Parents in my generation were sold a particular narrative: if you do it right, if you sacrifice enough, if you show up for every game and recital and school function, your adult children will want to be around you. They'll call. They'll remember your birthday. They'll treat you like you matter. That was the premise, the bargain.
I was thinking about this the other day while scrolling through my phone on a Saturday morning, realizing I'd been working for two hours without even noticing. Growing up, my weekends looked nothing like this. There were unspoken rules, traditions that just happened without anyone scheduling them into a calendar app. These weren't grand gestures or expensive activities. They were simple rituals that, looking back now, built something most of us are desperately trying to recreate through therapy apps and self-help books: genuine connection.
When he was eight years old, Markus Lidman realized he was different from the other children in Pitea, a town in northern Sweden. They had all inherited the same pale skin tone as their parents. He, on the other hand, was dark-skinned. I decided to ask them if they were really my parents, and they told me they had adopted me in Colombia in 1982. They sat with me and showed me a video of the orphanage, he recalls.
I have been in a prayer group for a few years now. I enjoy praying and discussing all the ins and outs of the Bible. However, even though spiritually it's enriching, the people are a bit 'meh' - they are a bit of a letdown.
My boyfriend just lost his mom suddenly and tragically. He has barely been able to function during this time, so I took on the responsibility of making the arrangements to honor her life. I knew his mom, too, so it was hard having to stow away my grief, but I know he was grateful. My boyfriend's ex showed up to the funeral.
What do we live for if it is not to make life less difficult for each other? Since then, I have never treated my relationships the same. I struggle with depression, which can make maintaining balance in a relationship extremely difficult. But if I can say to myself at the end of the day that I have done one thing just one little thing to make his life better, then I feel as if I haven't failed the day entirely. Brandi, North Carolina
I have been interested in psychology since I was about 14. I wanted to understand myself, my family, and my surroundings. So, becoming a therapist was quite an obvious choice for me. I started working with large groups, then moved to families, then couples. In particular, I was interested in interracial, intercultural, inter-religious couples and families - families in cultural transition. What is sexuality in the culture, and how does it enter into the family culture and the couple's relationship?
Between the two of us, we smoke one joint after 7 p.m. about four days a week. We also enjoy it on special occasions like holidays and birthdays. Lately, when our adult child has been over to visit and we step away to share a joint, they'll comment, I thought you only smoked on certain days or something to that effect. I feel like they're keeping tabs on us, or even judging us by saying OK in a disapproving way.
On average, single adults in the U.S. report they have fallen in passionate love twice in their life so far, according to a new survey. And 14 percent of the 10,036 respondents said they had never fallen in passionate love at all. The results highlight the diversity of people's experiences with love, says the study's lead author Amanda Gesselman, a psychologist at Indiana University's Kinsey Institute. There's a lot more variation than we really know about, she says.
When Clara first learned that her college crush was getting married, she was heartbroken - because she wished it were the two of them tying the knot. They were friends in college, and this ex soon became Clara's first queer awakening. "[The crush] was strong enough that I had to admit it, or it would eat me alive," Clara, who asked to use a pseudonym for privacy, told HuffPost.
As Valentine's Day approaches, we are once again flooded with the usual suspects: roses, chocolates, sophisticated dinners and glossy ads featuring young heterosexual couples staring earnestly into each other's eyes. The problem isn't just that this version of romance is exclusionary though it is it's that it's profoundly out of step with how love is actually being lived, negotiated and reimagined in contemporary Australia.
After interviewing over 200 people for various articles, I've become hypersensitive to the subtle ways trust builds or breaks in conversation. And here's what I've discovered: we all use phrases that quietly erode trust, often multiple times a day, completely unaware of the damage we're doing to our relationships and credibility. The fascinating part? These aren't obvious lies or manipulative statements. They're everyday phrases that seem harmless but trigger our brain's ancient alarm systems, making people instinctively pull back from us.
I love my fiancée so much that I proposed to her twice. It wasn't because I didn't believe my lover - who is admittedly far out of my league - the first time she said yes, nor was it my pesky perfectionism rearing its demanding head because not every detail went according to plan. Rather, certain aspects of our engagement didn't quite meet our expectations.
