We all have our own personal collection of skeletons in the closet, things we are not proud of, and an assortment of dirty little secrets. Sometimes, as best as we try they eventually come to light. Check out this collection of scandalous and juicy secrets these folks will take to their graves and only ever share anonymously.

I tell everyone the reason I do beekeeping as a hobby is because I want the honey and to help prevent colony collapse. The real reason I started to is because my mother-in-law is extremely allergic to them and now she won't come near my home anymore.

I know this sounds weird but when I worked at Starbucks, there was a regular customer that was very difficult. I was warned of this customer on my first day of training. She came in every morning and would try to rush the workers on doing their job and makes other customers feel uncomfortable. 3 months into working, she came in one morning and caused absolute chaos. She was complaining about her drink while one of my coworkers was making the drink. As soon as she got it she accidentally “spills” it and asks for a completely different drink.

I was so fed up. She wanted a Frappuccino. She went to the bathroom while we were making the new order. I switched with my coworker and made the drink. Instead of almond milk I made the Frappuccino with regular milk. The drink was ready by the time she left the bathroom. She takes the drink and takes a sip and didn’t complain. 5 hours later she calls Starbucks from the hospital and I was the one who picked up. She got in a car accident trying to rush to a bathroom. She said she sh*tted her pants. I couldn’t be anymore happier that she was safe but got her karma.

So I have a beloved kitty named pixy. She was around 4 when I found her on the street. She had a rubber band tightened on half her tail. I spent 2 weeks feeding her until she was comfortable enough to let me near her, she didn't trust anyone. I took her in, cleaned her up, and got the dead portion of her tail amputated.

After 5 years, she finally warmed up to people and she became so sweet and friendly. It took her years to be comfortable around strangers. Last month, she was out for her daily stroll around the neighborhood and immediately came back in through the kitty door 20 minutes later. Usually, she is out and about for 2-3 hours. She had 2 small holes in her chest, and one near her butt. She was completely frightened and was crying/meowing, she wouldn't even let me go near her for the first 5 minutes. I knew for certain that she was shot with metal bb's.I take her in my car and start driving to the vet, but took a quick detour around the neighborhood, I was going to take the long way to see if I could find the culprit. Sure enough,

I see a kid on a scooter standing on his driveway, with a Co2-powered bb gun, aiming at the drainage cavity by the sidewalk. I see cats in there all the time. It was then I knew who the culprit was.I parked the car, got out, walked over to him, and said "I'm telling your parents that you are shooting cats." He replied, "they are pests, they told me I could." The smug little look on his face threw me over the edge, I slapped the f*ck outta this b**ch, and kick swept his legs out from under him, and watched him fall flat on his a*s. I then picked up his gun and smashed it on the ground. A small part of me wanted to finish him off with a stomach kick for good measure, but I'm f**king 25 so I looked both ways before crossing the street, and f*cking bolted. As I hopped in my car and sped away, I heard him shrieking in the distance. My kitty was treated, and is doing OK. She is a lot more skittish and spends less time outside.

My mom has really had a hard time the past few years. When she entered menopause she gained weight and no matter how much she works out or what diet she tries she cannot drop it. She is a wonderful person, beautiful inside and out, but I could tell it was really taking a toll on her.
So I started (lightly) photoshopping pictures I take of her before I send them to anyone or print them. I just nip a little here and there, slight reshaping. and smoothing out a few wrinkles, nothing drastic, but enough. Since I started this she has started acting more confidently and has stopped making negative remarks about the pictures she is in. She loves being in pictures with everyone again. It has really helped. I have not told anyone and never will.

I save my sons Mc Donald's wrappers and happy meal boxes then reuse them by serving him microwave chicken nuggets and oven French fries in them. I even throw in ketchup packets and a little toy he'd forgotten he had to help sell the lie. He loves it. And I'm not sorry.

I fall asleep watching my boyfriend's YouTube channel so he gets more views on his videos because it makes me happy how excited he gets about more views.

I was diagnosed with cancer a little over two weeks ago, after a regular checkup. Turns out I have a tumor on my colon that has spread to other areas (liver and lungs so far) and will require extensive chemo and surgery for any chance to live longer than 8 monthsI'm not having any treatment and I haven't told my wife because she'll only pressure me to get the treatment, which results in months of pain and suffering for a relatively small chance instead.

I'm making sure our last few months together are filled with only happy memories. I'm starting work later and finishing earlier each day, to make her breakfast in bed and take her on dates in the evenings. My landlord, who I rent my workshop from has agreed to let me run my business rent-free for the next 6 months, which means significantly less financial stress and I can save a lot more, so she has something to carry her over afterward, I hope she'll forgive me for taking this path.

