we walked away. I don't remember how the affected girl or her friends looked like, or even which one of the two classmates who I'm thinking about might have done it. Nobody who was present reported anything, and I didn't see if a teacher did actually arrive where the girls were. If they did, they didn't report anything either.

I'm not going to say here what the 2 things that I'm thinking one of my classmates might have done were, but if it turns out this isn't a false memory and either of them actually happened...I feel I forfeited my right to live for being a coward who didn't report it. There's also the possibility this is a false memory and the prank that made the girl go "Ew!" was gross but nothing too bad and this is all just me feeding my OCD which for years has been trying to convince me I'm a horrible person who's better off dead. Please help.

I didn't want anyone to get hurt. I just wanted to be a woman living in peace. But it's obvious I failed. I'm in a discord server where most are adults but there's also a couple minors and even though most of the time we try to be safe, sometimes when we have to bring up something mature we make sure the kids aren't around to hear it or we censor it. But I've been watching documentaries about online predators and I've been reading old messages from the server and several of my friends did post jokes that I don't think are right to share in a place where there's minors. Perhaps the kid isn't traumatized today but will be in a few years if they remember. I just want everyone to be safe, but what if the damage has already been done? In that case I doubt there is much to be done but to put an end to all of this. Last night I started making plans, but still part of my thoughts repeated to me a quote I read somewhere once "When there is life, there is hope". But deep down I know there isn't. My old bullies told me years ago I was scum who would fuck up badly and deserved to die, and it seems I finally have the situation that proves them right. And if it's not this, it'll be something else. I failed. I'm sorry. 

It's been 2 years since I cut ties with him. Ever since then I've only briefly crossed him on the street or spotted him in the distance a few times but we have not personally interacted at all since summer of 2024, not even a simple "hi.".

We're both 22 as of me writing this. We used to be very close since Elementary School. I could spend hours recounting unforgettable childhood memories involving him. Thinking about these moments compared to how we ended up eats me alive like you can't imagine. But anyhow, things started to change around our high school years. The friends I used to hang out with, including him, started bullying me non stop. They called me names like scum, trash, and more horrible names that this subreddit doesn't want me to type, said my life was worthless, that my parents can't stand me, that the best people like me can do is dying....They seriously made me consider ending my life.

But the insults aren't what's been giving me mental breakdowns as of late. He used to do something "as a joke". He used to approach me when I wasn't looking and quickly insert his fingers through my butt for a second and then laugh. I remember it made me uncomfortable but since they claimed everything was "a joke", I tolerated it, because they always said it was my fault I couldn't take jokes whenever I'd complain about insults or stuff like that. But I remember one day in High School when we were 17 I explained in class that he did this and my teacher was really creeped out. This was the first time I really started not liking it. He did it more times all the way until we were 19. It got to the point I developed a reflex when I'd automatically placed a hand to cover my butt whenever he'd get close. But as always, he kept saying he was just joking, everything was a joke.

Whenever I remember this, I start trembling and having a breakdown, part of me is terrified he's going to come for me even if I know that's not gonna happen. (I hope). And part of me is trying to convince my brain this didn't happen, but I remember. Whenever my brain is trying to tell me I'm just overeacting I remember that time I told my High School teacher and his reaction, because that's 100% proof it isn't a false memory. I also remember the butt reflex.

Some friends of mine I've told this to claim this is sexual assault but still part of me cannot accept this, because he would never want to hurt me like that. He was just an edgy teen taking a joke too far, he would never hurt me like that, we were so close. I was in love with him, I never told him this directly but he knew, everyone knew. Part of me also wonders if I also assaulted him on accident because I would also give him surprise when he wouldn't see It coming and hug him. But my friends say surprise hugs aren't remotely the same as inserting his hand in my ass. I admit I did pull a prank on him one time I am not proud of at all, one day while I had just gotten out the shower we were on a video call and I focused the camera on my underpants and pretended I was gonna show him my penis but I didn't. That was gross.

