r/stories

I don't know what's wrong with me

I’m a woman who is almost 30, and I’ve never been married or even had a boyfriend. I’m a virgin. To be honest, I’ve always focused more on my own life, my studies, and the hobbies I enjoy, like gaming, rather than thinking about marriage.

If I’m being completely honest, I’ve never really had any desire at any point in my life to get married, be in a relationship, or have children. When I saw my friends and cousins constantly looking for a partner, talking about marriage, and checking out guys, I never really understood it or felt the same way. But deep down, I would sometimes ask myself, “Why don’t I have any interest or feelings toward these things? Is there something wrong with me?”

I should also mention that I’m not gay, and I don’t feel emotionally or sexually attracted to women. In fact, I’m not a particularly sexual person. That said, I don’t dislike the idea of having sex with a man. For example, if I watch porn, I can get turned on by seeing male private parts, but overall, I’m just not a very sexual or “horny” person.

Lately, I haven’t been feeling good about myself. I feel like I’ve fallen behind in life because of these aspects of my personality, and I’m scared about my future. Does something actually seem wrong with me because I feel like I’m more comfortable and happier without getting married or having a partner?

Sometimes I feel like I don’t belong in this world and that I have no purpose in life. Right now, I also feel like I’m getting old, and even if I wanted to get married and start a family, I feel like it’s already too late because men don’t like women over 30...

Overall, I feel like I’ve fallen so far behind in life because of my personality and the way I am, and now I honestly don’t even know what I want from life anymore...pleople say it's a red flag and if a woman us still single unmarried at 30, there's always something wrong with her...

I'm gonna change very minor details to be sure his privacy is protected.

A guy reached out to me cus he wasnt sure whether his wife was cheating or not but he had his suspicion. He's also the father of 2 young children. I'm a PI in the making and I love to help people out like this, done* it vice versa too.

He wants to check her phone but doesn't know the code, I ask him if there's any camera that coul've picked her up putting in her cellphone code. I give him my secondary email to send me the file for me to analyze. He sends me a camera footage video of around 2 minutes from his garage.

It was far-off af and zoomed in it was way too blurry to see anything. I reach out to three of my friends to help me, they're ok with computers, especially 2. I guess a code, 1 guy guesses one and guy 2 agrees, guy 3 guesses a third code.

The chances of this working were astronomical, you literally couldn't make out what the screen even said at any point. He wanted to wait until the kids were out of the house, so it took 2 days. He wanted them not to see his reaction if he found anything.

My code failed, code 3 did too, code 2 ended up working(!!!). Eventually he was correct, no physical cheating, but the wife had an entire list of men with men calling and texting her everyday begging to take her on dates and trying to meet up with her, everytime she leaves now, he knows what's going on. I'll skip unnecessary details.
Long story short she's gonna burn in hell. I'm happy I could help someone and do good.
This was my third succesful case.

Also another fact to add, or atleast in terms of how many people I've helped, women from North America cheat much, ridiculously much, more than men. Especially if it's in the USA. Maybe some of you ever wondered, follow your instict.

TL;DR: Indian dude meeting GF’s gramma, thinks her Seagram’s bevs are soda, and accidentally gets drunk. Ends with Grandma petting his hair.
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Dated a sweet Indian dude and brought him to visit my fam. Sikh guy, non-practicing, an engineer.
Smoked a lot of cannabis, drank a lot of sugary/ energy bevs, but never drank alcohol.

My Scandinavian grandma (in her 80s) offers us Seagram's Bay Breezes; a fridge full from Thanksgiving, encourages us to "use them up."

Around the 1-hour mark, he is cracking #4, and I playfully call him "Drunkie". He immediately goes into panic mode and says, "This is a beer?! I felt so hot. I thought I was getting sick, but I'm just… so… happy!"

He is hammered, grinning and saying: "My frame-rate is decreased." We're cracking up.

Ends with him sitting on the floor in front of her recliner, talking about how much he loves the cows on the farm and the Mennonites’ horses. She's running her ancient hands through his thick wavy black hair and saying, “It's ridiculous! It's so thick! He should be a hair model!" and he was smiling like a happy cat in a sunbeam.

I harbour a deep, simmering resentment towards a very specific financial inequality in my daily life.
The shampoo I buy for myself at the local pharmacy costs around £3.50. To me, £3.50 is already a decent bit of money. It feels like a modest, respectable indulgence.
Then I looked at the price tag on the shampoo for my Jack Russell Terrier.
£6.50.
And it didn’t stop there. Upon closer inspection, I realized my family doesn't just use one bottle for the dog—they use two. One for actual washing, and another purely for "fragrance." Does anyone on Earth split their own hair-washing routine into a "cleansing phase" and a "scent-enhancement phase"? I certainly don't.
Why on earth does my head get a single, budget-tier bottle while the dog enjoys a two-tier luxury system? While my human scalp is being scrubbed with £3.50 worth of foam, over £11 of capital is being invested directly into the dog’s fur.
To make matters worse, the fragrance bottle is "Elegant Rose."
Now, don't misunderstand me. I’m not claiming £11 is an astronomical fortune in the pet care world. That isn't the point. The point is the staggering, unprovoked three-fold price disparity between my human skull and the dog's coat.
Unable to endure this cosmic injustice any longer, I decided to take action. I washed my own head with the dog's £11 rose-scented shampoo.
This is not fiction. Before you worry, rest assured—I didn't do it just out of blind jealousy. I conducted a rigorous safety verification on myself first. I can now confirm, with absolute scientific certainty backed by my own human scalp, that it is entirely harmless. It is an irrefutable fact.
The verdict? The actual washing experience was utterly indistinguishable from my £3.50 human shampoo. My hair did not suddenly become gloriously silky.
However, I must leave a crucial, battle-tested warning for any future rebels contemplating the same path:
Do not, under any circumstances, go to work after washing your hair with dog shampoo.
At the end of the day, it is formulated for canines. The olfactory direction is entirely different from human products. Whether it’s an aggressive chemical designed to neutralize wet-dog smell or some synthetic pet-shop sweetness, the aroma lingering on your head once it dries is, unequivocally, Dog.
If you ever feel compelled to protest the economic inequality in your household by raiding your pet's bath supplies, limit your experiment to Friday nights. Otherwise, you will find yourself sitting at your office desk, radiating the faint aroma of a freshly groomed, rose-scented terrier, subjected to deeply bewildered stares from your colleagues.
So today, I quietly lather my head with my £3.50 foam, staring with intense, burning jealousy at the dog swaddled in bubbles twice the price of my own.