I put $5 to $10 a week in my clothes. He thinks he is getting one over on me because we both have a weekly budget. He doesn't know that he is part of my budget. If I even try to do the laundry he is like "No, I got it" Worth every red cent.

This is probably the pettiest thing I have ever done, and I regret it to this day. When I was fifteen years old, I got my first job and started to have some money of my own. I used my money to spoil myself and purchased nicer things like clothes, shoes, makeup, and salon-brand shampoo. My brother used to sneak into my bathroom and constantly steal my nice shampoo. He would use them and most of the time he would leave them open in the bathtub.

This would result in the rest of the shampoo going down the drain and leaving me with empty containers. This drove me completely insane and I hated him for taking my things. I tried to speak with my parents about this, but they told me that I should just learn to share. One day I went out and purchased hair removal cream. I mixed this into my shampoo bottle and left it in my bathroom. I gave him a verbal warning not to use my newly purchased bottle, but he stole it again anyway.

Over the next few days, his hair slowly started to fall out and small bald patches started to appear. Seeing what I had done I immediately emptied the remaining shampoo. I felt terrible and I truly didn’t think it would have an as dramatic effect as it did. My mother took him to the doctor to get checked out and they diagnosed him with Alopecia. He then had to start using this special and terrible-smelling shampoo to combat this. His hair did grow back but I just recently found out that he is still using the shampoo in order to prevent another Alopecia flair-up. It has been 15 years now and I have never told my brother that I caused him to lose his hair.

At a party in high school i found a bottle of vitamin C pills in the bathroom and decided to tell other drunk kids that it was ecstasy and sold it to them for $20 a pill. I ended up leaving with about $200

Yeah, I cheated. I didn’t write any of my papers, I didn’t do any of the work myself. I stole a lot of work. Took only classes anyone I knew did and used all their work for it with minor changes. I made it through 6 years and got two degrees.

I got a scholarship out of high school by cheating, I cheated during the SAT, I cheated most of my life and I feel a little bad but not really. Thanks to a couple of real ones for holding it down for me, wouldn’t have made it this far without you.

I registered a company, bought all the take-away boxes from Amazon, signed up for a few delivery apps, made a few social media accounts and printed leaflets that I drop in mailboxes. I re-sell microwave meals...On some meals I add something to make them look better, like cheese. So far it’s at around £200 a day in revenue.Nobody suspects a thing, soon someone will come for hygiene inspection, but I’ll pass that check without any problems. It’s not illegal to operate out of your own kitchen.Should I feel bad? I feel kind of proud to be fair and free as a bird from the 9-5 life.

When i was 19-20 years old I was looking for jobs and could not find any and people would tell me to build a nice resume. The problem was, I did not know how to do it so I posted fake jobs on internet and would get resumes. I used those resumes to build my own using the skills that I liked on their resumes. I could also tell who was competing with me for those jobs that I posted. I feel bad for those people that thought it was genuine and applied.I am 33 now and have a nice job. Those resumes truly did help me build my career.

Many years ago, I was standing on one of my balconies when a taxi driver was obnoxiously blowing his horn out front and yelling for a blind man to "walk toward my voice" from his own townhouse. That direction was toward traffic. My roommate and I went down and helped him to the taxi and scolded the driver for being so rude. I made the mistake of giving the blind neighbor my phone number so that I could give him a ride in the future.

Then the phone calls came... and never stopped. And when I gave him a ride, he would ask for various detours. I'm very calculated by nature, if he had told me beforehand where he wanted to go, it would be cool, but no... we'd be driving along and he'd throw in 2 - 3 extra places on each ride. And it came to be every day that he wanted rides... and he'd even call me to remind me to give him a ride, not that was ever late or backed out. Finally I had enough, so I gauged how blind he was. His response was that he was "blind as a bat". A week or two after he said that I told him I had a job interview in the next city. A week after that, I told him I got the job and was moving away in a month. After I "moved away" It was strange as hell walking by him in silence as he stood on the sidewalk.

My boss is generally a d*ck.I noticed his wife (who also works at the company) came up as a recommended friend on Snapchat, I copied the user name and added her on my burner Snapchat.After a few messages and a few fake selfies she has told me she is single and sent some damn good reveling pictures.I feel a bit guilty now but damn she is hot.

