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 Neighbor Tried to Ruin My Garden with an HOA Complaint—Here’s What Backfired
My lovely granddaughter gave me a cute garden gnome to make my yard more cheerful. But my nosy neighbor, who can’t stand a little fun, reported me to the HOA for “ruining” the look of the neighborhood. She thought she had won. Oh, how wrong she was!
Hello there! Come on in and take a seat. This old lady has a story that will make you laugh and maybe teach you something, too. Now, I know you might be thinking, “Oh no, not another story about lost love or cheating husbands.” But hold on! This story isn’t about my dear Arnold. Bless his heart; he’s probably up in heaven, flirting with his old crushes!
No, this story is about something that could happen to anyone.
So listen closely because Grandma Peggy is ready to share how a little garden gnome stirred up a lot of trouble in our quiet neighborhood.
But before we get into the details, let me describe where I live. Picture a cozy suburban paradise, where the streets are lined with maple trees and the lawns are greener than a leprechaun’s vest.
It’s the kind of place where everyone knows each other, and the biggest excitement is usually the latest gossip at Mabel’s Bakery.
Oh, Mabel’s Bakery! That’s where the real fun takes place.
Every morning, you’ll find a group of us old-timers, all nearing 80, sipping coffee and enjoying Mabel’s famous cinnamon rolls and croissants. The smell of fresh bread and the sound of laughter spill out onto the sidewalk, drawing people in like moths to a flame.
“Did you hear about Mr. Bill’s new toupee?” Gladys would whisper, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Land sakes, it looks like a squirrel took up residence on his head!” Mildred would reply, and we’d all laugh like a bunch of hens.
It’s a peaceful life filled with the simple joys of tending to my garden, sharing recipes, and, yes, the occasional bit of harmless gossip. Then one day, my granddaughter, sweet little Jessie, gifted me the cutest garden gnome I’d ever seen.
This little fella had a mischievous grin that could light up a room and a tiny watering can in his chubby ceramic hands.
“Gran,” Jessie said, her eyes sparkling, “I thought he’d be perfect for your garden. He looks just like you when you’re up to no good!”
I couldn’t argue with that. So, I found him a prime spot right next to my prized birdbath.
Little did I know, I’d just planted the seed for the biggest fuss our neighborhood had seen since Mr. Bill’s toupee blew off at the Fourth of July picnic.
“Oh, Peggy,” I muttered to myself as I stepped back to admire my handiwork, “you’ve outdone yourself this time.”
I had no idea how right I was.
Now, before we dive into the thick of it, let me introduce you to the thorn in my side—my neighbor, Carol, who’s also in her late 70s. Picture a woman who’s never met a rule she didn’t like or a bit of joy she couldn’t squash. That’s Carol for you.
She moved in two years ago, but you’d think she’d been appointed Queen of the cul-de-sac the way she carries on. Always peering over fences, measuring grass height with a ruler, and shooing kids away for no reason.
I swear, that woman’s got more opinions than a politician at a debate.
One afternoon, I was out tending to my petunias when I heard the telltale clip-clop of Carol’s shoes on the sidewalk. I braced myself for another lecture on the “proper way” to trim hedges.
“Well, hello there, Carol,” I called out, plastering on my sweetest smile. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”
Carol’s eyes narrowed as she surveyed my garden. “Peggy,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness, “what on earth is that thing by your birdbath?”
I followed her gaze to my new gnome. “Oh, that’s just a little gift from my granddaughter. Isn’t he a darling?”
Carol’s nose wrinkled like she’d smelled something foul.
“It’s certainly unique. But are you sure it’s allowed? You know how particular our HOA is about maintaining the neighborhood’s aesthetic.”
My smile faltered. “Now, Carol, I’ve lived here for nigh on 40 years. I think I know what’s allowed and what isn’t.”
She raised an eyebrow. “If you say so, Peggy. I just wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble.”
As she clip-clopped away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that TROUBLE was exactly what she had in mind.
A week later, I found out just how right I was. There, stuffed in my mailbox like a dirty secret, was a letter from the HOA.
My hands shook as I tore it open, and let me tell you, what I read made my blood boil hotter than a pot of Arnold’s famous five-alarm chili. The letter said that my gnome was against the neighborhood rules and I had to remove it immediately.
“Violation notice?” I sputtered, reading aloud. “Garden ornament not in compliance with neighborhood aesthetic guidelines? Why, I oughta…”
I didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out who was behind this. Carol’s smug face popped into my mind, and I could almost hear her nasally voice: “I told you so, Peggy!”
