STORY 1: The Friends Who Weren’t
I had two people I genuinely believed were my closest friends. We laughed together, confided in each other, and shared almost everything. One day, I was hanging out with one of them, and as we were getting ready to go out, she was doing her makeup.
She asked me to text our other friend to update her about our plans because she was too busy to type.
While scrolling through the chat to find the last message, I accidentally scrolled up—and my stomach dropped. There it was, a full thread of them talking about me. They weren’t just gossiping; they were cruel. They mocked the things I’d said, shared my pictures just to make fun of how I looked, and even joked about my family. It was all mean-spirited and ugly.
I sat there frozen, trying to keep my face neutral while my heart was breaking. I didn’t confront her that day. I just quietly started distancing myself. Eventually, we had a falling out over something small—thankfully, that gave me the perfect reason to walk away without ever explaining why. Looking back, I’m grateful I found out. Losing fake friends hurt, but keeping them would’ve been worse.
STORY 2: The Secret Alexa Hid
I’d worked with Alexa for seven years, and in that time, we became genuinely close. We had lunch breaks together, shared inside jokes, and even talked about our families. Over the past year, she’d been open about one thing—she and her husband were trying for a baby.
When she finally announced she was pregnant, everyone at work celebrated. We even threw her a small surprise shower when she hit the third trimester. But tragedy struck when she said she had miscarried at eight months. I comforted her, helped her through the emotional fallout, and truly believed every word.
Months later, an old co-worker came to visit. We were catching up, and I mentioned Alexa—how she’d been through so much after losing the baby. The color drained from her face. “Wait,” she said quietly, “Alexa was pregnant? Is this some kind of joke? You do know Alexa is transgender, right? She can’t get pregnant.”
The words hit me like a thunderclap. My first reaction was disbelief—that couldn’t be true. I’d seen her baby bump, her ultrasounds, even her maternity photos. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense—she’d never shown any medical reports, never talked about doctor visits, and her belly had appeared overnight.
I felt stunned, betrayed, and heartbroken. I’d trusted her completely, shared her pain, and defended her when others gossiped. I didn’t confront her; I just quietly stepped back. Months later, she left the company without a word.
To this day, I still don’t understand why she felt the need to create such a story—but I learned a painful truth: sometimes people lie not for gain, but to live inside a version of reality they wish were true.
