Everyone has a secrets they would rather keep to themselves. These secrets can be anything, from embarrassing to out right humiliating. No matter what it is, some people will never say anything for the rest of their lives. Just ask these people.
People on Reddit share the one secret they'll take to their grave. Content has been edited for clarity.
"I had a sweet, wonderful student who had been in foster care, but his mom worked her butt off to get him back and she did. He had to take a very important state exam, and she called me and asked if he passed it. I looked at the grades and saw he did and said so. She burst into tears of joy and that is when I saw I had read the wrong score.
He had failed.
So I changed his grade to passing. No one knew. That was the only time I ever did that. That could have cost me my license.
The weird thing is, when my awful corrupt principal pressured me to change other students' scores so we could raise our pass rate, I refused.
I never told anyone what I did for my student. He went into the military, was extremely successful there, has a great wife and kids, so I think I did the right thing.
Forget those tests. They aren't human."
"When I was a teenager, some friends and I got really stoned and walked around the town cemetery. There was a whole section of generic flat grave markers from the 1800s. I found myself trying to imagine their lives in the same town I lived so long ago. Then I saw one plate kind of sticking up and crooked, and I bent down to touch it. It wasn't attached at all, and I lifted it up in my hand. Right then, my stoned teenage brain decided to put it in my backpack. I thought I'd somehow honor this stranger more than the terrible grounds' keeper leaving it all willy-nilly in the middle of the aisle.
None of my friends saw what I did.
Cue hours later, sober, and the guilt and panic are setting in. I hid the plate in my closet for about a year before I chucked it back over the fence one day late at night. I hope Bessie Jane Holmes doesn't mind that I kept her for a while. I still think back and shudder at the guilt of such immoral stupidity."
"So my grandfather had a hand in making one of the World Series trophies back in the day. He never got any credit, but we have photos and parts from his prototype.
When I was a teen, I added what I knew to Wikipedia since why not? Proceed to a few years later, I get a call from my mom who's almost in tears (of joy). She found that wiki page and was freaking out. She was so happy he finally got 'credit.' She ended up making really fancy shadow boxes of the wiki page printed out, copies of the photos and other baseball stuff. She made one for each of her siblings.
I've had to just bite my tongue every time I go over there and see this thing hanging prominently in the living room."
"When I was a teenager my parents were divorced, yet lived within walking distance of each other. I would often times walk back and forth between their homes for whatever reason. I got to know a family that lived in the house on the corner of the block where my mother lived.
One day as I was passing this house, I noticed a wallet on the ground. I picked up and opened the wallet. I noticed the address on the ID was the house on the corner and it was the mom of the family, a very nice lady. Me being a teenager, took all of the money out of the wallet (about $50). I then went back to the home and returned the wallet, explaining I found it down the street. The mother was very relieved and grateful.
What always weighed on me is a few weeks later I passed the corner house as I often did and the lady stopped me. She wanted to thank me for returning the wallet and handed me a $50 bill. I tried to refuse it, but she insisted.
I was rewarded for stealing. While it’s not a big secret it is something I always think about for some reason."
"When I was an awkward tween, my brothers and I spent a lot of time at my grandparents house.
We had been raised by my grandparents since we were little kids, and even after my dad remarried, he and my stepmom both worked graveyard shift so we would spend the night at my grandparents’ house while my parents were at work.
One day, my grandmother informed me that it was my grandfather’s birthday and suggested that I wish him a happy birthday. He was downstairs in the living room sitting on the sofa, and I went up to him and gave him a big hug around the neck and said 'Happy Birthday, Grandpa.'
It was kind of difficult to hug a person sitting down, so I ended up kneeling on the sofa between his legs rather than trying to hug him from a standing position. He was quite happy and gave me a hug back. When I pulled back from the hug, he held me in his arms and gave me a big smile.
And then he put his tongue in my mouth.