But yeah, very long story short I blocked him after another incident when I just couldn't take it anymore. Before cutting ties for good, he got really mad at me blocking him and claimed "You abuse me and then play the victim." That was one of the last things he said to me and I think about this quote every day. I didn't wanna hurt him, blocking him was not to abuse him. I loved him.

Anyways, lately I've been having nightmares and specifically getting reminded of the hand in my butt thing and every time I freeze in terror and start trembling as if he was there coming for me. My therapist says he no longer has power over me but whenever this happens it feels like it. It feels like he's there. I start spiraling and trying to convince myself that never happened and I'm overeacting but I always have that day with my teacher as the failsave to remember this happened and the reflex. I even insert my own hand through my butt and remember the feeling. I am having breakdowns.

One of the most common arguments I hear from monarchists is that it's good to have the Monarchy as a symbolic and neutral Head of State that can represent and unite the country and be a beacon of stability to keep in check unstable politics and unpopular politicians.

Monarchists argue that in Republics where a Prime Minister and an elected President are from opposing parties, things can be very unstable, unlike in a ceremonial monarchy where the King or Queen cannot participate in politics thus guaranteeing they remain a neutral supervisor to safeguard the democratic process and institutions.

I have no doubt that if a referendum on mantaining or abolishing the monarchy were to take place, the media and politicians and probably corporations too would pour as much resources as they need and more to back the Royals in a massive pro-monarchy campaign that the republican vote simply wouldn't be able to compete with. It's easy to make people scared of change, and they've succesfully conditioned most of the population into accepting the monarchy as an inseparable part of the country and every day life through subtle and not-so-dubtle imagery and symbols that most people don't even counsciously register.

My bet is on the monarchy winning a referendum if it took place right now, and you can bet the royals would cling to it for the rest of time as the perfect excuse to pretend they really do represent the people and to claim their descendants who aren't even born yet deserve to reign fair and square.

I have a monarchist friend and we've debated about the issue of the monarchy multiple times and he always brings up some variation of the argument that suggests that we have some intrinsic proprety that makes our country guaranteed to implode the second we abolished the monarchy.

He's said multiple versions of the same thing including "None of our politicians are trustful enough to be the Head of State that the whole country could accept" , or "the monarchy is simply too engrained into our national counsciousness" or "the process of removing the monarchy would be too much of a hassle that would flood the country with unnecessary polarization, it's not worth it."

But when I point out that there are plenty of republics in Europe, in France, Germany, Austria, Italy, Portugal, Poland, Finland, Ireland etc. I always ask him what do the people from all of those countries have that we do not? And he only gives this vague answer of "their people and their politics are more prepared to handle a republic than us". And like...that makes no sense? What, are we inherently dumber than most europeans? That's honestly straight up anti-patriotic as you're basically suggesting your countrymen are stupider or more incompetent that their smart grown up neighbors who can fuction without a monarch while we're like stupid little children that would mess up the second our dear royal daddy stopped looking after us.

I had a long debate with a relative about where human morality comes from. He insisted that it is objective and that it was given to us by a higher power and that Good and Evil exist objectively as concept separate from human interpretation like divine laws. He argued for this by saying every single human has a concept of morality and a conscience inside of them ever since they're babies that automatically makes us regret bad things we've done. He also pointed out that to claim good and evil are a subjective human construct would essentially mean saying they're meaningless since society can change its moral standards on a whim to justify barbaric atrocities like the crimes against humanity carried out by the Nazis, among others.

My argument was that morality didn't need any divine intervention to be explained. Humans evolved to be social animals and a huge part of that was our brains developing empathy, giving us the ability to not only feel when we're suffering but also aknowledge others are suffering too and feel bad for them. Thanks to our empathy and survival insticts as social animals, our ancestors formed societies that regulated themselves with a set of rules dictating what people should and should not do, because a group where everyone works to keep one another safe is infinitely more succesful at securing their wellbeing and survival than letting people hurt others selfishly without consequences. It's only after prehistoric humans interiorized this way of life that the abstract concepts of Good and Evil formed in their minds.

