“It’s best if we keep our past in the past.”

I'm an Associate Editor on BuzzFeed's Pop Culture team who spends my days fangirling over all my favorite TV shows and movies.

Some confessions are also from this thread.

Some stories deal with topics like abuse, addiction, and suicide. 

"Before I know it, I'm on top of the guy, making out with him on his girlfriend's (aka my BEST FRIEND'S) couch. I don't know how long it was, but we stopped once he got a text that they were coming back in an Uber. Anyway, it's been six months now. She moved away for a job opportunity, and they broke up because of it. I came out, he came out as asexual, and now I'm dating him. And she still doesn't know."

"Two weeks later, he got arrested for shoplifting with a pocket full of illegal painkillers. I bailed him out of jail and told him that if it happened again, he would never see our baby or me again. He, of course, promised that his drug days were over. He started going to a methadone clinic, and I moved myself and my daughter into his apartment. I knew it wasn't the best idea. I *knew* without a doubt. But I was in love with the idea of having a normal family and terrified of being a single mom times two. So, I was determined to make it work.

Less than a week later, he calls me from jail. Apparently, he and two other guys had broken into a house, robbed the safe, and stolen a bunch of firearms. There was no bond, so my boyfriend was facing years in prison.

I did the only thing I could do. I got an abortion. Not a surgical one, but the one where you take two kinds of pills eight hours apart. I followed directions perfectly and had a miserable night. I cried the whole time.

I went to the follow-up at Planned Parenthood two weeks later as instructed. They gave me a vaginal ultrasound to make sure no tissue remained in my uterus. Imagine my surprise when the ultrasound revealed a perfectly healthy and very much alive fetus. I felt awful trying to abort a second time, so I went through with the pregnancy.

Eventually, I gave birth to a full-term, 10-pound, healthy, perfectly formed, mentally normal boy. He just turned 2, and I love him more than life itself. I will never, ever tell him that I tried to abort him at seven weeks. I will take this secret to my grave, as telling my family couldn't lead to anything good. But sometimes I look at his beautiful toddler face, and the guilt punches me in the guts."

"Although it was awkward, we both ignored the fact that we knew each other. My brother got pulled away for something or another, and I finally got to speak to May. We started a conversation that took us from the kitchen, out to the deck, and down the path to an old, dried-up pond at the edge of my parents' property. It was like all of the good times from the three years of dating her were consolidated into that conversation...everything just clicked. The rush of emotion was unlike anything I've ever felt, and it was the same for May. And despite being all sorts of evil, we took off all our clothes, and we had sex on the old dock. 

Over the next couple of days, I went over to my brother's apartment while he was at work. We had sex all over everything...the couch, his bed, even the bathroom floor. All unprotected. A week passed, and the rush of emotion subsided, and I came to my senses. Although we both wanted more, we decided to stop seeing each other. The wedding went off without issue despite the best man feeling like a complete demon... I just wanted to get back on a plane to California as soon as possible. And after wishing the *happy* couple on their way, that's just what I did.

Now here's where things get interesting: Five months after the wedding, May calls to tell me she's pregnant. And the kid is mine. We both decide to *pretend* my brother is the father. The kid's first birthday is coming up, and I still don't know if I made the right choice, but I speak with my brother often, and he seems happy...and I'm fine with that... Ignorance is bliss."

"When I got overwhelmed (which happened often), I would feel sick and scared and literally forget where I was and what I was doing. It was frightening and embarrassing, especially for someone like me, who had always had high expectations placed on me by those around me.

I had lost pretty much all my friends at this point, and in my mental state, I thought that those who remained would abandon me if they knew how much I was struggling.

So, I told everyone that it was going great. Every day, I would leave the house for six hours and drive. Sometimes I would stop in a parking lot, sometimes I would just keep driving all day. I would find cheap used textbooks at college bookstores so that I could bring them home and 'study.' I created elaborate lies about my classes and professors to have stories to tell when people asked how it was going.

I kept telling myself that I was just doing this until my brain worked again, and that next quarter I would go back for real when I could actually handle it. Problem is, things just kept getting worse, and as time went on, I became less able to get back on track.

This went on for 2.5 years, until I was supposed to graduate. So, I lied about that, too. I forged transcripts and invented stories about why I didn't want to work in the field of my degree, hoping to move past it. I got a labor job and slowly found things working themselves out as my brain chemistry improved, and steady work kept me from completely destroying myself.

Eventually, I had to move. For the first time in over a decade, I was finally free of my opiate addiction and starting to feel part of the world again, but I was still carrying the lie of my college degree. I volunteered in some places related to that field, and they really liked me.

They liked me so much that they hired me on an emergency basis (no transcripts required), and I've worked there ever since. Now, three years into my sobriety and seemingly a lifetime removed from the pain of those years, they want to promote me to a career-level job that I would absolutely love.

I'm so good at what I do, and it brings me so much joy, but this promotion would come with scrutiny and background checks that I know I can't withstand.

I plan to go back to school for real, and I think I'll do well, but the shame and regret of this situation is something I don't think I'll ever shake."

"Long story short, my father-in-law was convicted and sentenced to several decades in prison, given his long criminal history. I remember breathing a sigh of relief that we wouldn't have to deal with him for the foreseeable future. However, due to a court technicality, the bond was returned. Since I posted the bond, the check was in my name for $10,000 and interest. The in-laws, who were used to losing their bond payments and quite legally/financially illiterate, would have no idea.

So, I decided to pay myself. I know it was their money, but I felt justified given the time I had to give and the emotional hardship I endured when they refused to take responsibility for this matter.

Again, I don't feel right about it, and if I can get that much money at one time again, I want to make it right. However, that day is not today."

"Believe me when I say there's a lot of us out there who share this ideal. However, it's not widely accepted behavior. Those who don't embrace the culture are usually looked down upon. Think vegetarian lion.

I got into this field over 15 years ago for a reason. As of late, I feel I have finally realized what that was. While I can't completely turn this oil tanker of a problem around, I can try to prevent some from being exposed to an unforgivable system.

It really comes down to having the discussion with an open mind and realizing some laws don't stand the test of time."

Responses have been edited for length/clarity.