I Created a Tinder Profile for My Lonely Mother, but Regretted It When I Saw Who Was Messaging Her — Story of the Day

My mom gave up everything to raise me. After my dad bailed, she was always there for me, the only one. All I wanted was to do something nice for her. So, I figured it wasn’t too late for her to find love on a dating app. But Lord, what I definitely DIDN’T EXPECT was finding out who she was going on a date with!

My name is Lucy, and I’m 23 years old. Like I usually do on weekends, I went to visit my mother, Phoebe, one weekend.

I am her only daughter, and she has no one else. My father left the family when I was very young, and since then, my mother has always been alone.

I was her main priority, and with all the care she gave me, she never had time for her personal life. My mother is 56, and finding a partner at her age is not easy, but I stayed optimistic about helping her.

We were at her house, and I was standing there with my phone, taking pictures of her and showing her how to pose.

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow in the living room. The room was cozy, filled with family photos and mementos of my childhood.

“Mom, stand by the window,” I instructed, trying to capture the best light. “No, not like that, more gracefully, like a cat.”

“A cat? Lucy, at my age?” Mom replied shyly, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

“It’s never too late to feel like a woman. Listen to what I say. And don’t look at the camera. Pretend you’re gazing mysteriously out the window…”

Phoebe hesitated but complied, standing by the window with a slight tilt to her head, looking out with a soft, pensive expression.

“Oh… Hold still… Got it!” I exclaimed, snapping the picture. I showed it to her with a big smile. “See? You look amazing, Mom!”

She looked at the photo, and a small smile crept onto her face. “You think so?”

“Absolutely! This is perfect for your Tinder profile,” I said, editing the photo a bit before uploading it.

“Sweetheart, are you sure this is a good idea? I’m not young anymore; who would want me there…” she trailed off, doubt evident in her voice.

“Mom! Don’t say that about yourself. Life doesn’t end at fifty! Love knows no age!” I said firmly, looking into her eyes to emphasize my words. “You deserve to find happiness too.”

Together, we worked on adding a description for her profile. We laughed as we brainstormed the right words to describe her warm heart, love for gardening, and passion for cooking.

“How about this: ‘Loving mother and avid gardener looking for someone to share laughs and good meals with. Believes love is timeless and life is full of surprises.’ What do you think?” I asked.

Phoebe chuckled softly. “It sounds lovely, Lucy. Thank you for doing this for me.”

“Of course, Mom. You deserve to find someone special,” I said, giving her a hug. “Now, let me show you how to use the app.”

After a quick tutorial on swiping left and right, I felt confident that she was ready to dive into the world of online dating.

We shared one last laugh over the absurdity of it all before I said goodbye and headed back home, feeling hopeful about what the future might hold for her.

The next day, I arrived at the office, and as usual, my workday began with coffee and gossip with my office friend, Natalie.

The office kitchen buzzed with early morning chatter as we grabbed our coffees and settled at a table in the corner. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, creating a comforting start to the day.

Natalie immediately leaned in, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “You won’t believe this, Lucy. Michael, our boss, has been looking at his phone all day and smiling like a kid.”

I raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Michael? Smiling? What’s going on with him?”

Natalie grinned, her excitement palpable. “A woman. I’m sure he has someone. I mean, it’s the only explanation. Michael is always so focused on work and never distracted. But today, he’s been glued to his phone, smiling like a teenager in love.”

The thought of Michael, our workaholic boss, being smitten was amusing. We had never seen him with a woman, let alone acting like this.

“We have to find out who it is!” I declared, my curiosity piqued.

At that moment, we devised a plan. Natalie approached Michael, carrying a stack of documents. “Michael, could you take a look? I can’t seem to find last week’s report,” she said, feigning confusion.

Michael sighed, setting his phone aside reluctantly. “Natalie, you’ve worked here for years. Let me see,” he replied, taking the documents from her.

While Michael was distracted by Natalie, I quietly took his phone from the desk. My heart raced as I opened it, not knowing what to expect. But I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.

It was my mother! He was messaging my mom! Their conversation had been going on since last night. My mind raced as I scrolled through the messages.

They had already arranged a date for that evening; Mom had invited him to dinner at her place. Panic set in. “No, no, this can’t be! Not this,” I thought frantically. How could this be real?

Why him, Mom? I couldn’t imagine how awkward it would be to work with my boss as my future stepfather. No! I couldn’t let it happen. I had to stop it.

When Natalie and I reconvened, she immediately began asking, “So, who is it? Do you know her?”

I forced a smile and lied, “Oh, just some girl. Nothing special.” Inside, I was panicking. I needed to come up with a plan to prevent Michael from going on that date. If he went, it would ruin everything. My mind raced with possible solutions.

The workday was coming to an end, and I saw Michael hurrying to finish his work. It was so unusual because Michael was always the last to leave.

But I knew where he was rushing to, and it was crucial to ensure he didn’t make it. Seeing Michael packing up, I approached him with my laptop.

“Michael, do you have a minute?” I asked, trying to sound casual despite my racing heart.