I did not convince him, he still thinks Good and Evil are divine forces granted to us since humanity's creation. But I am satisfied with and truly believe the argument I presented.

Rationally it makes no sense. But deep down, I have to admit part of me is still afraid. I deleted previous posts because a side of me is still pondering the slightest possibility of it being real and I am extremely afraid of Hell. I know it sounds very stupid but I worry a lot about death and the possible existance of an afterlife and truth be told, occasionally I still think about going back to Christianity even though rationally it makes zero sense to me.

Several Christians I've come across believe that not only adults who reject God and Jesus will go to hell but so will children. They believe that if a child who has been made aware of God and Jesus and yet chooses to "sin" and then dies while still being a kid, God will also send them to Hell to suffer for eternity.

In other words, they truly believe their God is currently torturing countless non-christian children just because in their extremely short life they didn't "love" him enough. And yet they seriously continue to worship this monster as their Saviour and believe the children allegedly being tortured in hell as we speak deserve it. I struggle to wrap my mind around this.

I’ve talked about this with many others, I’ve tried talking about this with my therapist but the thoughts come back, they just keep coming back. I feel like the only way I can get closure from this is to wait for someone to tell me I’m a monster.

We’ll refer to the kid as Z. Z and I were both queer and part of a Discord server that was supposed to be a queer safe space for all ages. I was 19 years old at the time, and Z never told me her exact age and I never asked her, but she did say something that strongly implied she was younger than 16, so I assume they were likely around 14 or 15 years old. 

Z reached out to me in Dms one day wanting to chat, and it became evident she was in an extremely worrying mental state. She made constant suicidal comments, believed her life was worthless, comparing herself to a rotting corpse and thinking that expressing her emotions with other people only led to people pushing her away was impatient to die. She told me she had been bullied in school to the point of receiving death threats and changing schools at least once and in fact was in the process of changing schools once again when we started chatting. In a way I saw part of myself in her, as I too had been bullied and had felt severely depressed around her age, so I felt like it was my duty to help her. 

So over the course of about 3 months we chatted sporadically and I tried to help her realize her worth as a person and get over her suicidal tendencies. When she was changing schools I encouraged her to not bottle up her emotions and be open to school as a new chance of finding new friends and exploring her passions. And she told me that she had done that and had made new friends and gotten into robotics. And I told her it made me super happy to hear that. 

But soon enough she was back to suicidal tendencies, she once said goodbye because she was holding her father’s gun and I tried to make her see she had her whole life ahead of her and to please hold on. A similar situation happened when she told me she refused to eat and had even willingly forced herself to vomit. She told me that her family abused her, that they had a history of drug addiction, made her feel unloved and a burden and that she had tried calling cps in the past and that she was hoping to turn 16 so she could emancipate. I told her to seek therapy or reach out to a trusted adult in her environment like a school teacher that she could talk to even without her family knowing,  if she felt the abuse continued and that waiting until she turned 16 was totally worth it because one day she wouldn’t have to live with her family anymore if she didn’t feel safe with them and that she deserved to live as a beautiful girl or whatever she wanted to (I said that because she was queer). 

Throughout our conversations I thought about how child counselors would talk to comfort a child and would occasionally call her endearing terms like “dear” or “sweetie” and sometimes I’d finish a quote with a heart emoji. Right now in retrospect, I admit calling those things to a teen I had just met sounds kinda creepy and it’s making me feel really nervous, but I swear to God at even though I admit I did care about her and was invested in helping her, at no point did I ever try to establish a sexual or romantic relationship with her, at no point did I ever ask to meet her in person or ask for any pictures nor did I send any pictures to her either. She did send me 2 anime pictures once (well, they were GIFs), one day she asked me how I was doing and I said I was sick that day and she told me she hoped I recovered and sent me a gif of anime girls hugging. I replied with “Aw, Thanks 💖 “ and she said “I ain’t being cute” and I said “You are” but this wasn’t meant to be flirty or anything, it was in reference to the fact I had found that act to be cute as in endearing. And the second image she sent me was a depressing one of an anime girl crying a day she was feeling suicidal again. 
 
