When my 5-year-old daughter, Lily, handed me the letter she’d written to Santa, I expected toys and gadgets. But her last wish made my stomach drop. It wasn’t about her. It was about her grandma and my husband. Her innocent words left me questioning my marriage and wondering what was happening behind my back.
There’s something magical about raising a 5-year-old.
My daughter, Lily, is the light of my life. She’s got the kind of curiosity that makes every day an adventure.
A little girl standing outside | Source: Midjourney
Whether it’s her endless questions about why the sky is blue or her fascination with how cookies bake in the oven, Lily’s wonder keeps me on my toes and fills our home with laughter.
I’ve been married to Jeff for six years, and life has been mostly smooth sailing. We’ve had our share of ups and downs, but we’ve managed to build a good life together.
A couple sitting together | Source: Midjourney
He’s a great Dad to Lily. She loves it when he plays tea party with her or reads bedtime stories. Watching the two of them together makes me feel like I won the marriage lottery.
As Christmas approached, Lily was bubbling with excitement to write her annual letter to Santa. It’s a tradition we’ve had since her very first Christmas when she was too young to hold a crayon.
This year, she insisted on doing most of it herself.
A little girl holding a pen | Source: Midjourney
“I’m a big girl now, Mommy!” she declared, holding up a red marker with an exaggerated look of determination.
I decided to make it extra special by sitting with her to brainstorm her wishes. I figured there’d be a few predictable requests. Something pink, something glittery, maybe a toy she saw on TV. And for the most part, that’s exactly how it went.
“I want a kitchen set,” she began. “A camera like James has, a smartwatch like Pam’s, and… oh, I want Grandma to play with me, not with Dad.”
An older woman | Source: Midjourney
What did she just say? I thought.
“Grandma?” I asked, looking at her with wide eyes. “My mom or Daddy’s mom?”
“Yours,” she replied. “She comes when I’m usually asleep, around three p.m. One time, I woke up and heard something. I saw Grandma’s bag and heard her voice in your bedroom. When I went in, Daddy was putting on his shirt. When I asked Grandma to play, they said they’d already played, so Grandma was leaving.”
An angry woman | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t believe her words. I thought she was making this up.
I laughed nervously. “Honey, I think you dreamed that. Grandma doesn’t—”
“No, I saw her,” Lily interrupted firmly. “And she really was there.”
I shrugged it off, trying not to read into it. But a seed of doubt had already been planted.
Over the next few days, Lily’s innocent words kept replaying in my mind, no matter how much I told myself it was probably just a misunderstanding.
A woman standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney
My mom and… my husband? No, it couldn’t be. Jeff adored me, and my mom was, well, my mom. But still, there were little things I couldn’t ignore.
For one, Mom had been dropping by more often in the afternoons, but only when I wasn’t home.
I called her to ask about it.
“Why don’t you come when I’m around, Mom?” I asked casually. “It’s been weeks since I last saw you.”
A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
“I just stopped by while going home from work,” she told me. “We’ll meet soon, honey.”
“Work? Oh. How’s it going?” I asked.
“It’s… okay,” she replied. “I’ve been thinking about switching my career now. I told you about it before as well. I—”
“Mom, please!” I cut her off. “You’re a lawyer and that’s perfect!”
That’s all I got whenever I called her. She never visited when I was home.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
And then there was Jeff.
Lately, he’d been complaining about back pain, wincing every time he stood up or bent down. When I asked about it, he brushed me off with a quick, “It’s nothing serious.”
But now, that casual dismissal felt like another puzzle piece I couldn’t fit.
The first real red flag came a few days later when I was cleaning out a drawer in our bedroom. I found a small, nearly empty bottle of lavender massage oil tucked behind some old socks.
It wasn’t mine, and I didn’t remember seeing it before.
A person holding an oil bottle | Source: Pexels
“What’s this?” I asked Jeff, holding up the bottle.
“Oh, that’s your mom’s,” he replied with a shrug. “She’s been, uh, using it for her back.”
“For her back?” I repeated.
“Yeah, she left it here by accident,” he said nonchalantly, walking away before I could ask anything else.
Something about his tone didn’t sit right with me. And then Lily’s comments replayed in my mind.
A man sitting in his house | Source: Midjourney
Is Jeff hiding something from me? I thought. Did Lily really see Mom and Jeff in our bedroom?
These thoughts were making me go crazy, and what made things worse was Mom’s behavior lately.
So, the thing is, my mom’s always been polished and professional. She’s this proud lawyer who’d wear heels even to casual family dinners.
But recently, she’d traded her usual tailored suits for yoga pants and oversized tees.
A woman in an oversized shirt | Source: Pexels
“What’s up with the new outfits, Mom?” I asked her one day.
“Oh, nothing,” she smiled. Just trying to relax more.”
Her answer made sense, but not if I analyzed it with Lily’s words ringing in my mind. I couldn’t help but wonder why her sudden transformation coincided with her secret visits to my place.
