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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My MIL Left the House Every Thursday & Returned Smelling Terribly — I Went Pale When I Discovered Why

They say you never really know someone until you’ve lived with them. I thought I knew my mother-in-law, but everything changed when I decided to follow her. What I uncovered wasn’t just a secret; it was a ticking time bomb that threatened the peace of our home.

I used to think my life was predictable, with its comforting routine. I worked as a freelance graphic designer, which gave me the flexibility to be home most days while still bringing in a decent income.

A woman working on her laptop from home | Source: Midjourney

A woman working on her laptop from home | Source: Midjourney

Xander, my husband, worked long hours at his law firm, so I often had the house to myself. It was peaceful until my mother-in-law, Cordelia, moved in three months ago.

After her husband passed away, she called us one night, her voice trembling.

“Olive, dear… I don’t know how to do this on my own,” she’d sobbed over the phone. “The house is so empty, so lonely… I just need to be around my family.”

An extremely sad senior woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

An extremely sad senior woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

I glanced at Xander, and he nodded, looking concerned. We agreed to let Cordelia move in; it felt like the right thing to do for a grieving woman who’d just lost her partner of 40 years. But from the start, something felt off.

Cordelia had always been a little strange, but now her behavior was unpredictable. Every Thursday, she would leave early in the morning and return late in the evening, her clothes carrying a terrible stench: something rotten and damp, like decay. It lingered, clinging to the air and making me question what she was really up to.

A woman looks thoughtful and curious while sitting at home | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks thoughtful and curious while sitting at home | Source: Midjourney

“Mom, where were you today?” Xander asked her one Thursday evening as she shuffled into the kitchen, her eyes avoiding ours. I stood by the stove, pretending to stir a pot of soup, trying not to wrinkle my nose at the smell.

“Oh, just out with some old friends,” she said, waving a hand dismissively, her smile tight and unconvincing.

A senior woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

“Every Thursday?” I asked, keeping my tone casual. “That must be some social circle.”

She glanced at me, her eyes lingering a moment too long, then shrugged. “We like to meet regularly. It’s good for the soul, you know, catching up with old friends.”

But that smell — it was like she’d been crawling through a sewer. The scent lingered long after she’d passed, a pungent blend of garbage and something wet and decayed. I could feel my curiosity gnawing at me, the way you can’t help but poke at a sore tooth.

A curious woman standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A curious woman standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

One Wednesday night, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Xander,” I whispered, nudging him awake. “Are you seriously buying that story?”

He blinked sleepily. “What story?”

“Your mom’s ‘out with old friends’ story,” I replied. “Every Thursday? And that smell… it’s not normal.”

He sighed. “Maybe she’s just grieving in her own way, Olive. People cope differently.”

I felt my jaw tighten. “And what way is that? Dumpster diving?”

He chuckled softly, half-asleep, “Let it go, love. It’s probably nothing.”

A man chuckles softly while lying in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

A man chuckles softly while lying in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

But it didn’t feel like “nothing.” It felt like a secret, and I needed to know.

The next Thursday, I called in sick and decided to follow her. I waited by the window, peeking through the blinds like some kind of amateur detective. Cordelia left the house at her usual time, dressed in her oversized coat, clutching her handbag tightly.

I kept a safe distance as she walked down the street, turning left at the end and then another left into an alley I didn’t even know existed. My heart pounded in my chest as I tailed her.

A woman is out on the street, looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman is out on the street, looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

She stopped at the corner and looked around like she was checking for someone or something.

“Where are you going, Cordelia?” I whispered, more curious than ever.

I was expecting something harmless, maybe even laughable, like an old ladies’ knitting club or maybe a bingo night in a creepy basement. But what I found inside was nothing like that.

Cordelia didn’t meet up with friends. Instead, she made her way through the shadiest part of town, slipping into an old, run-down building that looked like it could collapse at any moment.

A senior woman standing outside an old building | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman standing outside an old building | Source: Midjourney

I hesitated outside, the walls covered in graffiti and the windows boarded up, but I took a deep breath and followed her inside. The air was thick with smoke, the kind that sticks to your skin, and the room was filled with the low hum of murmurs and distant laughter.

That’s when I saw it: a hidden, illegal casino tucked away in the back, reeking of stale smoke and the sour smell of desperation. The dimly lit room was filled with flashing lights and the sounds of poker chips clinking filled the air.

Stacks of poker chips on a table | Source: Pexels

Stacks of poker chips on a table | Source: Pexels

And there, in the middle of it all, was my mother-in-law. Not just “hanging out with friends,” but gambling away every penny she could get her hands on, her eyes fixed on the cards in front of her, her hands trembling with each bet she placed.

I stayed in the shadows, barely breathing, watching her play hand after hand. She looked different, haggard, almost like she was wearing the weight of every decision she’d ever made. Her lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying over the noise.

A grayscale photo of a senior woman sitting in a casino with gambling chips lying on her table | Source: Midjourney

A grayscale photo of a senior woman sitting in a casino with gambling chips lying on her table | Source: Midjourney

I saw her lose money, win a little, then lose it all again. She seemed almost possessed, her fingers shaking as she reached for the chips, her face lined with a mixture of desperation and obsession.