But for the last 2 years even though I am sure that I did not intend to groom her for any inappropriate relationship I’ve been obsessed with thinking that I accidentally might have, and that I actually caused Z harm. Why does that keep happening even though I know my intentions were just to help her? For the last 2 years I regularly read our old messages trying to find evidence of me being predatory but over and over I just know that I was just trying to help. But the thoughts don’t stop and I regularly watch Youtube videos of predator hunters and every time I watch this or see cases of online groomers I fear that I am one of those and I start spiraling.

I've already posted this elsewhere, more than once in fact. I just seem to get paranoid about it, then think seriously about it and calm down for a few months only for the thoughts to come back and I start fearing I groomed her again. Even though when I explained this to my therapist and even read her some of the messages she said: "And...what exactly makes you think you did anything wrong?" and I cannot reply because I geniuenly think about it and realize that I did not want to groom her at all, only help her! Maybe I'm getting annoying at this point talking about this over and over, but the thought keeps coming back and precisely because of this I think "if you keep thinking about it, maybe it indicates deep down you know you did something wrong after all." and this terrifies me because then I rationally think about it and calm down and I cannot convince myself I'm a groomer because I geniuenly only wanted to be a mentor/friend and that's it!

I was never a girl. I have spent every single moment of my 22 years on this planet as a boy and a man. I’m working on it with my therapist, but I feel like not only have I wasted 22 years trapped behind a mask, but that the mask will never be removed. I know how I look, and I don’t see this body ever truly passing as the body of a woman no matter what I do to it. 

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Ever since I was little I’ve had a very active imagination, I can recall imagining myself or self-inserts of myself having fantastical adventures in fantasy worlds at least since Elementary School and I’ve never stopped doing it, keeping it as a complete secret from everyone else. Already when I was little, while some of these stories had me as a boy reflecting how I was in real life, I remember the ones I enjoyed the most had me undergo some kind of transformation that would make me into a girl. Sometimes a fairy godmother would magically change me. There were also ones where there was no magical transformation of my body, but I was in a castle where I was allowed to dress like a princess and be treated as a girl and just have fun playing around the castle and its gardens like that. 

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Ugh…I’m already cringing reading what I’ve typed so far. Anyways, for years I immersed myself in these fantasies every night after going to bed until I fell asleep. No one else knew anything about these. Occasionally they would devolve into prayers where I would pray to God in bed tearing up, not for the actual fantasy world to be real but for me to wake up as a girl.  And…I admit that they’ve never stopped. I still have these fantasies, in fact I even dare to say they’ve only become more stronger over the years as I think about the childhood as a girl that I lost and will never get to have and about how I should also probably be giving up on an adulthood as a woman too because I will never pass. And they are not just fantasies playing in my head anymore, I’ve actually started writing them. I’ve actually written multiple pages of these fantastical stories of myself as a girl that I used to dream about, undergoing magical fairytale adventures. 

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They’re all extremely cringe, I’m talking dreamlike fairy worlds with actual fairies and spells and my self-insert as a girl going on endless playing and singing and childlike fun, but…I don’t know how to explain it but only for a second they almost make me forget I’m a stupid ass grown adult stuck in a male body that I hate and immerse myself in what could’ve been. 

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There’s even one that started as yet another one of these dreamlike self-inserts just to mourn my lost childhood, but I um…I started fleshing it out and adding side characters there’s an actual conflict happening now with multiple character arcs and lore. I’ve written like 20 pages of this and I have no idea where I want to take it but it’s…fun, like even more fun than simply writing about my girl self-insert playing blissfully with nothing else happening. I dunno. 

