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.
A Stranger Volunteered to Hold My Grandson at the Laundromat — His Next Action Left Me Breathless
When my washing machine broke while I was babysitting my grandson, I reluctantly headed to the laundromat. A kind stranger offered to help by holding the baby while I sorted clothes. Grateful, I accepted, but when I turned around minutes later, I saw something that made my blood run cold.
I’d been counting down the days, practically bursting with excitement. My first weekend alone with little Tommy, my precious grandson. At 58, I thought I’d seen it all, done it all. But nothing could have prepared me for the rollercoaster of emotions that lay ahead.
The day finally arrived. Sarah, my daughter, and her husband Mike pulled up in their sensible SUV, packed to the brim with what looked like enough baby gear to stock a small daycare.
“Mom, you sure you’re gonna be okay?” Sarah asked for what felt like the millionth time, her brow furrowed with that new-mom worry I remembered all too well.
I waved her off with a confident smile. “Honey, I raised you, didn’t I? We’ll be just fine. Now scoot! You two deserve this break.”
As they drove away, I turned to Tommy, nestled in my arms, his tiny fingers curled around my thumb. “It’s just you and me now, little man,” I cooed. “We’re gonna have the best time.”
I had it all planned out: cuddles, bottles, naps, and playtime, all neatly scheduled. What could possibly go wrong?
Famous last words.
It started with a gurgle. Not the adorable baby kind, but the ominous rumble of my ancient washing machine giving up the ghost.
I stared at the growing puddle on my laundry room floor, surrounded by a mountain of tiny onesies and burp cloths.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, feeling my perfect weekend plans crumble. Tommy chose that moment to unleash an impressive spit-up all over his last clean outfit.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, Grammy’s got this. We’ll just pop down to the laundromat. No big deal, right?”
Oh, how wrong I was.
The local laundromat was a relic from the ’80s, all buzzing fluorescent lights and the acrid smell of too much detergent.
I juggled Tommy, the diaper bag, and an overflowing laundry basket, feeling like I was performing some sort of demented circus act.
“Need a hand there, ma’am?”
I turned to see a man about my age, all salt-and-pepper hair and a grandfatherly smile.
Under normal circumstances, I might have politely declined. But with Tommy starting to fuss and my arms about to give out, that offer of help was too tempting to resist.
“Oh, would you mind? Just for a moment while I get this started,” I said, relief flooding through me.
He reached for Tommy, his weathered hands gentle as he cradled my grandson. “No trouble at all. Reminds me of when my own were little.”
I turned to the washing machine, fumbling with quarters and detergent pods. The familiar motions were soothing, and I found myself relaxing. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
That’s when I felt it. A prickle at the back of my neck, a sudden silence that felt oppressive. I glanced back, more out of instinct than any genuine concern.
My heart stopped.
Tommy, my precious baby grandson, had something bright and colorful in his tiny mouth. A Tide pod. And that “helpful” stranger? He was just standing there, smiling like everything was fine.
“No!” The scream tore from my throat as I lunged forward, my hands shaking so badly I could barely grab Tommy.
I pried the pod from his mouth, my mind reeling with horrible possibilities. What if I hadn’t turned around? What if he’d swallowed it?
I turned back to the strange man in a fury.
“What were you thinking?” I yelled at the man, clutching Tommy to my chest. “Don’t you know how dangerous these are?”
He just shrugged, that infuriating smile still in place. “Kids put everything in their mouths. No harm done.”
“No harm done? Are you mad?” I snatched up a detergent pod and thrust it toward him. “Here, why don’t you eat one then and we’ll see how it agrees with you!”
The man raised his hands and backed away. “What? No ways. It’s not like he got any, he was just nibbling on the edge…”
“Nibble on the edge then!” I snapped. I was practically stuffing the pod in his mouth at this point, I was so angry!
“Leave me alone, you crazy Karen!” The man tugged the pod from my fingers and threw it aside. “Fine thanks I’m getting for trying to help you.”
I wanted to shake him, to make him understand the gravity of what could have happened. I may well have done something crazy too, but Tommy was crying now, big hiccuping sobs that matched the frantic beating of my heart.
“You, are an absolute menace!” I yelled at the man as I started grabbing my things. “And an idiot, too, if you think it’s harmless to let kids chew on whatever they put in their mouths.”
I snatched up the washing basket, not caring about the wet clothes left behind or the quarters wasted.
All that mattered was getting Tommy out of there, away from that clueless man and his careless disregard for a baby’s safety.
The drive home was a blur. Tommy’s cries from the backseat felt like an accusation. How could I have been so stupid? So careless?
I’d handed my grandson over to a complete stranger, all because I was too proud to admit I might need more help than I’d thought.
Back home, I collapsed onto the couch, Tommy held tight against me. He was still crying, and I couldn’t help wondering if he’d swallowed some of the chemicals after all.
My hands were still shaking as I took out my phone and called my doctor. I couldn’t stop the tears that came, hot and heavy, when the receptionist picked up.
“Miss Carlson?” I sobbed. “This is Margo. Please, can I speak to Dr. Thompson? It’s urgent.”
The receptionist quickly put me through, and I explained everything to Dr. Thompson. He asked me a series of questions, like whether Tommy was vomiting or experiencing any trouble breathing.
“No, none of that, doctor,” I replied.
“It seems like you got lucky then, Margo,” he replied, “but keep a close eye on that grandson of yours and get him to the hospital immediately if he starts wheezing, coughing, or vomiting, okay?”
I promised I would, thanked Dr. Thompson, and ended the call. His words had given me some relief, but the “what ifs” kept playing through my mind like some horrible movie I couldn’t turn off.
What if I hadn’t looked back in time? What if Tommy had swallowed that pod? What if, what if, what if…
As the adrenaline faded, exhaustion set in. But even as my body begged for rest, my mind wouldn’t quiet.
The weight of responsibility I’d taken on hit me full force. This wasn’t like babysitting for a few hours. This was a whole weekend where I was solely responsible for this tiny, precious life.
I looked down at Tommy, now sleeping peacefully against my chest, unaware of how close we’d come to disaster. His little rosebud mouth, the one that had so nearly ingested something so dangerous, now puckered slightly in sleep.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” I whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Grammy promises to do better.”
And in that moment, I made a vow. Never again would I let my pride or anyone else’s apparent helpfulness put Tommy at risk. From now on, it was just us: Grammy and Tommy against the world.
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of hypervigilance. Every little sound had me on edge, every potential hazard magnified in my mind.
By the time Sarah and Mike returned, I was a wrung-out mess of nerves and sleep deprivation.
“Mom, are you okay?” Sarah asked, concern etching her features as she took in my disheveled appearance.
I plastered on a smile, handing over a happily gurgling Tommy. “Just fine, honey. We had a wonderful time, didn’t we, little man?”
As I watched them drive away, relief and guilt warred within me. I’d kept Tommy safe in the end. But the close call at the laundromat would haunt me for a long time to come.
I trudged back inside, eyeing the pile of still-unwashed laundry. With a sigh, I picked up the phone.
“Hello? I’d like to order a new washing machine, please. ASAP.”
Some lessons, it seems, come at a higher price than others. But if it meant keeping my grandson safe, no cost was too great. After all, that’s what being a grandmother is all about: love, learning, and sometimes, hard-won wisdom.
Leave a Reply