It’s uplifting to witness women supporting each other, whether it’s friends offering help or strangers extending support to those they’ve never met. In this story, a woman quietly left a letter for her ex-boyfriend’s future girlfriend, offering a heads-up about what to anticipate and sharing lessons from her own experience. The new girlfriend shared this moving act of solidarity on Reddit, where she received an outpouring of encouragement and advice from the online community.
She wrote:
“My boyfriend Steve (30m) and I (28f) have been together for 2 years and have been living together for 8 months. I was cleaning our apartment when I found a note in the back of a cabinet that read:
‘Dear Steve’s Future Girlfriend,
I know it’s you reading this because he’d never clean back here. I’m putting this here because I’m leaving him soon and want to warn you about him:
1-He will not clean;
2-He will not listen;
3-He will make everything feel like it’s your fault;
It’s not your fault, he’s just an incompetent man. I’m leaving him, I suggest you do the same.
Best wishes, Natalia'”
She added:
“I read the note and brought it to show to him and hear his response. He immediately ripped it up and said not to listen to it, that she was crazy and untrustworthy. I told him that the fact that he hasn’t found the note in the 5 years since they broke up is a red flag to me because it does mean he’s never cleaned back there and that he has been cleaning less and less since I moved in.
He told me this is just his ex continuing to manipulate and ruin his life, and I was letting it work. We continued to argue along the same lines, and I eventually left to spend the night at a friend’s place.
Steve has been a great boyfriend so far. He gets along with my family. He has given me gifts and flowers and always tells me how much he loves me. He’s not wrong that the cleaning hasn’t really been brought up before, but the note made me realize it had been less and less and that we needed to have a full conversation about this.”
She went on explaining:
“He texted me afterwards saying he’s sorry that I felt like I had to leave, but that it’s a wrong move for me to take a note over our 2-year relationship and to leave him and our pets alone. I don’t know what to do or what to believe right now. I’m contemplating trying to find and reach out to Natalia.
Steve thinks I should come back home and let it go, that his past should not affect our future. He makes it sound like his ex was manipulative and petty throughout their relationship, but I don’t know what to trust.
When we moved in together 8 months ago, the cleaning was 50/50. Since then, he’s been doing things less and less. I have to remind him to do things like to bring his plates to the sink or take out the trash, and I didn’t have to before. The dishes will pile up unless I do them, to the point he’s had leftover food mold on the plates.”
She continued:
“I’m not a confrontational person, so I was just asking him to fix it when it came up. The note made me reflect on it more and try to have an actual full conversation, and I will say I didn’t feel listened to when I talked to him about it.
I tried to use the note to start a conversation about cleaning, and he got so stuck on the fact that I was listening to his ex instead of him, that he wouldn’t listen to what I think are valid concerns. He thinks I’m letting the note have “confirmation bias” so no matter what he says I’ll think he’s in the wrong.
Also, I didn’t leave him permanently, this all happened yesterday and I only spent one night at a friend’s because I didn’t feel like our conversation was going anywhere last night, and he wouldn’t let me sleep until I let it go. I’m going back today and wanted to get advice and feedback before I do.”
Other Redditors chimed in, sharing their own insights and offering advice to her.
- I’m so glad for you. It wasn’t two wasted years since they taught you a valuable lesson. I’m especially grateful for Natalia! Please tell her we love her for her kind solidarity and witty ways. Absolutely, leave a note — but better yet, leave two. One in the same place (he’ll look there; manipulative narcissists aren’t that dumb), and another in an even less likely spot. Sending you my best. You got this, girl! © occasionalpart / Reddit
- Well, he’s not cleaning, he’s not listening to you, and he’s making it out to be your fault “for trusting a note over him.” So, it seems the ex’s assessment might be accurate. It doesn’t look like he’s open to discussing his poor housekeeping, and personally, I don’t think you’ll be able to address it now without the note coming up. Ultimately, it’s up to you to decide whether this is something you can tolerate. It seems he hasn’t learned anything from his last relationship. © VonBoo / Reddit
- You’ve been living together for less than a year, and you’re already having to play mommy, reminding him of basic chores and daily tasks! If Natalia were truly such a manipulative, crazy person, she would have made much harsher and more dramatic accusations than these. © Arya_kidding_me / Reddit
- It’s almost ironic how easy it would have been for him to shut this entire thing down with the simplest of responses: “Hmm, you’re right, I’ll make sure to clean more.” That would have immediately countered points 2 and 3. But he’d rather be right, and he’d rather play the aggrieved party. You didn’t do anything wrong by trying to have a conversation off the back of that note. His reaction should tell you everything. © Mobius_Stripping / Reddit
- I’d be willing to bet money that the note is right. He sounds like the kind of man who will stop doing anything the second he decides a woman is fully trapped. The slow tapering off you’re witnessing is him testing the waters. He needs to figure out whether he just needs to waste enough of your time to get to that stage, or whether you need a ring or a baby to feel trapped. © Extension_Drummer_85 / Reddit
- “Don’t expect to change a man unless he’s in diapers.” This behavior will continue on, he’s gotten away with it before up to a certain point. He wants someone to pick up after him like his mommy.
