Chilling Real-Life Confessions
Get it off your chest. Confess your sins. There's a reason why these phrases exist. People aren't meant to keep their deepest, darkest secrets hidden forever. These Redditors came together to share their experiences of having someone make a jaw-dropping confession—or to confess the things that have been weighing them down. Grab the popcorn, because these confessions are seriously juicy.
1. His Phone Confessed For Him
My husband had a cardiac event that required an ambulance. As the ambulance was arriving I asked him if the code to open his phone was XXXX, he said yes, then looked up at me and said, "I am so sorry." He had successful surgery, but had several strokes on the operating table and was taken off life support after seven days. That’s when I learned his dark secret.
When I opened his phone I found out he was having an affair. The same code to his phone also opened his laptop where I found telephone recordings of him and his girlfriend, as well as screenshots of their chats.
I don't know how interesting this is, but it was certainly devastating to me.
2. A Scandalous Past
One week before my younger sister's wedding, my dad decided to call myself, both my sisters, and my mother—his ex-wife—to meet at his house for something "very important he needed to tell us." We all thought he had cancer or something.
We were very worried. Once we were all there, he sobbingly confessed to having a five year old son living in the town next to ours.
The bad news? This meant that the kid was conceived and born while my parents were still married. He claimed he didn't know for sure that the kid was his, and he had only recently gotten a DNA test. He showed us a picture of our half-brother.
He looks EXACTLY like my dad. Even though they were already divorced, my mother was devastated.
3. Difficult Childhood
Everyone around me already knows that I was brought up by foster families because I had a bad early childhood. I deliberately keep it vague and say stuff like "I'd rather not go into it"
so that people will just assume I was abused in some way and they'll stop asking about it.
The truth is that for the first seven years of my life, I was brought up as a girl by my psycho birth mother who really wanted a daughter and didn't let the snag of giving birth to a boy stop her from trying to raise one.
She was a pretty successful professional in a constitutional field and had me via an anonymous sperm donor from a fertility clinic. She found out I was a boy at a late ultrasound and then moved across the country.
She gave birth to me at home and continued to move about until I was five or so. It was just the two of us all my life. We had contact with other people, of course, but they rarely got very close. I had lots of friends but was always supervised.
I found out way after that my mother's strong puritanical Christianity was a lie she used to explain why she was so strict about me being private and never letting anyone see me get changed or anything.
I just accepted all of this as fact, having never been told anything different. I was sent to a religious school for girls and had a really great childhood.
I was a bit of a tomboy and played with lego and toy animals, rather than dolls and stuff, but that's not unusual and no one ever questioned if I was a girl, even me. I knew about men and women but had never really seen many naked people.
My mother never ever spoke to me about it, but I kinda had the impression that when I grew up and got breasts and stuff, my dick would kinda fall off or something.
I would be a woman and other kids would keep their dicks and they would be men. I dunno, to be honest, I never really thought about it. Anyway, I carried on with my happy girlhood and had a bunch of friends and everything was great until one fateful day changed everything. I was seven years old and a teacher accidentally spilled a cup of hot coffee over me at school.
The liquid soaked through my clothes and was scalding me so the staff immediately stripped me out of my dress and underwear to get the hot coffee away from my skin. And then they found out.
The authorities were called and I got taken to speak with Social Services. They asked me a bunch of questions about life at home and stuff.
Meanwhile, my mother was taken in for questioning too. She refused to acknowledge me as a male and insisted that I was her daughter. Because she was, you know, delusional and stuff, I wasn't allowed to go back home but got put with a foster family and went through loads of therapy and stuff. The worst part was that literally overnight, I lost everything.
My mother, my home, all my toys, and all my clothes. I moved schools so I lost all my friends, they cut all my hair off and told me I wasn't a girl anymore. It was really traumatic. The first foster home wasn't that great.
They had three boys already and going from a sheltered 'religious', only-child upbringing to a rough-and-tumble testosterone-filled environment was really difficult.
They tried to force me to be masculine and I was just too confused about what they wanted. Anything 'girly' was reprimanded and I felt so lost and alone because nothing I did was right. This all led me straight to a breaking point, and I tried to take my own life when I was 11 years old and again at 13 because I didn't feel like I fit in anywhere. After the second attempt, they moved me to a different foster family who was awesome.
I consider them to be my parents. They actually stood up for me and the first thing was that they let me grow my hair. From when I got taken into care, they buzzed my hair short and I hated it.
They always had to hold me down and do it forcibly while I was crying and fighting. My new parents flatly refused to do it and said that loads of boys had long hair.
They also let me quit karate and football and take up swimming and jazz dance. Since I'd been in care, no one had ever stood up for my right to choose what activities to do, or how to dress before. It was amazing.
In the end, I came out of it with a pretty healthy gender identity. I went through school and got my degree and have a pretty good job and an amazing, supportive wife.
Everything looks great. But I can never speak about my early childhood and how I grew up as a little girl.
4. The Runaway
This happened during my best friend’s grandfather’s funeral. He had left a letter to be read during the service. For a long time, the family was under the impression he was born an orphan and had no biological family living. That bombshell of a letter quickly revealed the truth and changed how the family saw their grandfather.
The letter detailed how he ran away from home after his wealthy pastor father started extorting people’s money. He saw through the lies being peddled to vulnerable people, changed his name, and went halfway across the country to start a new life.
The letter also revealed the names of his brothers and sisters, many of who were still living.
None of the family wanted to reach out to those siblings after they learned about what his father had done. That side of the family continues the practice of extorting people for their hard-earned money. Some are in prison.
Some are living off the father’s money in comfort and luxury, having never worked a day in their lives.