Sometimes when I was a little kid we would kiss other family members on the mouth, but those were chaste pecks on the lips. I could tell immediately that this was different. His tongue was on my teeth. It lasted only for a moment and I was grossed out and confused when I pulled away. At that moment, my grandmother walked into the living room. I turned my head to look at her; my hands were still on my grandpa’s shoulders.
She seemed really happy that I had wished my grandfather a happy birthday like a good little kid. I gave him a final quick hug, and scrammed out of the room.
For the rest of my tween and teen years, I was always careful not to be alone in the same room with my grandfather. He passed away during my twenties, a good decade ahead of his time due to lifestyle-induced health issues, and my family chose me to speak at his funeral.
I had really complicated feelings about it because I did love him. My grandma and grandpa raised me, after all. Also, my grandfather was the rock of the family and after he passed away, the three branches (my dad and our family, plus his siblings and their families) gradually grew apart, and nothing was ever the same between us again. We don’t even spend Christmas all together anymore.
I’ve never told anyone in my family about it because I couldn’t break my grandmother’s heart. She’s survived her husband 10 years and still talks to and about him every day and visits his grave multiple times a week."
"I was a very naive teenager with irregular periods, and my friend thought it would be absolutely hilarious to buy those cheap pregnancy tests at Walmart and see what happened. We laughed the whole time, until one of them was positive. We couldn’t remember which was which, so we got two more and turns out it was mine. That was when it dawned on me that I had slept with someone. I panicked and swore my friend to secrecy.
I basically put it out of my mind until my clothes didn’t fit anymore. I was always close with my older cousin, and we were talking on the phone one night when she asked how school was going and I just dumped all of it on her. She came up with the perfect plan. It was already April and when I’d finally gotten the courage to go to Planned Parenthood they’d told me I was due in August. So my cousin called my mom, saying there was this amazing summer music program in her town that I just HAD to attend, and that I could stay with her the whole time. My mom thought it was great and the day after school ended, I got on a plane to San Francisco. I stayed with my cousin, she went to all of my appointments with me, and she helped me find a social worker and eventually my daughter’s parents. When I arrived back home before my junior year of high school started, my mom asked me how my summer was without really caring and then remarked that I must’ve lost a few pounds.
My cousin died in 2012 in a car accident, and no one else knew apart from that one friend, the doctors I saw in Oakland, and the people involved in the adoption. I get a photo and a letter about the child once a year, and I send money for her college and a card for her birthday every year. When she turns 16, her parents are allowed to give her the cards if she wants them, but they are not permitted to pass any contact information along. I have no interest in meeting her or getting to know her personally. I know she’s safe and comfortable and that’s all I want. I will die before I tell anyone about her, and if my friend were to spill the beans I would deny it."
"When I was a teenager around the age of 16, I dated a girl who, admittedly, I liked her more than she liked me. Anyways, we dated for seven or eight months, and I got to know her family pretty well and even kind of became friends with her family, mostly her aunt. Anyways it was high school, and kids are dumb and my girlfriend ended up sleeping with one of my friends, we broke up, as high school relationship go. I never received any closure and I wanted to do something petty to hurt her. Looking back on it, I still feel so ashamed.
Her aunt had always been friendly and even flirty with me, and so I called her as if I needed her to vent about the breakup. She was older than me by maybe 12 years or more but I was definitely the one emotionally manipulating the situation. I convinced her to come over when my parents weren't home and we talked for a while on the futon in my basement bedroom. We would have these long pauses where we would just sit in silence, during one of these long pauses she leaned her head on my shoulder and I took that as my opportunity to make my move, so I went in and kissed her.
Next thing I know, we're doing the deed, she's into it and I'm really into it and it was awesome. What I didn't know at the time was my ex's aunt was also going through a hard time; she had just found out her husband, my ex's uncle, had a brain tumor and was told he had only a few months to live. I didn't hear this news from the aunt however, no, I heard it from my ex when she called me looking for comfort when she learned about her uncle's tumor only days after we slept together.