Any time a guy says, “My ex is/was crazy,” is a MASSIVE red flag right there. It’s something guys have been saying since the dawn of time to belittle their former partners. He’ll say the same thing about you to his next girlfriend. You have to ask yourself, “Was she crazy, or did he drive her crazy with his behavior and laziness?” I’d leave your own note when you do finally dump him. And reach out to his ex, see what she has to say. © Equal-Brilliant2640 / Reddit
When trust is broken between couples, it often leads to a surge of emotional and psychological turmoil, including feelings of uncertainty and profound confusion. In a different scenario, a woman shared a fascinating story of her own sleuthing skills. She discovered her husband was cheating simply by paying close attention to his breakfast order.
My Mom Put My Car Into Her Storage Unit to Punish Me – When I Saw What Else She Was Hiding There, I Went Pale
I craved adventure and freedom, but it came at the cost of my mother’s tears. One day, she put my car in her storage unit to punish me for coming home late. I did what any 17-year-old boy would do. I stole the keys to the unit to retrieve my car, but what I found hidden there shattered my heart like glass.
Do you love your mother? What a silly question to ask! I often dreaded coming home, you know. Mom’s questions fired at me the moment I walked in. “Where were you, Eddie? Why are you late? Bla bla bla!” I couldn’t understand why she was suffocating me with her constant concern. If only I’d known then what I know now, I would’ve given anything to hear her scold me again.
Portrait of a sad teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
It was the autumn of 2021. I was 17, craving adventure and independence. Every day, it was the same routine. I’d barely get my key in the lock before my mom Charlotte’s voice would ring out from inside.
“Eddie? Is that you?”
I’d brace myself, knowing what was coming next. The moment I stepped through that door, she’d be there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, brimming with tears.
God, not again! I’d roll my eyes.
A teary-eyed woman | Source: Midjourney
“I was worried sick, and you don’t even care. How could you be so irresponsible?”
The questions came rapid-fire, each one making me feel smaller, more suffocated. I’d try to answer, but my words always seemed to fall short.
“I was just out with friends, Mom. We lost track of time.”
“Lost track of time? Eddie, you know better than that. This is unacceptable. You need to start taking me seriously.”
An annoyed teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney
“I’m 17, Mom. You don’t need to worry about me every second.”
But she did worry. Every. Single. Second. A lot lately. Weird. And it was driving me crazy.
I didn’t understand then. How could I?
I was too caught up in my own world, too eager for freedom to see what was really happening. But looking back now, I wish I’d paid more attention. I wish I’d seen the fear behind her questions, the love behind her worry.
Because soon enough, I’d understand why she held on so tight. And when I did, it broke my heart.
A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
The day everything changed started like any other. I came home late, way past curfew. Mom was waiting in the living room, the dim light casting shadows across her face.
“Eddie, we need to talk about this.”
I sighed, dropping my backpack by the door. “Mom, please. Not tonight. I’m tired.”
“You’re tired? I’ve been up for hours, wondering where you were and if you were safe. I haven’t eaten a thing because I was so worried about you.”
“I’m fine, okay?” I snapped. “Why do you always have to make such a big deal out of everything?”
A frustrated teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney
She flinched, and for a moment, I saw something in her eyes. Hurt, maybe, or disappointment. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by anger.
“You’re grounded,” she sternly said. “And I’m taking your car keys.”
“What? Mom, you can’t do that!” I protested, but she had already turned away.
“We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
I stomped up to my room, slamming the door behind me. I didn’t know it then, but that would be the last time I’d slam a door in her face.
A boy gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, my car was gone. Just gone. I ran back inside, panic rising in my throat.
“Mom! My car’s missing!”
She looked up from her coffee, her face calm. “I moved it, Eddie. You’ll get it back when you start showing some responsibility.”
I couldn’t believe it. “You can’t just take my car! Grandma gave it to me! You have no right—”
“I’m your mother. I’m doing what’s best for you.”
I stormed back to my room, furious and determined to get my car back. That’s when I hatched my plan. I knew she had a storage unit. It had to be there.
A boy storming upstairs | Source: Midjourney
I waited until she left for a doctor’s appointment, then snuck into her room to find the keys. It felt wrong, but my anger overshadowed my guilt.
I had to get my freedom back. My car was my pride and love. It was my everything.
When I reached the storage unit, I felt a surge of triumph. I’d show her. I’d get my car and prove I could be responsible.
But when I opened that door, I FROZE.
A startled teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
Boxes. Dozens of them. Gift-wrapped. All neatly labeled with my name and future dates?
My stomach dropped as I read the labels: “18th birthday,” “Graduation,” “First job,” “Wedding,” and “Baby Shower?”
With shaking hands, I opened the box marked for my 18th birthday. Inside was a brown leather jacket, the exact one I’d been eyeing for months. How did she know?
I reached for another box, this one labeled “Graduation.” It was full of letters, all addressed to me, all in her handwriting.
