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.
Businessman Loses All Hope After His Diagnosis, but One Hospital Encounter Changes Everything — Story of the Day
When a workaholic businessman receives devastating news about his health, he meets a young boy in the hospital who changes his outlook on life. Their bond grows through unexpected friendship and small acts of kindness, teaching him what truly matters—until a heartbreaking twist reshapes everything.
Andrew, 50, sat at his desk, shuffling through papers while juggling scheduling meetings with his partners.
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He didn’t hear Michael, his assistant, enter the room. Michael stood there, waiting. After a few moments, he cleared his throat.
No response. Andrew kept working, his focus sharp. Michael tried again. “Mr. Smith.” Still no answer. He repeated his name three more times.
Finally, Andrew slammed his hands on the desk and snapped, “What?”
Michael didn’t flinch. “You asked me to tell you if your ex-wife called.”
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Andrew groaned and rubbed his temples. “How many times do I have to tell you? Ignore her calls. What now?”
Michael held a notepad. “She left a message. I should warn you—it’s a direct quote. Her words, not mine.” He read from the note. “‘You pompous jerk, I will never forgive you for wasting so many years of my life. If you don’t give me back my painting, I’ll smash your car.’ That’s the message.”
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Andrew’s face turned red. “We’ve been divorced for two years! Does she not have anything better to do?”
Michael looked at him, waiting for further instructions. “Should I respond to her?”
“No! And stop taking her calls,” Andrew said. Then he paused. “Actually, tell her I threw that painting in the trash!”
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Andrew grabbed a pen and hurled it toward the wall. Michael ducked slightly, gave a polite nod, and left the room.
Moments later, Andrew’s phone rang. He frowned, picking it up.
“Andrew Smith?” a voice asked.
“Yes. Who’s calling?”
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“This is the hospital. Your test results are ready. The doctor wants to see you.”
“Can’t you just tell me now?” Andrew said, irritated. “I’m busy.”
“Sorry, sir. The doctor will explain in person.”
Andrew sighed heavily. “Fine. I’ll come in.” He hung up, shaking his head.
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Andrew rarely allowed himself the luxury of a lunch break, but this time was different. The doctor’s office was quiet, the ticking clock on the wall the only sound.
Andrew sat stiffly in a chair, his fingers tapping against the armrest. When the door opened, the doctor stepped in, his face serious. Andrew frowned, sensing bad news.
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The doctor sat across from him and spoke in a steady, measured tone, using terms Andrew didn’t understand.
Then came the word—cancer. “We need to act fast,” the doctor said.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Andrew asked, his voice sharp. “I own a company. I can’t just check into a hospital.”
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The doctor met his eyes. “Your health should come first. The company can wait.”
Andrew leaned forward. “What are my chances of getting better?”
“I can’t promise anything,” the doctor said. “Starting treatment right away is critical.”
Andrew’s voice rose. “Can I still work while I’m here?”
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“Treatment affects everyone differently,” the doctor explained. “You will stay in the hospital so we can monitor you. Someone can bring you a computer.”
Andrew frowned and stood up. “Fine. I’ll sort it out.”
The doctor watched him leave. “We’ll see you tomorrow with your things,” he said before Andrew reached the door.
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As Andrew walked through the hospital’s pediatric wing, he noticed a boy, about eight years old, tossing a ball back and forth with a nurse.
The sound of their laughter echoed in the corridor. The ball suddenly rolled across the floor and stopped near Andrew’s feet.
“Excuse me, sir!” the boy called out, smiling. “Can you please throw the ball back?”
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Andrew picked up the ball, his face tense. Without a word, he hurled it down the hall, far from the boy and nurse, then turned and walked away.
“That was mean, sir!” the boy shouted.
Andrew had been in the hospital for days that felt like weeks. He tried to keep working, setting up his laptop and pushing through meetings.
But the treatment was draining. Each session left him weaker. The nausea was constant, and sleep was nearly impossible.
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One afternoon, during another long chemotherapy session, Andrew leaned back, his eyes half-closed. He felt miserable.
Suddenly, a small voice broke through his fog. He opened his eyes to see a boy standing in front of him. Startled, Andrew flinched. The boy giggled. It was the same boy from the corridor.
“What do you want, kid?” Andrew mumbled, not even lifting his head.
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“I’ve been walking around the hospital looking for someone to play with. It’s boring here.”
Andrew glanced at him, annoyed. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Tommy,” the boy replied with a wide grin.
Andrew sighed. “Listen, Tommy. I’m not in the mood to play. Go bother someone else before I start feeling worse.”
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Tommy didn’t move. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small peppermint candy. He held it out to Andrew. “This helps with nausea. You should try it.”
Andrew hesitated, then snatched the candy and set it on the table.
“You’re really grumpy!” Tommy said, laughing. “I’m going to call you Mr. Grouch. Are you mad because you’re scared of needles?” He pointed at the IV attached to Andrew’s arm.
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Andrew frowned. “I’m not scared of anything.”
Tommy nodded. “That’s fine. I was scared at first too, but then I stopped. My mom says I’m a superhero. Do you have a superpower?”