He ended up passing a few weeks later, and my ex and I hooked back up after the funeral. That was over 10 years ago now, my ex and I are friends still and I live in constant fear that someday she'll find out that I slept her aunt weeks before her uncle died. It's something I can't forgive myself for so I'd never expect her to forgive me for it, it's my darkest secret and I regret it every day. Other than her aunt nobody else knows, I know her aunt will never tell a soul, and I intend on taking the secret to my grave."
"I finished having surgery, and had a post op appointment with my doctor up the hill. Had to go before that while driving up the hill. Figured I’d use the bathroom while in the office. I forgot I had to poop. Impossible as it seems. Well, I drive back down the hill when the bullet train hit my butt. I pulled over the side of the highway. Having no place to go, I grab the only thing nearby- a thin empty styrofoam box from Panda Express on the passenger seat. Things were moving fast. So fast in fact that I made my first mistake. I missed the box.
I had pooped all over the drivers seat of my car. I had been on antibiotics too so we’re not talking logs here. We’re talking full on mud pie, split pea soup. It freaking filled the seat. I am doing this acrobatic effort not to dip my butt back in the mess, and I somehow open the car door. I grab my phone and pop the trunk. After slamming the car door shut (important later), I run bare butt to the trunk of my car to grab a change clothes I had prayed for. Good thing I didn’t make that goodwill run yet.
God’s joke wasn’t quite over though. I walked back to the driver's door to realize my keys are locked inside the car with the engine running. So now to make matters worse, I now have to call a tow truck to unlock my car door. Now some Hank the tow truck guy has to stare at the abomination that I left in my seat. I was mortified. And he just stared at me with such bewilderment afterwards.
I hung my head and said 'It’s exactly what it seems.'
I’m sure that tow truck guy had one heck of a story when he got back home."
"After my last final of the semester, my friend dropped me off at the bus station where I parked my truck. I got in, and as I was about to start the engine, a woman knocked on my window. I opened the door.
She asked me if I could take her home. I tried making excuses that my parents were waiting for me, but she pled and wouldn't take no for an answer. So I let her in.
She hopped in the seat, and immediately her demeanor changed. She was ecstatic and began laughing in a crazy way. She introduced herself as Ashley and shook my hand, and that's when I noticed the hospital/mental asylum bands on her wrist. I knew I had made a mistake, but it was too late - she was already in my car.
I asked where she lived, and she told me to just drive off the lot and she'd tell me where to go. So I drove, and I let her give me directions until we ended up in a town I had never been to.
I knew we were lost, so I pulled into a McDonald's parking lot and asked her the name of her apartment. I typed it into my phone and realized we had driven 30 minutes in the wrong direction. It was about 1:30am at this point, so I decided to take the highway. This was the first time I had ever taken the highway.
We were driving and every five minutes, Ashley would fall asleep and then wake up suddenly. I was afraid one time she would wake up and grab the wheel or grab me, so I drove fast.
We finally got to her apartment, I dropped her off, and I drove home.
I've never told my parents, or else they would never let me out of the house again."
"I got harassed at a train station late at night, as a 15-year-old girl. These two girls, much bigger and older than me, randomly cornered me and started insulting me and my family. After about 15 minutes of hearing their trash talk, I saw my train arrive in the distance and I moved away from the girls towards the edge of the platform, so I could get on the train quicker. They tried to block me, and made an insult I don't even remember. It had something to do with me needing to apologize for being something.
I punched her in the face as hard as I could, with pure rage, but my punch still wasn't exactly hard as I had no strength or training. The girl I punched stumbled backwards, and just kept stumbling and stumbling, for over six meters, and nearly fell off the edge of the platform. The train arrived just as she nearly fell, and if she had fallen all the way she would have ended up between the train and the platform, or under the train. All because of one measly punch. There were no witnesses, no cameras, and I bolted out of there. To this day, I've only told people I was harassed that night and ran away, never that I was almost responsible for killing someone."