A pile of gift-wrapped boxes | Source: Midjourney
The truth hit me hard as I sat there on the cold concrete floor, surrounded by pieces of a future Mom had carefully planned for me.
The doctor’s appointments. The exhaustion. The way she’d been holding on so tight.
Mom was sick. Really sick.
My eyes welled up as I pieced it all together. She wasn’t punishing me. She was PREPARING. Preparing for a time when she wouldn’t be here to see these milestones.
A teary-eyed teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
I don’t know how long I sat there, crying among the boxes of my future. All I know is that when I finally left that storage unit, I wasn’t the same person who had entered it.
I hurried home in a daze, my anger replaced by a crushing guilt. How could I have been so blind? So selfish?
I slipped quietly into the house, returning her keys as if I’d never touched them.
The anger that had consumed me for weeks was gone, replaced by guilt. I’d been so wrapped up in my own problems that I’d completely missed what was happening right in front of me.
A key hung on a holder | Source: Midjourney
Later that night, Mom was in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove. She looked up, surprise flickering across her face.
“Eddie? I thought you’d be out with friends.”
I crossed the room in three strides and wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tighter than I had in years.
“Eddie? What’s wrong?”
I pulled back, looking into her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong, Mom. I just… I love you. You know that, right? After Dad left us, you were my rock.”
A teary-eyed woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
She cupped my face in her hands, her eyes searching mine. “Awwww, of course, I know that, sweetie. I love you too. And I’ll always be your rock, okay?”
I helped her finish dinner that night, and we ate together at the table for the first time in months. We talked about everything and nothing, and I soaked up every word, every laugh, and every moment.
As I was clearing the dishes, I turned to her. “Hey, Mom? I’m sorry. For everything.”
She smiled a sad, beautiful smile, one that I’ll never forget. “Oh, Eddie. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
But I did. And I was determined to make it right. Without letting her know that I knew her secret.
A teary-eyed boy smiling | Source: Midjourney
The next few months were different.
I stopped going out late and stopped fighting her on every little thing. Instead, we spent our evenings watching old movies, looking through photo albums, cooking, and just being together.
One night, as we sat on the porch swing, watching the sunset, she turned to me.
“Eddie, there’s something I need to tell you.”
I knew what was coming, but it still felt like a punch to the gut when she said the words.
“I’m sick, honey. And it’s not getting better.”
A sad woman sitting on a swing | Source: Midjourney
I took her hand, squeezing it gently. I didn’t want to know what it was that was going to steal her away from me.
“I know, Mom. How long have you known?”
She sighed, looking out at the fading light. “A while now. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to burden you.”
“Mom, You could never be a burden. Never.”
We sat there in silence, watching the stars come out one by one. And for the first time in a long time, I felt at peace.
The last few months with Mom were the best we’d ever had. We didn’t waste time on arguments or petty disagreements. Every moment was precious, and we both knew it.
Silhouette of a boy with his mother on the beach | Source: Midjourney
She told me stories from her childhood, taught me how to cook her famous lasagna, and showed me old home videos I’d never seen before.
And through it all, she never complained, never showed fear. She was so strong, right until the end. And then, the day I dreaded came.
Mom slipped away in her sleep, a small smile on her face. And though I thought I was prepared, the loss hit me harder than I could have imagined.
A cemetery | Source: Midjourney
Months passed.
On my 18th birthday, I opened the box she’d left for me for this day. I put on the brown leather jacket, feeling closer to her somehow. And I read the first of many letters she’d written, her words bringing both tears and comfort.
“My dearest Eddie,” it began. “If you’re reading this, it means I’m not there to celebrate this day with you. But know that I’m with you, always. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become.”
I read those words repeatedly, hearing her voice in every sentence.
A boy wearing a brown leather jacket | Source: Midjourney
It’s been two years now, but I still have those boxes.
Some days, I think about opening another one, but then I stop myself. It’s like I’m saving Mom for later, piece by piece because even though she’s gone, she’s still somehow with me.
I’ve learned that love doesn’t end with death. It lives on in memories, in the lessons we’ve learned, and in the person we’ve become because of that love.
Mom taught me that. She taught me so much, right up until the end. And maybe, when the time is right, I’ll open the next box, and she’ll teach me something new all over again.
A pile of gift boxes on a bed | Source: Midjourney
But for now, I’m holding onto the memories we made in those last precious months. The laughter, the quiet moments, and the love that filled every second. Because in the end, that’s what matters most.
Love. Family. The time we had together.
And I’ll cherish every moment, just like she taught me to.
A thoughtful boy smiling | Source: Midjourney
To those who’ve just finished reading my story, I have one request: go and hug your mother. Right now. There’s no force more powerful, more pure than a mother’s love. Cherish it while you can. Never take her for granted, and please, never hurt her with harsh words or thoughtless actions.
You see, God doesn’t walk down from the heavens. He’s already sent us angels in the form of our mothers. Hold onto yours tight, and never let go. Because one day, like me, you might find yourself wishing for just one more hug, one more scolding… and one more chance to say “I love you.”
Love you, Mom. Forever & Ever.
A woman’s tomb | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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