Then there were her hushed conversations with Jeff.
A woman in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney
One night, I walked past the living room and saw them sitting close, their heads bent together. Mom was whispering, “We’ll have to keep this between us. She wouldn’t understand.”
Jeff nodded but they both went silent the moment they saw me.
“Everything okay?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“Fine!” Mom chirped, standing quickly and brushing her hands on her pants. “Just discussing, uh, holiday plans.”
It didn’t feel fine. And Jeff’s behavior didn’t help. He’d started acting overly attentive, bringing me coffee in bed, folding laundry without being asked, and even volunteering to pick up groceries.
A trolley in a grocery store | Source: Pexels
I should’ve been happy, but it felt off. It felt like he was trying too hard.
At that point, I was sure something was happening behind my back, but I wasn’t certain if confronting Mom and Jeff directly would help.
I knew I had to do something myself.
The final straw came on a random Tuesday. I was packing Lily’s lunch when she casually asked if her grandma would visit.
A close-up shot of a lunch box | Source: Pexels
“She always comes on Tuesdays,” she said.
“Really?” I asked. “Maybe she might come this time as well.”
And that was the point when I decided it was time to find out the truth.
That day, I left work early, determined to catch whatever was happening.
As I pulled into the driveway, I felt a knot of anxiety tighten in my chest. I quietly opened the door and stepped inside.
A woman in her car | Source: Midjourney
The house was silent, but faint murmurs drifted from upstairs. I quietly crept up the stairs, and my heart pounded louder with each step.
I stopped by the bedroom door. My breath caught as I heard Jeff sigh.
“That’s perfect,” he murmured.
I couldn’t wait any longer, so I flung the door open and froze.
What I saw wasn’t what I had imagined.
A doorknob | Source: Pexels
My mother was there, yes.
She was perched on the edge of the bed, her hands pressing firmly into Jeff’s back. His shirt was off, but it wasn’t the romantic, scandalous scene I’d feared.
It looked like a… MASSAGE.
Both of them turned to me with startled expressions, as if I were the intruder.
“What are you doing here, Mom?” I demanded.
Mom blushed, fumbling with the small bottle of lavender massage oil beside her.
“Brisa, I — this isn’t what it looks like,” she stammered.
An older woman | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, so it’s not you sneaking into my house every afternoon to play with my husband?” I shot back.
“Brisa, calm down,” Jeff said. “It’s nothing like that.”
Mom sighed, setting the oil down.
“Okay, I can explain,” she cleared her throat. “I’d been thinking about a career change, Brisa. I told you as well, remember?”
I nodded.
“I want to be a massage therapist, honey. And Jeff, well, he’s been having terrible back pain, so he agreed to let me practice on him.”
A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney
“What?” I blurted out. “But why didn’t you guys tell me?”
“I thought you wouldn’t understand,” she said. “You see, no one took me seriously when I said I wanted to change my career. You weren’t ready to accept that I didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore, and your dad also thought becoming a massage therapist was absurd. But Jeff… he was the only one who supported me.”
I couldn’t believe this was what Mom and Jeff were hiding from me. Had I really jumped to such wild conclusions?
I stared at them, feeling like the world’s biggest fool.
A woman looking at her mother | Source: Midjourney
“So… this is all about back pain and a new career?” I asked weakly.
“Yes,” Mom said, her voice soft now. “I didn’t mean to hide it, Brisa. But after how dismissive everyone was, I didn’t see the point in telling anyone except Jeff. He’s been so supportive, and I didn’t want to burden you with it.”
“And honestly, I didn’t think it was a big deal,” Jeff said. “I didn’t want to add to your stress with Christmas coming up.”
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
I let out a shaky laugh. “Well, you both could’ve saved me a lot of sleepless nights by just saying something.”
Mom leaned forward, squeezing my hand. “I’m sorry, honey. I never meant to make you feel like something was wrong.”
In that moment, I realized how quick I’d been to jump to conclusions. My mother wasn’t sneaking around. She was chasing a passion. And my husband wasn’t betraying me. He was just supporting her.
A close-up shot of a man’s face | Source: Midjourney
“I’m also sorry,” I said. “I jumped to such absurd conclusions without investigating anything… And Mom, I’m sorry for not believing in you. Go for it, please. Become a massage therapist. You’ve got my full support.”
And just like that, the tension melted away, leaving us stronger than before.
Christmas that year turned out to be one of the best we’d ever had. Mom proudly announced her plans to enroll in massage therapy school over dinner, and for the first time, we all cheered her on.
A Christmas tree | Source: Pexels
Meanwhile, Lily beamed as she unwrapped her gifts, especially the kitchen set she’d been dreaming of.
And as we sat around the tree, sipping hot cocoa and laughing, I realized how lucky I was to have a family that could weather misunderstandings and come out stronger.
It was a Christmas filled with love, trust, and new beginnings.
