Category: Life Experiences

For more than a decade, I’ve worked as a social worker, assessing people who want to become foster parents, adoptive parents, or permanent guardians of children already in their lives.

Essentially, part of my job is deciding whether someone should be trusted to raise a child.

And I can tell you that after ten years of sitting in people’s living rooms, asking deeply personal questions, and hearing things most people would never dream of admitting to a stranger, I’ve learned that appearances mean very little.

I’m 36 years old, and I recently had a colonoscopy without any sedation.

Yes, I was completely awake. No anesthesia, no painkillers, nothing to make me sleepy. Just me, a doctor, a camera, and a very strange afternoon.

When I tell people this, they look at me like I’ve voluntarily signed up to be tortured. My friends and family couldn’t believe it. The staff at the medical office didn’t seem to believe I was actually going to follow through with it either.

I’m a high school senior in South Korea, and I spend about 10 hours a day studying, including weekends.

I know that probably sounds insane to people in other countries, but it’s pretty normal here, especially if you’re trying to get into a good university.

Here’s what my schedule looked like the other day.

1. I feel terrible. I love this guy and he does everything he can for me. He’s the perfect partner in almost every way. Unfortunately, his penis is abnormally small, 3 inches erect. I was disappointed at first, but I really thought I could work with it. We’ve been together 6 months now and I’ve never had an orgasm from penetration.

When I was 12 years old, I was attending college. I had a scholarship, was studying subjects most adults struggle with, and had what looked like an incredibly promising future ahead of me.

Today, I’m 24, broke, and living with my grandparents.

I’ve never been formally diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder, and frankly, I’m not sure I’d want that diagnosis on my record. But two psychologists, including my current therapist, have described me as narcissistic. I’m also a psychology student, and the more I learn about the subject, the harder it becomes to deny that they’re probably right.

The strange thing is that I don’t walk around feeling superior to everyone all the time.

I’m 18 years old, and I’m planning to marry my best friend.

She’s 19, she’s a lesbian, and I’m aromantic, which means I don’t experience romantic attraction. Neither of us is in love with the other. We don’t plan on having a traditional romantic relationship, and we probably won’t ever have sex.

But we’re seriously considering getting married anyway.

I never thought I’d get to a point in my life where I’d feel at peace with love. For decades, love was synonymous with pain for me. It meant chaos, criticism, neglect. I grew up in an environment where tenderness was rare and conditional, where survival mattered more than feeling safe. Later, in adulthood, I carried those patterns with me into relationships—marriages, flings, attempts at intimacy. Every time I tried to trust, I ended up diminished. Every time I thought I’d finally found stability, I learned it was built on sand.