When you add up dinner, drinks and gas or ride-shares, dating can cost a small fortune these days. It's become so expensive that a startling number of Americans are willing to take on credit card debt just to afford it. According to a new "loveflation" survey from online billing site Invoice Home, one in four young Americans would consider going into credit card debt to afford dating someone they really liked.
Gone are the days of dimly lit first dates, swiping right and "you up?" texts. This Valentine's Day, San Franciscans went shopping for a different kind of snack at their local Trader Joe's. Based on the number of name tags handed out, nearly 400 singles showed up at the Hayes Valley Trader Joe's on Thursday evening with the hope of finding love - a testament to the allure of forming in-person connections even in the mecca of AI.
Picture this: You're 75 years old, sitting in your living room on a Sunday afternoon. The phone hasn't rung in weeks. Your birthday came and went with just a few obligatory Facebook posts. The grandkids visit out of duty, not desire. You were once the life of every party, the person everyone called for advice, the hub of your social circle. Now? The silence is deafening.
Simply put, "A minimal effort partner is a person who does the bare minimum when it comes to their relationship," Dr. Marisa T. Cohen, relationship expert for the dating app Hily told HuffPost. This is a partner who will put in little work when it comes to the relationship, neglect their partner's needs and give indications that they might not be fully invested in the relationship.
You know what families always say about estranged relatives? "They changed." "They got selfish." "They think they're better than us now." But after years of watching this pattern play out, reading psychology texts on family dynamics, and yes, living through my own complicated family relationships, I've noticed something different. The people who end up distancing themselves from their families often share remarkably similar experiences and traits that have nothing to do with what their families believe.
Valentine's Day is out there with fire, arguing about who forgot what, and pretending not to look at who clicked on your Instagram story. Every year, in a big way, the day reminds us that we are all still very committed to love, maybe even irrationally so.
Maybe you first bonded over shared workplace frustrations. You gradually started finding each other every lunch break and synchronizing trips to the coffee machine. Eventually they become a confidant for venting about your real life outside of work. They become your work spouse. And if you find yourself strolling the greeting card aisle sometime today, you may even feel compelled to get this person in your life a trinket for celebrating the most romantic day of the year. Turns out, there are options available.
We have a shared account for bills and separate personal accounts, but when she has spent the money in her personal account she will just switch over to the shared account. I end up using my personal account for bills frequently. We've talked about this endlessly, we've looked at how much money we're spending, we've done budgets, but she just doesn't stick to it, and my personality does not lend itself to enforcement.
My New Year's resolution this year is to slow down with endings. To be more intentional about the last moments of coffee catch-ups, birthday parties, family visits, or even work Zooms. To go beyond bye and make space for appreciation and love. It's been harder than I anticipated. The reflexes of "nice to meet you," "good catching up," and "love you" are so ingrained that even when I feel more, sometimes much more, I settle for a wave.
She will leave notes on our bedroom door about how "loud" we are being or announce in public when my boyfriend and I are being intimate and how "gross and disgusting" it is. She will say this like she asked someone to pass the milk and seems pleased how embarrassed everyone gets. Her grandparents refuse to address this behavior and her grandmother even scolded me that we need to "keep it down."
That same night, he texted me and asked if he could see me again at the end of the week. He sent a restaurant and a time and asked if that was OK with my taste and schedule. I agreed. Over the next few days, he texted and called me, and we had good conversations. It all felt so intentional.
Please consider a change in attitude. You stated that your husband's children are polite and cordial with you. They may not dislike you as much as fear that getting too close to you might alienate their mother. Your husband should be able to invite his children into the home you share if he wishes, and the atmosphere should be as warm and welcoming as you can manage.
Touch fatigue, or what many parents call being "touched out," happens when your body and brain have reached their limit on physical contact. From the moment you wake up, little hands tug at you, babies nurse, toddlers climb into your lap, and someone always needs something from you. By evening, even a loving hug can feel like one more demand on a system that's already running on fumes.