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So yeah I dunno what I should do. I’m thinking about telling my therapist about these stories, I worry this is extremely weird for a grown adult to do and I feel like there’s something wrong going on, I’d die of embarrassment if anyone were to read what I’ve written but it genuinely feels good to mourn my lost childhood like that, brings me back to a simpler time.

Edit: I'm really thankful for all the replies. I geniuenly wasn't aware it was that common of a thing to do.

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I was never a girl. I have spent every single moment of my 22 years on this planet as a boy and a man. I’m working on it with my therapist, but I feel like not only have I wasted 22 years trapped behind a mask, but that the mask will never be removed. I know how I look, and I don’t see this body ever truly passing as the body of a woman no matter what I do to it. 

Ever since I was little I’ve had a very active imagination, I can recall imagining myself or self-inserts of myself having fantastical adventures in fantasy worlds at least since Elementary School and I’ve never stopped doing it, keeping it as a complete secret from everyone else. Already when I was little, while some of these stories had me as a boy reflecting how I was in real life, I remember the ones I enjoyed the most had me undergo some kind of transformation that would make me into a girl. Sometimes a fairy godmother would magically change me. There were also ones where there was no magical transformation of my body, but I was in a castle where I was allowed to dress like a princess and be treated as a girl and just have fun playing around the castle and its gardens like that. 

Ugh…I’m already cringing reading what I’ve typed so far. Anyways, for years I immersed myself in these fantasies every night after going to bed until I fell asleep. No one else knew anything about these. Occasionally they would devolve into prayers where I would pray to God in bed tearing up, not for the actual fantasy world to be real but for me to wake up as a girl.  And…I admit that they’ve never stopped. I still have these fantasies, in fact I even dare to say they’ve only become more stronger over the years as I think about the childhood as a girl that I lost and will never get to have and about how I should also probably be giving up on an adulthood as a woman too because I will never pass. And they are not just fantasies playing in my head anymore, I’ve actually started writing them. I’ve actually written multiple pages of these fantastical stories of myself as a girl that I used to dream about, undergoing magical fairytale adventures. 

They’re all extremely cringe, I’m talking dreamlike fairy worlds with actual fairies and spells and my self-insert as a girl going on endless playing and singing and childlike fun, but…I don’t know how to explain it but only for a second they almost make me forget I’m a stupid ass grown adult stuck in a male body that I hate and immerse myself in what could’ve been. 

There’s even one that started as yet another one of these dreamlike self-inserts just to mourn my lost childhood, but I um…I started fleshing it out and adding side characters there’s an actual conflict happening now with multiple character arcs and lore. I’ve written like 20 pages of this and I have no idea where I want to take it but it’s…fun, like even more fun than simply writing about my girl self-insert playing blissfully with nothing else happening. I dunno. 

So yeah I dunno what I should do. I’m thinking about telling my therapist about these stories, I worry this is extremely weird for a grown adult to do and I feel like there’s something wrong going on, I’d die of embarrassment if anyone were to read what I’ve written but it genuinely feels good to mourn my lost childhood like that, brings me back to a simpler time.

I am trans, but I do not pass. I haven't done anything yet to transition, I still present masculine to everyone in my life. The only ones who know are my Mom and Dad and my therapist. But years ago, when I was a child, my Grandmother was the person that affirmed my gender identity the most even if neither I nor her really knew I was trans back then. She would let me wear girly clothing while I was home alone with her as a kid and I adored it.

I don't think she ever saw it as signs of her grandkid being trans, from the way I remember her reacting she most likely saw it as me playing dress-up like a game and she just allowed me to play. She'd help me dress up when I asked her to and I liked to spend a long time looking at myself in the mirror or simply hanging out and playing around the house and garden while dressed like that and my Grandma would just...be there and allow it without issue.

I remember adoring these moments with my Grandma back then, when I was home alone with her and went to her wardrobe and wore those clothes I remember wishing time would just freeze so I could stay with my Grandma like that forever, free of judgement. I had a very active imagination and would imagine her as a Fairy in a magical world where she'd turn me into a girl.

