Reddit's r/AmItheAsshole (AITA) has rapidly become a cultural barometer, with people worldwide submitting personal anecdotes and asking the internet to judge their behavior.

The subreddit’s premise is straightforward yet profoundly revealing about human nature: users describe relationship scenarios and ask, “Am I the asshole?” (or often abbreviated, AITA).

The community then decides: "YTA" (You're the asshole), "NTA" (not the asshole), "ESH" (Everyone sucks here), or "NAH" (No assholes here).

What’s fascinating—and occasionally alarming—is the depth of relationship patterns AITA lays bare.

Let’s delve deeper into the recurring themes, cultural insights, and social science implications found in AITA submissions.

Once upon a time, turning 40 meant buying a convertible, contemplating yoga, and maybe signing up for an overpriced mindfulness retreat. But today’s 40-somethings aren’t just having midlife crises—they’re experiencing midlife grief.

Not the kind triggered by existential dread over wrinkles, but grief that is very real, tangible, and often overwhelming.

This generation is being pummeled by loss—of parents, of dreams, of financial stability, and even of a coherent sense of identity in a world that seems to be reshaping itself every five minutes.

The grief of 40-somethings today isn’t just personal; it’s cultural, economic, and deeply systemic.

Let’s unpack why this cohort is feeling the weight of loss more profoundly than those before them—and why it’s colliding headfirst with the dominant cultural force of our time: cultural narcissism.

There was a time when teenagers accused their parents of being "unfair," "out of touch," or, in particularly dramatic moments, "literally ruining their lives."

But thanks to TikTok’s viral obsession with narcissistic personality disorder (NPD), a growing number of teens are now diagnosing their parents as full-blown narcissists—and it’s creating a new kind of family tension.

Welcome to NarcTok, the corner of TikTok where every emotionally unavailable dad, strict mom, and slightly dismissive parent is suddenly a textbook narcissist.

Have you ever told yourself, just five more minutes of TikTok, only to emerge from your doomscrolling coma an hour later, blinking at the clock like you’ve just time-traveled?

Congratulations, you’re experiencing the wonders of dopamine—a tiny neurotransmitter with a giant influence over your life choices, attention span, and late-night existential crises.

In the great digital petri dish of social media, neurodiverse relationships are evolving in ways both fascinating and only occasionally mildly dystopian.

It turns out, when you connect billions of people through glowing rectangles, strange and wonderful things happen. Some of those things, miraculously, are even good. Others? A grand social experiment in real-time identity formation.

The Great Gathering of the Neurodivergent Tribes

Once upon a time, neurodivergent souls had to navigate the minefield of social interaction in person, where things like "eye contact" and "tone of voice" could make or break an entire relationship.

But now, thanks to the magic of the Internet, there exist sprawling digital landscapes where one can build meaningful relationships through memes, Discord servers, and long, heartfelt Twitter threads about executive dysfunction.

Welcome to the algorithmic family.

Once upon a time, families fought about curfews and who got the last slice of pizza. Now, they fight about excessive screen time, doomscrolling, and why Dad keeps posting Minion memes on Facebook.

Welcome to the 21st century, where social media has rewritten the rules of human interaction, including the delicate ecosystem of family life.

As a couples therapist, I watch social media function as both a relationship catalyst and a nuclear device. What once passed for passive-aggressive holiday dinners has been refined into a digital art form—subtweets, vaguebooking, and emoji-laden guilt trips.

But before we all resign ourselves to dystopian family group chats, let's examine three ways social media is reshaping family therapy and how we might, against all odds, still survive it.

High school: a time for acne, awkward dances, and, of course, that one relationship you’re sure will last forever.

But let's face it—between math tests and proposals, high school relationships can be as fleeting as a Snapchat streak.

So, what percentage of high school relationships actually make it past graduation?

Buckle up for some surprising stats and solid social science research as we delve into the reality of young love.

Hello, gentle readers. Let’s take a thoughtful look at two very different approaches to meeting people in today’s world: the fast-paced realm of digital dating and the increasingly appealing world of organic connection.

While dating apps have made meeting new people convenient, many feel that these platforms can sometimes turn romance into a somewhat transactional experience.

On the other hand, more and more people are turning back to traditional, in-person interactions—those unplanned moments in everyday settings that have the power to spark something real.

Hello, gentle readers! Today, we’re taking a deep dive into a topic that might just melt your heart and tickle your funny bone: the wonder of everyday kindness in relationships.

Forget the grand romantic gestures that Hollywood loves to parade—real, lasting love is built on the small things.

Whether it’s a shared playlist, a perfectly timed meme, or that “good morning” text that makes your day, these micro-acts of affection are the secret sauce to relationship resilience.

In this post, we’ll explore two perspectives that celebrate these everyday moments: Dr. John Gottman’s evidence-based notion of “small things often” and the modern, digital-age twist known as micro-mance.

We’ll also spotlight the work of Howard J. Markman and other researchers who have shown that these tiny acts of kindness really do add up over time.

In today’s digital age, dating isn’t merely about finding love or companionship—it’s also a performance of social status.

One of the most talked-about trends in modern romance is “throning,” where folks leverage relationships with socially prominent or influential partners to boost their own standing.

This phenomenon, while reimagined for the era of social media, has deep historical roots and echoes in popular culture.

Hello, creative thinkers and digital storytellers!

Today, we’re embarking on a deep dive into how neurodivergent communities are redefining communication through vivid, visual storytelling.

Beyond the catchy hashtags and viral memes lies a transformative movement that harnesses art, humor, and personal narrative to express complex experiences.

Let’s explore how this neurodivergent vernacular is not only changing online dialogues but also reshaping cultural narratives around identity and cognition.

For decades, evolutionary psychologists have insisted that men and women have hardwired mate preferences, as if our great-great-great-grandparents chiseled their dating profiles into cave walls.

Men, we’re told, chase beauty like magpies after shiny things, while women gravitate toward financial stability like shrewd investment bankers evaluating a long-term portfolio.

But recent research suggests this age-old story might need a revision—especially when feminist beliefs enter the equation.

A new study published in Sex Roles by Wareham, Pákozdy, and Brown (2025) challenges the idea that gender equality messaging can sway mate selection.

Instead, it finds that deep-seated feminist beliefs—not momentary reminders of gender progress—are the real game-changers in how people evaluate potential partners.