“I’m in a bit of a hurry… But sure, what do you need?” he replied, glancing at the clock.

“I can’t get this report right. Could you please check if everything is correct?” I handed him my laptop, hoping he wouldn’t notice the deliberate errors I had planted.

Michael sighed and took the laptop from me. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” he said, opening the file and starting to review the report.

As he went through the report, pointing out mistakes and explaining corrections, I couldn’t help but notice his project on his computer screen.

It was a project he had been diligently working on all day to complete before his date. My heart pounded as I realized he would finish in no time.

“Lucy, I didn’t expect these kinds of mistakes from you; you usually do great work. What’s going on?” he asked, looking up at me with concern.

“Sorry, I’m not feeling well,” I mumbled, trying to hide my anxiety.

Michael finished reviewing the report much faster than I had anticipated. “It’s done. Now, please don’t distract me; I need to finish a few things,” he said, quickly pushing my laptop aside and reopening his project file.

Panic surged through me. Fearful he would finish in time, I did something horrible. Next to Michael’s laptop was a cup of coffee. I knocked it over, pretending it was an accident, and it spilled all over his laptop.

“No! Lucy, what have you done!?” Michael shouted, grabbing the laptop and trying to save it. But it was too late. The laptop wouldn’t start.

“Oh, I’m so sorry…” I stammered, guilt washing over me.

Michael looked at the laptop in disappointment, then checked the time on his phone and sighed sadly. He typed something on his phone and slowly took off his coat, sitting back at his desk. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay… I’ll have to redo the project on another computer. Don’t worry about it,” he said, clearly frustrated.

I felt terrible. Until I saw the result of my actions, I hadn’t realized what I had done. But it was done, and nothing could change it. Mom probably wouldn’t be too upset; she would find a better match. That’s what I told myself to feel better.

Returning to my desk, I felt even worse. I was a terrible daughter, colleague, and person. I called my mom and heard her quiet, sad voice.

“Maybe this isn’t for me, sweetheart. I think I’ll stop using the app; it’s too hard for me,” she said softly.

“Mom, don’t worry, I’ll come over tonight,” I replied, my heart breaking.

I knew I had to fix things. So I went to Michael’s office once more. “Michael, do you have a minute?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

“There is one more thing I want to ask you…” I needed to make things right.

That evening, I knocked on my mom’s door. My heart raced as I waited, knowing I had to come clean. The door opened, and there stood my mother, looking shocked as she saw me standing with Michael.

“Lucy? What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice filled with surprise.

Michael looked equally bewildered. “Why did you bring me here, Lucy?” he asked. He had been kind enough to give me a ride after work, not knowing I had a bigger plan in mind.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “Mom, Michael, I need to confess something. I tried to sabotage your date,” I blurted out, feeling a mix of guilt and relief.

Phoebe’s eyes widened in confusion. “What are you talking about, sweetheart?”

Michael frowned, looking between me and my mom. “Lucy, what do you mean?”

I felt the weight of my actions pressing down on me. “Phoebe is my mom. When I found out you were going on a date, I panicked and only thought about myself. I worried about how it would affect me and focused only on my feelings. In my selfishness, I forgot how this would impact you,” I admitted, my voice trembling.

Phoebe’s expression softened as she stepped closer. “Lucy, why would you do that? You know I haven’t dated in so long.”

“I know, Mom. And that’s why I feel so terrible,” I said, my eyes filling with tears. “I was scared and selfish. I didn’t think about how happy this could make you. I was only thinking about myself and how awkward it would be to have my boss as my stepfather.”

Michael looked thoughtful, his initial shock giving way to understanding. “Lucy, I had no idea Phoebe was your mother. But I appreciate your honesty. It takes courage to admit you were wrong.”

I nodded, wiping away a tear. “I’m really sorry. Now, I realize that you two might be perfect for each other. Maybe fate brought you together because you’ve both had such a hard time finding someone.”

Phoebe smiled gently. “Sweetheart, I understand why you felt that way. But you need to know that my happiness means the world to me, and if Michael can bring that happiness, then we should give it a chance.”

Michael nodded in agreement. “Lucy, your mom is a wonderful woman. I would be honored to get to know her better.”

I felt a sense of relief wash over me. “Now that you know the truth, I just want to say one thing. No matter what happens, if you’re happy, then I’m happier. I hope I can fix my mistake.”

Phoebe gave me a warm hug. “You already have, sweetheart. Thank you for being honest.”

She then turned to Michael and invited him inside. “Come on in, Michael. Let’s have that dinner.”

Michael smiled and stepped inside. “Thank you, Phoebe.”

My mom looked at me and extended the invitation. “Would you like to join us, Lucy?”

I shook my head with a smile. “No, Mom. This evening should be yours. Enjoy it.”

As the door closed behind them, I felt a surge of joy. I got into my car and drove home, feeling lighter and happier. After all, I was right—love knows no age.

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I Came Home to My Husband and His Ex Digging My Garden, What They Hid Years Ago Made Me Pale

From the start, he was kind and attentive, always willing to listen to me vent about my day, never once distracted by his phone or looking bored. He was everything I thought I needed.

