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Confessions

Now You Can Call Me Every Single Time…

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A humorous and exaggerated scene depicting someone overloading a coworker or friend with dozens of sticky notes, papers, and gadgets labeled with phra

This story takes place back in the late 90s, when things at the high school level were very different. For context, I was a senior in high school and technically had enough credits to graduate after my junior year. I’d earned extra gym credits early through martial arts, and my test scores and coursework were solid. However, I decided to stick around for my senior year to graduate with my friends.

Since I didn’t need any particular classes, I filled my schedule with a mix of things that looked good to colleges—AP courses like U.S. Government, Physics, and Anatomy & Physiology—alongside some random electives like Jewelry 2. But after realizing I didn’t care about certain classes and didn’t want to risk lowering my GPA, I dropped Physics, Government, and the jewelry class. This left me with three open periods surrounding lunch. It was glorious.

Because both my parents worked, no one realized something was amiss—until we discovered our answering machine was broken. Back then, schools would leave messages for everything, and apparently, mine had been calling three times a day to inform my parents that I wasn’t attending a “study hall” class I’d been assigned to after dropping my other classes.

In previous years, dropped classes would just result in free periods, so this was new. Oddly, no one at the school mentioned it to me directly or sent anything home. But the woman making the calls was relentless—and not exactly pleasant. After the first few days, her messages became increasingly nasty, accusing us of irresponsibility and making ominous comments.

When my mom started taking some time off from her job as a hairstylist, she was home to answer the calls. She calmly told the woman that it wasn’t a big deal: my grades were good, I could technically graduate already, and my college applications were submitted. That didn’t go over well. The woman lost it, berating my mom about how irresponsible we were and even threatening to ruin my college applications. She escalated her efforts, calling every single day and every single period I missed—even after repeated phone calls and in-person meetings where my parents tried to clear things up.

Turns out, the school claimed they were legally obligated to report every instance of “unapproved truancy,” even though my parents had made it clear they were fine with my open periods. The school demanded a written statement from my parents acknowledging that they knew I was skipping and even wanted them to write bizarre, over-the-top things like admitting they were bad parents. Naturally, my mom refused.

But then she got an idea.

She played along and told the woman to call her every single time I missed a period. Every. Single. Time. When the calls came in, my mom would pretend to deliberate. “Hmm, do I approve of him missing this period? I don’t know, let me think about it…” Then, she’d finally say, “Okay, just this one time. But make sure to call me again if he misses anything else.”

This went on for five months. My mom dragged it out, knowing full well I’d be missing three periods a day until graduation. The school eventually gave up about a month before I graduated, and the relentless calls finally stopped.

To this day, my mom looks back fondly on the months she spent driving that woman—Sarah—up the wall. It was a masterclass in petty revenge.

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Confessions

Am I the Asshole for Making the Nurse at My Hysterectomy Pre-Op Appointment Feel Stupid?

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A tense and awkward scene set in a medical office during a pre-op appointment. A patient, looking frustrated but composed, sits across from a nurse wh.

Apparently, the nurse thought I was rude and combative because she literally noted that in my medical records.

I had a pre-op appointment with my hysterectomy surgeon today. During the triage portion, as the nurse was checking my vitals, she started asking me routine questions. But then she asked why I was choosing such a “drastic” procedure for period pain.

I explained that it’s not just period pain—it’s debilitating. The pain has gotten so bad that walking my 5-year-old to school leaves me on the verge of tears, and I bleed so heavily that I have to plan my kids’ lives around it. I’m exhausted and tired of living like this.

She then asked what I would do if I ever divorced my husband and a future partner wanted children. I responded, “Well, I already have three. They can pick one.” She corrected me, saying, “No, I mean their own child.” I shrugged and replied, “Well, that sucks for them, then.”

She went on to suggest birth control pills to slow the bleeding. I told her that’s just a bandaid solution to the problem. She then proposed an endometrial ablation, and I countered, “But ablation also means I can’t have kids. So what’s the difference? Why not just solve the problem altogether instead of using another temporary fix? Plus, the tissue could grow back since I’m only 32 and still have 15 to 20 years of dealing with this nonsense.”

At that point, she rolled her eyes and led me to the exam room to wait for the doctor. When I got home, I checked my medical notes, as I always do, and found that she’d written I was “rude” and “combative.”

Am I the asshole for how I handled this? The nurse was essentially trying to talk me out of a procedure that my doctor and I have been discussing for over a year.

Edit: Holy wow, I left after 10 comments and came back to 500! I’ve already emailed my doctor about the situation and am waiting to hear back tomorrow.

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Confessions

AITA for Promising My GF I’d Help with Her Loan but Backing Out After She Cheated on Me?

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A dramatic and emotional scene depicting a couple having a tense argument in a modern apartment living room. The man looks resolute and upset, sitting.