Name's Eli. Twenty-five. Three years on the job.

Pay's decent. Hours are quiet.

Morning shift, I clean headstones. Scrub moss off the old ones. Some dates go back to 1800s. Names nobody visits anymore.

Afternoon, I dig. Six feet. Clean edges. Backfill neat.

My grandfather taught me. Said a grave's the last kindness you give someone. He's buried here now. West corner. I pass him every day.

Sometimes I take lunch under the big oak at the north corner. Shade covers half the older plots. Wind moves through. Birds.

Families come for burials. I stand back. Watch the ritual. The prayers. The crying. The dirt hitting wood.

I don't feel sad. I feel useful.

Late nights, I work alone. Mowing. Trimming. Checking fences.

The stones look different under moonlight. Softer. Like they're resting too.

I talk to them sometimes. "Quiet night, folks."

No answer. Never is.

Once, an old woman came at dusk. Stood by a grave I'd just finished. An hour she stood there.

Then she walked over. "You take care of him?"

"Yes ma'am."

She nodded. Left a flower. Walked away.

That's the job. You dig. You clean. You keep watch.

People think graveyards are scary.

They're not.

They're just full of people who finished their shift.

So it sounds ridiculous but this is 100% true and happened just last week. For context, me and this girl(I’ll call her Bff) are in our final year of school, we both have been friends for 3 years and we do everything together. I was there for her when her parents got a divorce. She was here for me when my uncle and grandparents passed away. So it’s safe to say we are really close and it’s not rare for people to mistake us as a couple.

Anyways, this semester has been pushing weight on me a lot. I have probably the hardest classes in the school, tests every few days, I study for hours everyday and that now means I don’t have much time to talk or hangout with bff.

So just last week she dropped by unannounced, luckily my parents weren’t home and I led her to my room where I of course was studying. It was quiet, I was focused and locked in and she notices and doesnt like that. So her big brain idea was to grab my Lego Bugatti Chiron and hold it above her head. I, the ever so sane person reacted quick and stood up to grab it back. She kept back backing away and I didn’t want to do anything rash that would make her drop the set so I just took steps closer, and closer until she was fully backed up agaisnt the wall and unable to move and I took the chance to grab the set. But I however didn’t know just how close I really was because this girls ears were genuinely so red that I thought she was bleeding. Then I looked further down and realized why that is. Children, close your eyes or wtv because her breasts were so pressed against my abdomen that I thought she got a flat tire for a split second. Like the gentleman I am, I backed away and put the set on its rightful place on my desk.

I tried to ignore the fact that I was pressed up on her like that and I just sat down. So 20 minutes passed in silence when I hear her shuffling around. I turn around and she has this expression on her face that I have never seen before. It was like a half playful smile but I could tell she was nervous as hell.

I don’t want to get into the person details but one thing led to another and we were getting prepared to do “it.” And just a heads up, i wear baggy clothes. Like my whole closet is full of baggy clothes, so when I took my jeans off, I guess she expected skinny legs or whatever but no, they were apparently not. And I don’t understand why she was surprised. I run, I play soccer a lot. I work my legs out a shit ton and she knows this so I don’t know what the hell was going on in that head of hers but it certainly wasn’t “oh I knew this was happening.”

So a few hours pass. She took a shower and I was leading her downstairs to the door, i dont have a car otherwise I would have dropped her off but Yk, im broke. So she left but has been more distant. So im texting her because im genuinely worried I did something wrong. She gives me vague answers and bland responses. “Im fine” “yeah” “it’s good” and allat. So I text a friend of hers and ask her a favour to ask if I had done anything wrong and I will just copy and paste what she texted back.

“So I texted her”
“She said your thighs were bigger than hers”
“Thats it”

So im here thinking “the fuck?” Shes upset I have thunder thighs or smth?

Update(she texted me)

So literally a few minutes ago she texted. Asked if we’re gonna go to Tim Hortons for lunch like we usually do on Monday’s/Fridays. Dont know why she texted this out of the blue considering she’s been so distant. She used the humour she usually does when texting. Word for word: “broski, we going tims or not???🥺.” Im still going to ask her tmrw morning why shes been so different. It could be i didnt “feel good” enough, it could be that I just took her virginity. Not sure, dont think I ever will be. hopefully it’s nothing too tragic. She could be lying about the thighs like one of the comments did say, that thought had crossed my mind, im not stupid but she didn’t have to lie about it considering she’s always honest to people with many other things about how she feels. I’ll update tomorrow and I’ll try to do it soon as possible