I worked at a fast food chain in the 90's when I was in high school. When I worked there they were in the process of phasing out denominational gift certificates. ($5, $10 & $25) The way is worked was if you spent more than half of the certificate they gave you the cashback. So if you ordered $5.50 worth of food and gave them one of the $10 gift cards, they gave you the $4.50 back in cash. My manager was in charge of destroying all the existing certificates as we transitioned to the more traditional credit card-looking gift cards. So my manager said he shredded the certificates like he was supposed to, but one night when I was closing I found two boxes of the gift cards tucked deep in the dry storage room.

They were FILLED with the certificates that were supposed to be shredded. So, I scooped them up, brought them out to the dumpster in trash bags, and threw them away. After we closed, I came back and recovered the back, and brought the certificates home. I counted them. There were 1,000 $25, 1,000 $10, and 500 $5 certificates. None of them had expiration dates. The total haul was $40K in fast food certificates. My manager never said a word, he couldn't. He had reported them destroyed weeks earlier. Over the next three years, my girlfriend and I toured every location in our state, and the next 4 states ordering food and getting the change. We never kept track on a spreadsheet or anything, but we got good at knowing what menu items were just about half. After the first year, we started saving the change in a shoe box, and let it build up.I bought my first car for $7,800 cash from the change. And for some reason, A kiddie cone was $1.05, if you gave them a $5 cert they gave you $3.95 back. We threw away a lot of kiddie cones.

The wife came onto me first but I didn't sleep with her out of respect for her husband, til he messaged me on grindr and I realized they're as bad as each other and I may as well have some fun with it. I even popped the husband's bootyhole cherry. I might tell them one day but ehhh the sex is fun.

It’s 2011, I’m in Year 7, it’s my first year in high school and I got sent somewhere where I literally only knew one person, and we never spoke. A few months into the year and I’m sitting in Math class and this one girl who I just could not stand (and who also bullied me on and off) kept just interrupting for the stupidest of things, and just generally kept getting on my nerves the whole lesson. Partway through the lesson, the teacher tells us to leave our things in the classroom so we could go to the computer lab, and I was the last to leave the classroom.

Note that most kids hid their iPods under their pencil cases during class so they could get away with using it, and I knew for a fact she’d left it there. I don’t know what possessed me to steal her iPod, but I did. She never found out. But now, I leave school, the iPod is still in my shorts pocket. Nobody knows what I’ve done. The girl thinks one of the guys was screwing with her and doesn’t suspect me at all. Now the one defining feature of her iPod was that the back was completely covered in small circle stickers. Ones that had gotten so worn down they’d almost fused with the device. So I did what I could and I scrubbed those f*ckers off until it looked brand new. I didn’t use it at all, in fear of my mum seeing it and screaming at me for being a thief. So it just sat in my room gathering dust, until about a month later I overhear her asking some people if they know anyone selling an iPod.One week later and I’d made $150 by selling a girl her own iPod that’d just been factory reset and scrubbed.

Back in high school I used to work the concession stand. In my school the booth was a little folding table where I would sell water, pop and chips.To anyone that was a visiting team I would charge $.25-.50 more on the items they wanted to buy, and I would keep it.I ended up making somewhere around $3,000 doing this for my high school career, and no one ever found out because I didn’t charge anyone from the home team the same amount.

So back when I was ten my dad asked me if I wanted to make 20$. I accepted. The catch I had to sh*t on our neighbors door step. It was clear my dad had beef with this woman. She woke in the morning and tried to blame our Chihuahua. My dad yelled at her saying that the sh*t was bigger then our dog. Impossible. The point is I don’t feel bad. Forever daddy’s girl.

When I was in junior high and it was perfectly fine to go door to door and ask for donations for sporting events and stuff, my sister had a typewriter and I would make up a fake sign-up form and ask for donations to a team going somewhere with my school. Easily [made] [one] hundred bucks in one day. Never forgave myself lol

This is something I’ve never admitted to a single person.I’m not sure at what age I stopped doing this, but throughout most of my childhood I had this OCD compulsion where every time I would finish wiping I would stand up, walk over to the towel rack and give it one or two more thorough swipes. I couldn’t not do it. I felt unclean if I didn’t.It wasn’t until I got a little older that I realized just how messed up it was. My older siblings spent their entire childhoods drying their faces off with my shi**y remains.I’ve been mortified about it for years but I’m actually in tears of laughter writing this out right now.

Title basically says it all. This wasn’t a professional organized competition. There was some bmx event with a couple hundred people and they always have a chili cook off. I’m not much for cooking so I thought it would be funny to throw a bunch of Wendy’s chili in a crock pot and see if anyone noticed - they didn’t.I’ve been a vegetarian for roughly twelve years so this was a long time ago.