Now, some folks might’ve caved and removed the gnome, but not this old bird. No sir, I’ve got more fight than a cat in a bathtub.
I marched inside, pulled out my reading glasses, and dug up that HOA rulebook. If Carol wanted to play by the rules, then by golly, we’d play by ALL the rules.
I flipped through the pages until I found the section on garden decor. It stated that residents could have one decorative item in their front yard, as long as it didn’t exceed three feet in height. Well, my gnome was only two feet tall! So I was in the clear!
Feeling triumphant, I decided to send a response to the HOA. I crafted a letter detailing my findings and politely requested that they reconsider their stance on my delightful gnome. With a triumphant grin, I dropped the letter in the mail and waited.
As I flipped through page after mind-numbing page, a plan started forming. A devious, delicious plan that would teach Carol a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget.
“Oh, Carol,” I chuckled, “you’ve really stepped in it this time!”
For the next few hours, I was busier than a one-armed paper hanger. I pored over that HOA rulebook like it was the last novel on Earth. And boy, did I strike gold.
Turns out, our dear Carol wasn’t as perfect as she thought. Her pristine white fence? An inch too tall. That fancy mailbox she was so proud of? Wrong shade of beige. And don’t even get me started on her wind chimes… those things were about as welcome as a skunk at a garden party according to the noise ordinance.
With all this juicy information, I could hardly contain my glee. I carefully documented each of her violations and decided to send a little note to the HOA about them.
After all, if Carol wanted to poke her nose into my garden gnome business, I was more than happy to return the favor. “Let’s see how she likes it when the tables are turned!” I said to myself, giggling as I sealed the envelope and sent it off.
That night, I made myself a cup of chamomile tea and settled in for some well-deserved relaxation, eagerly anticipating the chaos that would unfold.
The next morning, I was up with the birds, perched by my window with a cup of coffee and my binoculars. At precisely 7:15 a.m., Carol’s front door opened.
What happened next was better than any TV show I’d ever seen. Carol stepped out, took one look at her lawn, and FROZE. Her mouth hung open. Then, she let out a screech that could’ve woken the dead.
“What in the name of all that’s holy?!” she shrieked, her voice hitting a pitch that made dogs howl three blocks away.
I nearly spilled my coffee laughing. “Oh, Carol, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
It turned out that while I was busy gathering evidence against her, my friends from the neighborhood had come together to have a little fun of their own. They had all pitched in to cover Carol’s yard with colorful inflatable lawn decorations. Flamingos, unicorns, and even a giant inflatable Santa were now crowding her once-pristine lawn, turning it into a carnival of chaos.
As Carol stood there, mouth agape, I could barely contain my glee. She stomped around her yard, her indignation growing with each inflatable she spotted. I could practically hear her thoughts racing: “This is unacceptable! How could this happen?!”
Every squeal of outrage made me chuckle harder. “That’s right, Carol. Welcome to my world!” I whispered to myself, feeling like I had pulled off the greatest prank of all time.
I knew I had to see her reaction up close, so I grabbed my trusty hat and headed over to “help” her sort out her lawn situation. After all, I was a good neighbor, right?
As I toddled off, leaving Carol sputtering in my wake, I couldn’t help but feel a little proud. Some people never learn, but sometimes, a garden gnome can teach an epic lesson.
When I arrived at Carol’s yard, I could see her pacing back and forth, hands on her hips, looking more flustered than a cat at a dog show. “What am I going to do about this mess?” she muttered to herself, completely ignoring my cheerful greeting.
“Oh, Carol, dear!” I called out, trying to keep a straight face. “Need a hand with all these delightful decorations?”
She shot me a glare that could have melted ice. “This is not funny, Peggy!”
“Of course it is! Look at how festive it is now!” I giggled, trying to lighten her mood. I offered to help her deflate the colorful invaders, but secretly, I was loving every moment of this small victory.
As the day went on, we worked side by side, and I could see her beginning to calm down, despite her initial outrage. “Maybe it’s not so bad,” she finally admitted, a hint of a smile breaking through her stern facade.
And my little gnome? He’s still there by the birdbath, grinning away. Only now, I swear his smile looks just a little bit wider! It seems he’s not just a decoration anymore; he’s become a symbol of our neighborhood’s spirit, reminding us all to embrace a little fun and laughter, even in the face of a neighbor’s strict rules.
As I looked back at my garden, I felt a warmth in my heart, knowing that sometimes, a touch of whimsy can go a long way in softening even the hardest of hearts. And who knows? Maybe Carol will be inspired to add a little joy to her own yard next time!
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