From: TA 1485

To: X-relief. 
Via:[email protected]

Time of delivery: 6:06pm

My first ever crush was Baden, a biracial tall guy that transfered to our school in my second year of junior school. He was  not necessarily a new guy, he had been in town for a long time but he was just newly admitted into my school.

I fell so hard for him, that at one point I seemed like I was drowning and I wasn't even bothered.

Was it obvious to everyone?  Not much but I knew every tiny details about him, from his short brown hair to his dark eyes, to the way he wore his wristwatch--always on his left hand to how he like his burger..

I could never really find the courage or enough words to walk up to him, and pour my hearts content and maybe get a kiss 💋 after it. 😚😏.

But my friend did and I didn't even know they were an item until I was getting ready to spy/stare longing at him when my friend rounded his locker and viola...  they started kissing.
 
I was ablaze at that day, I couldn't think straight and though I didn't tell her of my crush I wasn't expecting it. She didn't even mention anything about liking him or anything or anything at all.

A few days later, I confronted her about it, she looked genuinely confused and asked why I was bothering her, she claimed she had no idea of my crush on him.
When I asked why she didn't tell me of her new relationship, she said she forgot.

I tried, I really tried. I even tried to suppress how he made me feel around him. I really tried to ignore how my heart fell below any time he cast loving gaze at my friend. I tried to ignore the bitter taste in my mouth each time my friend will ask for opinion on the clothes to wear on a date with him, I tried to ignore it.  I tried hard to take all his good byes and stay safe as normal parting greetings, I tried to ignore them every time, they kissed around me. They tried to set me up with one of his other friend but I didn't like him so it died there.

I couldn't take it anymore, so I planned to do what I should I have done a long time ago, I planned to get him to myself.

Getting him to myself meant alot of subtlety, It meant alot of third wheeling and even double dates. It meant that I was always around, of course I knew everything about him so seducing him wasn't much of a problem. It was very exciting, I liked the thrills it created inside my body, in some moments I forgot that he was someone else's boyfriend, all those were my special moments.

You do know that seducing a guy  isn't the hardest thing, but baden proved stubborn and even dumb to my advances, but boys are like rock, in the end they crack. And so I was enjoying him, the way I had wanted, I even pondered over why I didn't have enough courage to confess to him before everything became messy.

i don't know how it happened but my friend caught us, and surprisingly I wasn't scared or rueful, I looked at her with a bewildered expression, but definitely not of  fear or regret. She screamed and we exchanged words and that was the end of our friendship.

I agree that I am a bad person, and that I slept with, not steal, my ex-friend's boyfriend. They got back together but they didn't last three weeks before they separated. Baden isn't back in my arms but we engage in occasional friends with benefits.

My friend still wants him, but on his part its definitely over, and I feel a weird sense of bittersweetness. Irrespective of how and what happened, I am still a slut in my high school and the boyfriend snatcher.

I am fed up, with dealing with side talks and snickers its like she turned the whole school against me. I didn't even get the boy I had always desired and here I am suffering for it.

I tell her during our unending confrontation, that I am above fighting over a boy and that they weren't meant to last. I wish that i'd stop receiving stupid letters from the 'angry girlfriends association' and they'd stop writing slut or whore on everything that concerns me.

From Teresa, your not so slutty and actually sad high school girl.

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12k views. 6k angry 😫. 1k hearts 💗.  50 relates 📎

From: ST 1499

To: X-relief. 
Via:[email protected]

Time of delivery: 5:05am

Do you ever stop to think of why the world is filled with so much hatred and rage?  With so much wickedness and distrust?  With so much pain and hurt?

Because I have and I haven't really gotten an answer. I watched your interview with rbc, and saw so many post online about you, and  I was awfully surprised at the amount of hatred you were getting. We really live in a messed up world and to be honest I admire you and your courage. Stay strong 👏👏👏👏👏

Today is the 333 day since I was cautioned on wearing something I love. I got a scholarship in a private school  with my five friends and the thing I love about the school is that its a full scholarship, but there are so many rich people and sometimes I get intimidated and sufficiently insufficient.

On my first day of school, one girl shouted in my class that I had an explosive in my bag and everybody faked been scared and started laughing, I went from genuinely confused to surprise, to disappointment and finally  hurt. Our form master cautioned her, but even I knew it wasn't the end.

The first time they asked me to stop wearing my hijab, I asked why I had to remove a part of my clothing when others could turn their bodies to jewelry stores. But like you know already, I had to stop.

I had to stop wearing my hijab, but they didn't have to stop their judgmental glares and offensive comments. One day,  I decided to screw the rules and verbally  tackle one of my so called mockers, he didn't last, and I made sure I screamed every single bit of anger and frustration at him and by consequence the whole class. If You think you've seen it all, then try being a Muslim in my class or neighborhood.

If any mocker is reading this, I hope you know that i'd never be 'un proud' of been a Muslim.

I hope you know that, its body and not its elegance that has been hidden. I hope you know, its an hijab,  not a causal headgear, i hope you know its for wrapping my head not for hiding explosives.

I hope you know that I am eighteen just like some of you, and some of you have been and will be. I hope you know that been eighteen is a number and not a determinant of whether I have a heart or not. I also like to know, how many persons defined or called you a blood thirsty killer at eighteen.

I hope you know that, I don't use every second of my life plotting deaths or making explosives, that I also appreciate fresh air, and laughing, and walks in the parks and on my way from school. And calculus is definitely for people with three heads.

I hope you know that I am a warrior, a human, a female and a girl. And as such, I can't run away from anything that threatens my identity. I will stand to defend it, not in war or mortal combat but in my loving actions, tender appeals and curative retorts.

From a honoured and proud hijabi. Sekinat.

12.5k views. 3.5k fighting 💪. 2k feeling sorry 😩. 1.9k hearts 💗. 1.1k angry 😫. 509 relates 📎.