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: Claire thought her whirlwind romance was the start of her happily ever after—until an overheard conversation between her mother and her husband, James. Betrayed by the two people she trusted most, Claire embarks on a journey to uncover their motives and reclaim her life.
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.
Meet Nyakim Gatwec, A Model That Was Dubbed ‘Queen Of The Dark’
The woman was shocked when her Uber driver uninvitedly offered advise on how to take care of her beautiful skin.
The “Queen of the Dark,” as the fashion diva was affectionately called, laughed off his comments and embraced her breathtaking beauty.
Continue reading to find out what this Uber driver said her and how she utilized it as a teaching moment!
Nyakim Gatwech, who spent her early years in refugee camps in Ethiopia and Kenya, thought that living in America would “be like heaven.”
But when Gatwech moved to Buffalo at the age of 14, she stayed by herself a lot, crying over comments made about her very dark skin tone.
“You don’t wash your hair. Because of this, your skin is filthy.Or, “Nyakim, smile so we can see you. You are invisible to us. You have dirty skin as a result. Or grin for us to see you, Nyakim. We cannot see you.
In class, for example, the instructor might ask a question and say, “Oh, Nyakim, can you answer that?””How about a toddler asking, “Who are you talking to?”? We cannot see her. She’s not here. The now 31-year-old woman says, “I would just cry, and the whole class would start laughing,” as reported by Cosmopolitan.
The innocent young girl just wanted to fit in, but it was difficult when random people were speculating about whether or not she was indeed that dark-skinned and whether or not she was wearing leggings.
I did think about [bleaching my skin] at one time. I was 14 years old when I fled an African refugee camp and moved to Buffalo, New York. The beauty admits, “After being teased [about my skin], I would cry myself to sleep.””So many stunning Sudanese women with dark skin tones bleach their skin.”
The model continued by saying that her own sister was one of the Sudanese ladies who had bleached her skin.”It was my own sister.” However, after a few months of living in America, I told her that I wanted to, and she said no. I will not allow my kid, you, or anyone else to do it.
Dark Queen
The woman, who has encountered prejudice from makeup artists, designers, and other models, is now referred to as the Queen of the Dark and feels strong since she has triumphed over the criticism.
Additionally, Gatwech’s 962,000 dedicated Instagram fans encourage her self-assurance and amazing fondness for her deep chocolate skin tone.
“My chocolate is sophisticated. Thus, I stand for this. A country of fighters,” she writes in one of her posts.
And the incredibly beautiful woman’s admirers can’t get enough of her.
One fan writes, “Omgggggg I love your skin and melanin,” while another exclaims, “I love your beautiful skin tone so much!” God creates exquisite things like you to serve as a constant reminder of His majesty.
In response to the tremendous outpouring of love, Gatwech adds, “I learned to love myself.I’m not troubled by the negative anymore. I love and embrace my skin, and I no longer feel insecure about it. I no longer believe I’m ugly. I am confident in who I am.
“The silliest queries”
Speaking about her odd skin, Gatwech recounts about meeting an Uber driver a few years ago who asked if she would ever consider whitening it.
“Oh, you’re dark,” he remarked.Gatwech describes her chat with the driver to Cosmopolitan.”I merely chuckled. I was curious as to why he felt that I ought to. He said that because it would make my life simpler. If I were lighter, I could get into a relationship more easily and guys would be more drawn to me. I’m lighter, so if I went to a job interview, I would receive the opportunity. I just responded, “I’d rather take the [hard] road, even if] being lighter would make my life easier.”
The woman goes on, “I’m used to people asking the stupidest questions ever [about my skin].”
Gatwech then shared the story on Instagram along with a stunning picture of herself with three other stunning dark-skinned Sudanese women.
“A country with people so dark you won’t believe your eyes,” the author writes. Teeth so brilliant, skin so rich. Oh, how I cherish my nation, my people, and all that it entails.
“[SIC] I was asking my Uber driver the other day, and he said, don’t take this personally, but would you bleach your skin for ten thousand dollars?” she says, going on to describe her interaction with the driver. I couldn’t even respond because I was laughing so much.He then responded, “So that’s a no,” to which I replied, “Hell to the f*king yeah, that’s a no, why would I ever bleach this gorgeous melanin that God bless with me?””So you see it as a blessing,” he continued.
Her backers applauded Gatwech right away and raced to her defense.
“I suppose he missed the memo.”Black is gorgeous,” an admirer writes.
Another person says, “I cherish you for cherishing me.”A third wonders, “Why would we ever want to mess up something so beautiful?”
Asking Yahoo Beauty for guidance, she said, “You are beautiful, you are unique, and there are people who love you just the way you are” to young black girls suffering comparable struggles. It’s said that the juice of a cherry is sweeter the darker it is. Accept your gloom!
If you think that your family and friends will benefit from this tale, please SHARE it with them and leave a comment to let us know!
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