I hear stories like this a lot but I wasn’t even that young, 14-15 and over the course of 2 years I spent $2000 on riot points. so stupid of me. The card was linked to my account and ten dollars, then twenty, then hundreds, there and boom $2000.mom and dad I'm sorry.

When I was 9 my older cousin (14) stayed with me and my family for a couple of weeks. My cousin was a troublemaker and her parents had hoped that sending her to ours would keep her out of trouble for a little while. One day while she was over I asked if we could go to one of our local forest areas and make a fire to roast marshmallows. When we got down there we made a little makeshift campfire out of newspaper and sticks all on top of a rock.

Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me and I started chucking different things into the fire. Leaves, sticks, pinecones, anything I could find in the little area we were in. Then I wondered what a leaf on a tree would do if we set fire to it. My cousin got her lighter and lit a small leaf on a nearby tree. I stared at the reaction in awe and my cousin set a group of leaves on fire. We laughed as we watched the fire slowly engulf the branch. Once the fire burnt itself out we carried on setting fire to bushes and branches and then we realized that the fire wasn't dying out. In fact, it was spreading.

My cousin started to freak out as she realized the fire wasn't stopping. The summer heatwave had made everything so dry that it was catching fire extremely quickly. She grabbed my hand and we ran to the dirt road that was on the outskirts of the forest. But instead of calling 999 we just stood there. Watching it as it spread and spread and spread. My cousin almost called them multiple times but I kept telling her I didn't want to get into trouble so she never did. It had eventually spread so much that the fire department had trouble controlling it and had to order an evacuation of a nearby village. It was said to be the biggest fire the town had seen in 150 years. No one was hurt but it did take 10 hours to get under control. It wouldn't have been as bad if hadn't stopped my cousin from calling 999 when we first lost control. Both I and my cousin had promised not to tell a soul but 12 years on and my guilt is still here, I still feel terrible about it.

I was definitely smart in school. I was the type of student who I could take an exam and score [an] A without any time spent studying. But when it came to homework, I would do anything to avoid it, and I figured out a creative way to get myself through all of my tough classes without any critical thinking. The way my high school worked was everyone in the school had a [G]oogle account that all of your assignments were supposed to be turned in through. The username had the same criteria for everyone: the first two letters of your first name, the last four of your last name, and your graduating year.

The password was your student ID number followed by the school district. Once I realized that I could easily figure out my classmates' ID numbers without suspicion, life was a breeze. I’d make friends with a smart kid, pull out my student ID card and make fun of my photo on it. Then I’d ask to see what theirs looked like and sneakily take a picture to remember their number. Other kids would have their card hooked to their backpacks or they’d have to take it out to buy lunch in the cafeteria and I’d take photos of it that way. I had about 10 of my most hardworking peers' accounts saved on my computer and all of their final work was my rough draft. I’d jazz it up to add my own personal flair, and change it a decent amount to the point where it was nearly impossible for a teacher to notice a similarity between our assignments and often turn it in to get a better grade than what they did. I ended up ranking top 15 of my class, was in the National Honors Society, and won awards in a few of my classes. I’ve never told anyone before and I’m definitely not proud of it, but I’m not sure that I would’ve graduated otherwise.

I was 18. I had a sign that said I got kicked out for being a lesbian. One time a gay person on broadway gave me 100 bucks. I just wanted to make enough to wander around Europe. The day I got my visa, I got robbed and took it as a sign to stop. I’m really sorry, gay community.

I used to work for this job where we drove trucks around. On one day, I was driving a truck and I had to squeeze in between a small gate. I got through the gate fine, however on the way back I scratched the left side of the car. I didn’t report it because I didn’t think anyone would notice it. A couple of days later, I get called into my boss’ office and they have me fill out a report saying that I didn’t know about this damage and I drove the truck before it happened.

Apparently, someone else drove the truck after me and it got reported while they were driving it. It was also his third strike and he got fired after that. I never told anyone that I caused the damage to the car. I didn’t think someone would get fired cuz of my damage. I worked at that job for another six months knowing I got some dude fired and I would feel bad when they would bring him up and say that they miss him. Well, I don’t feel that bad. I didn’t cause the two strikes before it.

I’ve been a driver for a couple months and I only do it 1-2 times a week for 6-7 hours and make around 230ish after gas. That being said, I get thirsty and hungry af towards the end. Sometimes I will simply hide the drink and 50% of the time they notice and call or text and I will tell them they can contact DoorDash for a refund or voucher, the other times I get no response. I also still have a 5 star rating.