But over a decade has passed, I properly found out I was trans when I turned 16, I am now 22 and still haven't transitioned. I am scared, I am very very scared. And I can't stop reminiscing about that time with my Grandma. I can't stop wishing that it had been more than that, that I could've worn those clothes and have been a girl outside my Grandma's house, in my daily life. But that never happened, I lost my childhood and adolescence as a girl.

And what I'm about to say now is really, really embarassing: so ever since I used to do that with my Grandma I've... never stopped fantasizing about it, about me being a girl in a magical world where my Grandma is a fairy. And for years I've written pages upon pages of fantastical stories starring me as a girl and my Grandma as a Fairy in a magical world where I'm a girl and there's lots of wild whimsy magic shit and we play and sing and It is very cringe. I've never shown it to anyone. I have no idea what I'd do if someone were to read these, I'd probably start crying out of embarassement because I don't think it's normal for a 22 year old to write these. But whenever I do, it feels like accomplishing that childhood dream I had at my Grandma's house all those years ago of freezing that moment, just me and my Grandma in a world where I can be myself. Oh, God I'm just reading what I've typed here so far and I'm dying of cringe.

Sorry, I just wanted to know if there's something wrong with me. My therapist knows about it but only partially. She knows about my childhood experience with my Grandma and my fantasies but she still doesn't know I write stories just for myself about them for fun.

So basically the most elaborate answer I've gotten to the Epicurian Paradox ranging from random Christians online to people I've talked to in real life boils down to:

"God does want to erease evil and he is actively doing it. But you don't see it in the short term because he is busy with a Grand Plan that you cannot comprehend which will eventually defeat all evil for good on a scale that makes the evils you percieve on Earth seem insignificant. That's why he entrusts humans to deal with those temporary earthly evils through free will and faith while he's busy with the Grand Plan."

To altruistically sacrifice yourself for others means accepting to lose something and worsen your condition so others can have it better off at your expense, and to do it without asking anything from them in return.

But what exactly did Jesus lose by "sacrificing" himself for our supposed sins? Not his human life, because he ressucitated on the third day. His condition certainly didn't worsen as he was able to ascend to heaven and rule humanity for the rest of time alongside God. And he did not do it altruistically, as he already knew beforehand he would ressucitate, purpousely putting himself in harm's way just so the Romans could kill him and he could then come back and demand constant praise from his followers as their eternal king. He lost nothing all the while condemning his followers that he supposedly saved to centuries of persecution, wars and suffering in his name.

This so-called "sacrifice" is comparable to a guy burning down his whole town and then purposely burning down his own house as well just so he could tell his neighbors "Look guys! I'm homeless now too! Don't you see what I've sacrificed to share your pain?" but then it turns out that before burning down his house he had already bought a luxurious mansion far away in an exclusive and infinitely wealthier neighborhood that he then moved to while leaving his old neighbors with their houses still burning.

I’ve talked about this with many others, I’ve tried talking about this with my therapist but the thoughts come back, they just keep coming back. I feel like the only way I can get closure from this is to wait for someone to tell me I’m a monster.

We’ll refer to the kid as Z. Z and I were both queer and part of a Discord server that was supposed to be a queer safe space for all ages. I was 19 years old at the time, and Z never told me her exact age and I never asked her, but she did say something that strongly implied she was younger than 16, so I assume they were likely around 14 or 15 years old. 

Z reached out to me in Dms one day wanting to chat, and it became evident she was in an extremely worrying mental state. She made constant suicidal comments, believed her life was worthless, comparing herself to a rotting corpse and thinking that expressing her emotions with other people only led to people pushing her away was impatient to die. She told me she had been bullied in school to the point of receiving death threats and changing schools at least once and in fact was in the process of changing schools once again when we started chatting. In a way I saw part of myself in her, as I too had been bullied and had felt severely depressed around her age, so I felt like it was my duty to help her. 