What sealed my affection for him was when he showed up on my doorstep with homemade chicken soup and a collection of my favorite rom-coms. “Everyone needs a little TLC when they’re feeling down,” he said with that charming smile of his.

This is it, I thought. This is the man I’ve been waiting for.

One of the things that endeared Martin to me was his nervous stammer. When he was anxious or stressed, his words would stumble over each other, and I found it adorable. It made him feel more real, more human.

Like the time, a month into our relationship, when he took me to a fancy Italian restaurant for our “monthiversary.” He was passionately explaining the new accounting software at his firm, waving his fork around, when it slipped from his hand, sending tomato sauce all over his shirt. His face turned beet red.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” he stammered, looking mortified. “I d-didn’t m-mean to m-mess up.”

I reached across the table, took his hand, and smiled. “It’s okay. Red suits you.”

He laughed, and the tension melted away. That moment solidified my belief that he was someone I could truly be with.

As our relationship grew, Martin opened up about his past, especially about his ex-wife, Janet. He painted a picture of her as someone constantly chasing more—more money, more status, more things. “Nothing was ever enough for her,” he’d say, shaking his head. Their marriage crumbled under the weight of her demands, according to him.

“I couldn’t keep up with her. It felt like I was drowning, and she just kept pushing me under,” he confessed one night. I vowed I’d never be that way—I would love him for who he was, not for what he could provide.

So, when he proposed a year into our relationship, I didn’t hesitate. Our wedding was intimate and beautiful, and it was the happiest day of my life.

But last Tuesday, everything changed.

I had just returned from visiting my mother and decided to surprise Martin with his favorite lasagna. As I pulled into our driveway, I slammed on the brakes when I saw two figures digging in our garden—Martin and Janet.

For a moment, I thought my eyes were deceiving me. What were they doing together? And why were they destroying my garden?

I stormed out of the car and marched over to them. “What’s going on?” I demanded, anger rising in my voice.

Martin froze, dropping the shovel. “M-M-Margaret! Y-you’re h-home early!” His familiar stammer only confirmed my suspicions—he was hiding something.

All the worst thoughts flooded my mind. Was he cheating? Why was Janet here? Why were they digging up our yard?

“We were just…” Martin began, but Janet interrupted.

“She deserves to know, Martin,” she said, wiping her hands. “We buried a time capsule here, ten years ago.”

“A time capsule?” I echoed in disbelief.

“Yes, from when we lived here together,” Janet explained, gesturing to the metal box at their feet. “We always planned to dig it up someday.”

Martin looked sheepish. “Y-yeah, we thought it’d be fun to reminisce.”

I stood there, stunned. “So, you decided to destroy my garden for your little trip down memory lane?”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t,” I snapped before walking into the house, slamming the door behind me. Inside, I paced back and forth, trying to wrap my head around what just happened. How could Martin keep this from me? And why on earth would he prioritize his past with Janet over our life together?

I heard the front door open and the sound of hushed voices. Then Martin called out, “Margaret? Can we talk?”

I stepped into the hallway, where they stood with the muddy time capsule between them.

“What’s there to talk about?” I asked coldly.

“Please, let us explain,” Martin pleaded. “It’s not what you think.”

Janet chimed in. “We just wanted to look back. There’s nothing more to it—”

“Fine,” I interrupted. “Go ahead and dig up the past. I’ll be outside.”

I stormed out of the house, feeling a mixture of anger and betrayal. As I looked at the mess they’d made of my garden, an idea formed in my mind.

I gathered wood for a bonfire. By the time the fire was roaring, the sun had set. I could hear Martin and Janet laughing inside, likely over something from the time capsule. I called out, “Why don’t you bring that stuff out here? We could have a bonfire.”

They joined me, bringing the capsule with them. I picked up a handful of its contents—old photos, letters, trinkets. Without hesitation, I tossed them into the flames.

“What are you doing?” Janet gasped.

“Burnt bridges should stay burnt,” I said firmly. “It’s time to focus on the future, not the past.”

As I watched the fire consume their memories, I realized something—Martin wasn’t the perfect man I thought I’d married. He was flawed, just like anyone else.

Janet backed away, her face pale. “I think I should go.”

Neither Martin nor I stopped her as she left. Once we were alone, Martin turned to me with tears in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Margaret,” he said. “I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t know how to tell you about the capsule. I was afraid you’d think I still had feelings for Janet. I just wanted to get it done before you came back. I messed up. Can you forgive me?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, staring at the fire. “You’ve broken my trust, Martin. That’s not something you fix overnight.”

“We have a lot to talk about,” I continued. “But not tonight. Tonight, I need some space.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Martin said, defeated, before retreating into the house.

I stayed by the fire as it slowly died down. The garden would need to be replanted. New seeds, new life. Maybe our relationship could be the same.

Only time would tell which path we’d choose. But one thing was certain: Martin would never be the same in my eyes.

What would you have done if you were in my place?

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