I (23M) had been with my girlfriend (24F) for almost four years. She was my first girlfriend, and I loved her deeply—too much, honestly. We were friends in school, and I genuinely thought we’d spend the rest of our lives together.

Early in 2024, she told me she wanted to apply for a master’s program and asked if I could help her financially. Without hesitation, I agreed. At the time, I envisioned her as my future wife and felt it was my responsibility to support her goals.

I approached my father, who is quite successful, and asked if he could help. He agreed but was cautious—he insisted that she take out a loan instead of directly giving her the money. My father promised to cover 60-70% of the monthly payments, and both her family and mine agreed to this arrangement.

Three months ago, everything fell apart. My girlfriend confessed that she had cheated on me. She told me she had gotten drunk at a party, kissed another guy, performed oral, and had sex with him—all in my car.

I was devastated. I loved her so much, but her betrayal crushed me. She apologized profusely, saying she made a terrible mistake and wanted to come clean because she didn’t want to hide it from me. I told her I forgave her, but honestly, I’m not sure if I meant it or if I was just pretending. Since then, I’ve been struggling with depression, hiding it from everyone.

Despite my heartbreak, her family went ahead and took out the loan with the understanding that my father would help with the payments. But as time passed, I couldn’t shake the resentment. I felt like she was expecting me to forgive her completely while also leaning on my family for financial support—using my father’s wealth as a safety net.

A few days ago, I finally told her I was breaking up with her and that she wouldn’t be receiving any more financial help from us. She freaked out, accusing me of being petty and saying she thought I had forgiven her. I simply walked away.

When I told my father about everything, he didn’t comfort me. Instead, he said, “This is why I insisted they take a loan instead of just handing over the money. You’ve learned a lesson.” At first, I was upset by his lack of sympathy, but I’ve come to realize he was protecting me in his own way. He planned for this possibility and always had my back, even if it wasn’t obvious at the time.

Now, my ex and her family are furious. They’re accusing me of ruining her life out of anger and saying I should have broken up with her earlier if I wasn’t going to help. They’ve even threatened to sue, but my father isn’t worried. He pointed out there’s no legal case since it was a verbal agreement and encouraged me to let them waste their time and money if they want to pursue it.

I feel conflicted. On one hand, I don’t regret setting boundaries and walking away after what she did. On the other hand, I can’t help but feel guilty. Was I too petty? Did I go too far in my anger? I’m still processing everything, and part of me wonders if I’ve made the right decision.

AITA?

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Confessions

Am I the Asshole for Not Immediately Confronting My Brother-in-Law About His Tattoo and Asking Him to Leave My House?

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A dramatic and tense scene set in a modern living room. The image shows a family gathering gone wrong, with a focus on the host (a person looking conf

I (26F) recently hosted my husband’s two sisters, their partners, and their children. They live about six hours away and were passing through on their way to a camping trip, so they spent the day with us before continuing on.

One of my brother-in-laws (BIL) and I couldn’t be more different, and to an extent, the same goes for his wife, my sister-in-law (SIL). While she mostly keeps her opinions to herself, he’s outspoken about his political and religious views, often in ways I find uncomfortable. For context, a few years ago, he caused a stir within the family by wanting to plaster political messages on his work vehicles (he owns a business). After backlash from friends and family, he didn’t go through with it but still complains about feeling “silenced” and frequently mocks people who disagree with his views.

Despite all this, we’ve maintained a surface-level relationship. When we’re together in person, he’s generally polite, and we’ve even shared a few laughs over the years. I chalked up his strong opinions to cultural differences, as I’m originally from a less religious country. In eight years of being part of the family, I had never heard him make overtly racist remarks in my presence—until now.

During their recent visit, BIL casually revealed that he had bought a tattoo gun online and had tattooed a small but unmistakable swastika on his upper thigh. He showed it off, joking about how no one would see it because it’s always covered.

I was stunned. My husband and I discussed it quietly in the kitchen, deciding not to escalate the situation in the moment. We wanted to keep the visit civil, especially for the sake of the children.

After they left, SIL messaged me to ask if everything was okay, as she had noticed our reactions. While my husband and I hadn’t yet decided on a course of action, I took the opportunity to express how deeply uncomfortable we were with her husband’s tattoo. I told her we didn’t feel comfortable having him in our home anymore and that any future interactions would be civil but distant. I explained we would focus on her, the children, and my other SIL during visits, but we wouldn’t be staying with them or hosting her husband.

She was very upset and seemed fixated on why we didn’t say anything in the moment if it bothered us so much. I explained that I didn’t want to escalate things or create a scene in front of the children. I also admitted feeling guilty for not speaking up right away and being, in a way, a bystander to his actions.

I don’t regret setting boundaries or distancing myself from him, but I’m disappointed in myself for not confronting the situation head-on. Part of me feels like I failed to act in the moment.

So, AITAH for waiting until they left to address the issue?

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