"After punching a hole through a desk over a failed GTA heist, I told my husband he needed to get help. He then threatened me. I replied therapy or divorce and police call if he threatened again. He went to one therapy appointment and a group anger management session, and pronounced himself cured. He was a stay at home dad for our four young children.
The day he died, he lost it on my six-year-old for having an accident on the way to the bathroom. He threw our child down the stairs into a closet and immediately went into the garage and hung himself.
I got a text, 'I'm sorry, I'm mentally gone.'
I was at work two hours away. He wouldn't answer the phone or respond to messages. When I got home and opened the garage, I found him. The kids were locked in the house, scared, and had been trying to break into the garage. They only saw the ladder. All they know is daddy went into the garage and had an accident. I will never tell them he killed himself, because they will internalize it as their fault. There is enough trauma inflicted by the loss of their father and his final interactions. No way am I going to compound this by allowing them to blame themselves in any way. Mental illness and suicide are hard enough to understand as an adult. I will carry this burden alone for them."
"Back in high school, I had a baseball teammate who didn’t see eye-to-eye with me on almost everything. We were the best players on the team, so for the sake of team unity, we both kept our mouths shut and played ball.
Junior year, we committed to universities in the same conference.
I heard during my freshman year of college that he was saying some unflattering things about my family (from a reliable friend who attended the same school as him). That was the tipping point, so I paid our starting pitcher $100 to hit this kid in the head when he came up to bat.
Well, my pitcher friend did his job, because he hit the kid in the back of the head with a 92.4 mph fastball. He was knocked unconscious and rushed to the hospital.
This happened this past spring, and the kid cannot play sports anymore and has to wear a hat and sunglasses outside still. He had to drop out because he couldn’t keep up academically anymore.
Honestly feel like an awful human now- never telling anyone about that. I started as a freshman at shortstop and batted third and played great but if my coach or AD found out, I would be cut immediately."
"My father (and his siblings) have a half-brother. My dad told me this because he thought I should know in case I get a surprise text from him or his children.
The story is that there was a couple at a bar, my grandfather was there with his friends having a good time, and the couple approaches him and asks if he’s willing to put a baby in the girl. The reason being that he was very handsome, but the only thing requested was that the baby would not know he had a different dad, which was agreed upon. My grandpa said yes, they did the deed, a baby was formed. Years later, he was in the hospital waiting for his own baby, when he sees the same couple walking out with a child that seemed to be the exact age as the time that had passed from the infamous night.
He told my dad since he could’ve been around the same age as the half-brothers children. Now I’m here, with this weird secret that only me and my dad know about, and we can’t tell anyone else in the family."
"I almost froze to death at a festival in my tent. I will never tell my mum of how serious it was, because she would get incredibly upset.
It all started with myself buying my friend drinks, and then losing him, so I decided I wouldn't waste the perfectly good drinks, so I drank them myself. Note that I was already pretty hammered at this stage, but that set me over the edge. Can't remember much after that, except faded memories of me taking a rest in random spots of the site and a couple of pictures with strangers on my phone.
The next thing I know I'm waking up in my tent, outside my sleeping bag with a t-shirt on shaking like crazy. I wasn't able to move either, which was even more terrifying, so I called out to my friend the best I could by mumbling incoherently. Luckily, he heard and rushed in to help. Then a couple of minutes later medics took my shivering, half limp body across the campsite and into the medical tent.
I'm still not sure if any of this was due to the drinking. They took my blood three times as nothing would come out (I'm told your blood rushes to the vital organs when exposed to that much cold). Eventually after half an hour, I was okay to go back, and I haven't fully mentally recovered from it. Told my mum that I drank too much and went to the tent because I was a bit too cold, but I'm pretty sure if I hadn't woken up from that sleep I wouldn't have woken up at all."