“No,” Andrew said, his voice flat.
“That’s because you’re too sad,” Tommy replied, his tone serious now.
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Andrew looked at the boy, surprised by the honesty in his big, bright eyes. “Is there anything you want?” Andrew asked.
Tommy grinned. “Yeah. I want to buy flowers for my mom. She works really hard, but I don’t have any money.”
Andrew sighed again, reached for his wallet, and pulled out a few bills. “Here. Get your flowers. Maybe buy yourself something too. But leave me alone.”
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Tommy’s face lit up. “Thanks, Mr. Grouch!” He ran out, clutching the money, while Andrew stared at the peppermint candy on the table.
With a sigh, he picked it up, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. To his surprise, the sharp sweetness helped ease the nausea. It wasn’t much, but it made a difference for a while.
That evening, as Andrew stared at his laptop, a nurse knocked on his door.
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She carried a small paper bag. “This is for you,” she said, placing it on the table. “Tommy sent it.”
Andrew opened the bag and found it full of peppermint candies. He shook his head, unsure whether to feel amused or moved.
The next morning, he decided to find Tommy. He needed to make one thing clear: the money wasn’t a gift.
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As he approached Tommy’s room, he saw a woman leaning against the wall, her shoulders shaking. She was crying.
“Are you okay?” Andrew asked, his voice low.
The woman wiped her eyes quickly and looked up. “Yes… Did you need something?”
“Tommy gave me some candies yesterday,” Andrew said.
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The woman’s lips curved into a small smile. “Oh, so you’re Mr. Grouch,” she said.
Andrew raised an eyebrow. “My name’s Andrew,” he replied.
“I’m Sara,” she said. “Are you here for treatment too?”
Andrew nodded.
“Then you understand,” Sara said quietly. “The bills, the stress. I can’t even pay rent right now. They told me we’ll be evicted in two months.”
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Andrew nodded again, unsure of what to say. Before he could respond, the door burst open. Tommy ran out, his face lighting up when he saw Andrew. “Hey, Mr. Grouch!” he called, grinning ear to ear.
From that day forward, Tommy became a constant presence in Andrew’s life.
The boy would wander into Andrew’s room with a big grin and endless energy. At first, Andrew found it annoying, but Tommy’s persistence wore him down.
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Soon, Andrew began looking forward to the visits. Tommy taught him to notice the simple joys in life.
They sat by the window, watching the sunset, guessing the colors in the sky. They played harmless pranks on nurses, earning scolding looks and stifled smiles.
Sometimes, they “borrowed” wheelchairs and raced down the halls, laughing until their sides hurt.
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Andrew didn’t ask about Tommy’s illness. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up. One afternoon, Tommy mentioned Sara had been crying again. “She’s worried about money,” Tommy said. “We might lose our house.”
Andrew quietly gave Tommy an envelope of cash. “Tell her it’s from a magician,” he said.
When Sara tried to return the money, Andrew waved her off. “I’m not a magician,” he said. “I don’t know where it came from.”
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Weeks passed. Andrew’s treatments worked, and the day came when the doctor gave him the news—he was cancer-free.
Ecstatic, Andrew rushed to share it with Tommy. But when he arrived, Tommy was unconscious, Sara sitting beside him, tears streaming down her face.
“What happened?” Andrew asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
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Sara wiped her eyes and shook her head. “The doctors said there’s nothing more they can do.”
Andrew stared at her, struggling to process the words. “But… he seemed so happy. He always smiled. I thought he was improving.”
Sara looked at him, her face full of pain. “He didn’t want you to see how sick he was. He wanted to be strong for you. He thought he was a superhero.”
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Andrew’s chest tightened. “I’m so sorry.”
Sara managed a faint smile through her tears. “Don’t be. He said you saved him. These months, you gave him laughter and hope. You made him forget about being sick.”
Andrew shook his head slowly. “No. He’s the one who saved me.”
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He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. She cried quietly against his shoulder, and though Andrew wished he could take her pain away, he knew nothing would ever truly ease it.
That night, Tommy passed away peacefully, surrounded by the love of his mother and the memories he had made.
Andrew sat alone in his room afterward, overwhelmed by the loss. Andrew couldn’t bear the thought of such a bright soul being forgotten.
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Determined, he started a foundation in Tommy’s name to help sick children, ensuring his kindness would live on.
He also stayed in touch with Sara, offering her support in every way he could.
One afternoon, Andrew stood at his ex-wife’s door, holding the painting she had demanded for so long. She opened the door, her mouth ready to hurl accusations, but Andrew silently handed her the painting.
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“I’m not here to argue,” Andrew said, his tone calm as he held out the painting.
His ex-wife frowned, puzzled. “What is this supposed to mean?” she asked.
“Nothing important,” Andrew replied, a small smile forming. “I’m just making sure I keep my superpowers.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Taking care of Mom was hard enough without the tension with my sister. Accusations flew when precious things started disappearing. I thought I knew who was to blame, but the truth shattered my world. Betrayal came from where I least expected, leaving me questioning everything—and everyone—I trusted.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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