So over the course of about 3 months we chatted sporadically and I tried to help her realize her worth as a person and get over her suicidal tendencies. When she was changing schools I encouraged her to not bottle up her emotions and be open to school as a new chance of finding new friends and exploring her passions. And she told me that she had done that and had made new friends and gotten into robotics. And I told her it made me super happy to hear that. 

But soon enough she was back to suicidal tendencies, she once said goodbye because she was holding her father’s gun and I tried to make her see she had her whole life ahead of her and to please hold on. A similar situation happened when she told me she refused to eat and had even willingly forced herself to vomit. She told me that her family abused her, that they had a history of drug addiction, made her feel unloved and a burden and that she had tried calling cps in the past and that she was hoping to turn 16 so she could emancipate. I told her to seek therapy or reach out to a trusted adult in her environment like a school teacher that she could talk to even without her family knowing,  if she felt the abuse continued and that waiting until she turned 16 was totally worth it because one day she wouldn’t have to live with her family anymore if she didn’t feel safe with them and that she deserved to live as a beautiful girl or whatever she wanted to (I said that because she was queer). 

Throughout our conversations I thought about how child counselors would talk to comfort a child and would occasionally call her endearing terms like “dear” or “sweetie” and sometimes I’d finish a quote with a heart emoji. Right now in retrospect, I admit calling those things to a teen I had just met sounds kinda creepy and it’s making me feel really nervous, but I swear to God at even though I admit I did care about her and was invested in helping her, at no point did I ever try to establish a sexual or romantic relationship with her, at no point did I ever ask to meet her in person or ask for any pictures nor did I send any pictures to her either. She did send me 2 anime pictures once (well, they were GIFs), one day she asked me how I was doing and I said I was sick that day and she told me she hoped I recovered and sent me a gif of anime girls hugging. I replied with “Aw, Thanks 💖 “ and she said “I ain’t being cute” and I said “You are” but this wasn’t meant to be flirty or anything, it was in reference to the fact I had found that act to be cute as in sweet or kind. And the second image she sent me was a depressing one of an anime girl crying a day she was feeling suicidal again. 
 
But for the last 2 years even though I am sure that I did not intend to groom her for any inappropriate relationship I’ve been obsessed with thinking that I accidentally might have, and that I actually caused Z harm. Why does that keep happening even though I know my intentions were just to help her? For the last 2 years I regularly read our old messages trying to find evidence of me being predatory but over and over I just know that I was just trying to help. But the thoughts don’t stop and I regularly watch Youtube videos of predator hunters and every time I watch this or see cases of online groomers I fear that I am one of those and I start spiraling. And just yesterday right after watching Youtube videos of predator hunters I was once again reading our old conversations fearing the worst like always and my stupid self while scrolling accidentally tapped on a message and caused a 💖  reaction on that message! I deleted it instantly but I started hyperventilating because what if she gets sent a notification? I am once again hyperventilating. I swear to God I just wanted to help her, but now it’s me asking people for help, how fucking ironic! I feel like my therapist doesn’t understand because when I told her about this she asked “And…why do you feel that you did anything wrong?” and I didn’t know what to say! 

I also talked about it with friends and so far they’ve all said the same as my therapist. So then why? Why do I keep having these thoughts? It’s been eating me alive for the last 2 years! And now with what I did yesterday with the accidental 💖 reaction I’ve never felt worse! I guess I deserve it for continuing to torment myself reading our old conversations.

I’ve talked about this with many others, I’ve tried talking about this with my therapist but the thoughts come back, they just keep coming back. I feel like the only way I can get closure from this is to wait for someone to tell me I’m a monster.

We’ll refer to the kid as Z. Z and I were both queer and part of a Discord server that was supposed to be a queer safe space for all ages. I was 19 years old at the time, and Z never told me her exact age and I never asked her, but she did say something that strongly implied she was younger than 16, so I assume they were likely around 14 or 15 years old. 