I wanted to pull her out of there, to grab her by the arm and drag her home, but I couldn’t move. I felt frozen, glued to the spot. I needed to see how far she would go. She didn’t leave until late in the evening, and when she finally did, she looked exhausted.

A senior woman looks exhausted while sitting in a casino | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman looks exhausted while sitting in a casino | Source: Midjourney

Her eyes were glazed over, and her shoulders slumped like she was carrying the weight of her losses on her back.

I waited until she turned the corner before I followed, keeping my distance. As we walked back, I felt a wave of anger and pity twisting in my stomach. What had she gotten herself into? And why hadn’t she told us?

The next morning, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. At breakfast, I set my coffee cup down a little too hard. “Cordelia, where were you yesterday?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

A woman looks serious while standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks serious while standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

She barely looked up from her cereal. “With friends, like I told you.”

“Stop lying, Cordelia,” I snapped. “I followed you. I know where you were.”

Her spoon clattered against the bowl, and she went pale. “You… you followed me?”

Xander looked between us, confused. “What’s going on?”

“She wasn’t with friends, Xander,” I said, my gaze fixed on her. “She was at an illegal casino, gambling. And from the looks of it, she’s been doing it for a while.”

A senior woman gambling in a casino | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman gambling in a casino | Source: Midjourney

Cordelia’s face crumpled, and she broke down. “I… I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’ve lost everything… everything. I had nowhere else to go. That’s why I begged you to let me stay. I was ashamed, and I didn’t know how to tell you…”

Xander’s face turned a deep shade of red. “You mean to tell me you’ve been lying to us this whole time? Using us?”

“I didn’t mean to!” she cried. “I didn’t know how to stop. I thought maybe… maybe I could win it all back.”

A grayscale photo of a senior woman looking sad and desperate | Source: Midjourney

A grayscale photo of a senior woman looking sad and desperate | Source: Midjourney

I felt a pang of guilt, but it was overshadowed by the anger boiling inside me. “You’ve been draining us, Cordelia. We took you in because we cared, not so you could feed your addiction.”

She looked at me, her face streaked with tears. “I know, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll change. Just… don’t throw me out. Please.”

That night, Xander and I lay in bed, unable to sleep. “We have to do something,” I whispered. “We can’t just let her keep doing this.”

Xander sighed deeply. “What do you suggest, Olive? Tough love?”

A man looking at his wife while sitting in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at his wife while sitting in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

I nodded. “Exactly. If she’s not going to stop on her own, then we’ll have to make her stop.”

The following Thursday, I handed her a large sum of cash, more than she had seen in one place since she’d moved in with us. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw that familiar spark of greed.

“Go ahead,” I said, forcing a smile. “Take this and do whatever you want with it.”

A woman forcing a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman forcing a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

She hesitated for just a second before snatching the money and stuffing it into her purse.

“Thank you, Olive,” she murmured, her voice shaking, but she didn’t meet my eyes. And then she was gone, practically running out the door.

Xander stood behind me, his arms crossed. “Are you sure about this?”

“Trust me,” I replied. “She won’t get far.”

Earlier that day, I had made a few calls, and by the time Cordelia reached the casino, the place was swarming with undercover cops. The raid went down right as she was about to hand over the cash.

Two cops standing in a casino | Source: Midjourney

Two cops standing in a casino | Source: Midjourney

I wasn’t there to see it, but I could imagine the look on her face: shock, maybe a little betrayal, as they caught her red-handed, along with the owners of the illegal casino.

That evening, the phone rang. It was the police. “Mrs. Fields?” the officer said. “We have your mother-in-law in custody.”

“We know,” I replied calmly. “And we’re not bailing her out. You should know she’s been struggling with a gambling addiction. We want her to get help.”

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

The officer seemed taken aback but eventually agreed to include our statement in the report. The judge showed no mercy; Cordelia was sentenced to mandatory rehabilitation and a hefty fine.

Months later, when she was released from rehab, Cordelia looked different. She seemed smaller, more fragile. She stood in our doorway, wringing her hands.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I know I hurt you both, and I’m ready to make it right. I want to rebuild my life.”

A senior woman looks sad and ashamed | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman looks sad and ashamed | Source: Midjourney

Xander and I exchanged a look. He stepped forward, his expression soft but firm.

“We’re willing to give you another chance, Mom,” he said, “but on our terms. We’ve found you a modest apartment nearby. We’ll cover the rent, but only if you keep your word and attend your support group meetings.”

Cordelia nodded eagerly, tears in her eyes. “I will. I swear. Thank you… thank you for giving me a chance.”

As we watched her walk away to her new home, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope mixed with the fear of another betrayal.

A woman looks hopeful and a bit fearful while standing outside her house and looking at something | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks hopeful and a bit fearful while standing outside her house and looking at something | Source: Midjourney

We’d done all we could, and the rest was up to her. The ball was in her court, and only time would tell if she could truly change.

But when Natasha starts to see a change in Marlene’s behavior, she begins to get worried about the old woman. Eventually, when the truth is revealed, Natasha doesn’t know what to do.

Two women cooking together | Source: Pexels

Two women cooking together | Source: Pexels

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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