Z reached out to me in Dms one day wanting to chat, and it became evident she was in an extremely worrying mental state. She made constant suicidal comments, believed her life was worthless, comparing herself to a rotting corpse and thinking that expressing her emotions with other people only led to people pushing her away and was impatient to die. She told me she had been bullied in school to the point of receiving death threats and changing schools at least once and in fact was in the process of changing schools once again when we started chatting. In a way I saw part of myself in her, as I too had been bullied and had felt severely depressed around her age, so I felt like it was my duty to help her. 

So over the course of about 3 months we chatted sporadically and I tried to help her realize her worth as a person and get over her suicidal tendencies. When she was changing schools I encouraged her to not bottle up her emotions and be open to school as a new chance of finding new friends and exploring her passions. And she told me that she had done that and had made new friends and gotten into robotics. And I told her it made me super happy to hear that. 

But soon enough she was back to suicidal tendencies, she once said goodbye because she was holding her father’s gun and I tried to make her see she had her whole life ahead of her and to please hold on. A similar situation happened when she told me she refused to eat and had even willingly forced herself to vomit. She told me that her family abused her, that they had a history of drug addiction, made her feel unloved and a burden and that she had tried calling cps in the past and that she was hoping to turn 16 so she could emancipate. I told her to seek therapy or reach out to a trusted adult in her environment like a school teacher that she could talk to even without her family knowing,  if she felt the abuse continued and that waiting until she turned 16 was totally worth it because one day she wouldn’t have to live with her family anymore if she didn’t feel safe with them and that she deserved to live as a beautiful girl or whatever she wanted to (I said that because she was queer). 

Throughout our conversations I thought about how child counselors would talk to comfort a child and would occasionally call her endearing terms like “dear” or “sweetie” and sometimes I’d finish a quote with a heart emoji. Right now in retrospect, I admit calling those things to a teen I had just met sounds kinda creepy and it’s making me feel really nervous, but I swear to God that even though I admit I did care about her and was invested in helping her, at no point did I ever try to establish a sexual or romantic relationship with her, at no point did I ever ask to meet her in person or ask for any pictures nor did I send any pictures to her either. She did send me 2 anime pictures once (well, they were GIFs), one day she asked me how I was doing and I said I was sick that day and she told me she hoped I recovered and sent me a gif of anime girls hugging. I replied with “Aw, Thanks 💖 “ and she said “I ain’t being cute” and I said “You are” but this wasn’t meant to be flirty or anything, it was in reference to the fact I had found that act to be cute as in sweet or kind. And the second image she sent me was a depressing one of an anime girl crying a day she was feeling suicidal again. 
 
But for the last 2 years even though I am sure that I did not intend to groom her for any inappropriate relationship I’ve been obsessed with thinking that I accidentally might have, and that I actually caused Z harm. Why does that keep happening even though I know my intentions were just to help her? For the last 2 years I regularly read our old messages trying to find evidence of me being predatory but over and over I just know that I was just trying to help. But the thoughts don’t stop and I regularly watch Youtube videos of predator hunters and every time I watch this or see cases of online groomers I fear that I am one of those and I start spiraling. And just yesterday I was once again reading our old conversations and my stupid self while scrolling accidentally tapped on a message and caused a 💖  reaction on that message! I deleted it instantly but I started hyperventilating because what if she gets sent a notification? I am once again hyperventilating. I swear to God I just wanted to help her, but now it’s me asking people for help, how ironic! I feel like my therapist doesn’t understand because when I told her about this she asked “And…why do you feel that you did anything wrong?” and I didn’t know what to say! 

I also talked about it with friends and so far they’ve all said the same as my therapist. So then why? Why do I keep having these thoughts? It’s been eating me alive for the last 2 years! And now with what I did yesterday with the accidental 💖 reaction I’ve never felt worse! I guess I deserve it for continuing to torment myself reading our old conversations.