My MIL Thought I Was Not Beautiful Enough for Her Son, So I Entered a Beauty Contest to Win the Crown — Story of the Day

My MIL was never satisfied with me. She made a million remarks every time we met. But that day, her usual nitpicking crossed the line. Gertrude declared that I wasn’t beautiful enough for her son. That was the last straw, so I entered a beauty contest! But even there, she continued to sabotage me.

David and I had recently returned from our honeymoon, and our life together was filled with love and happiness. However, my mother-in-law, Gertrude, never took me seriously.

She criticized me constantly, no matter what I did. Even that evening, during dinner, she found faults in everything.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Grace, dear, have you ever tried seasoning the soup with thyme? It would improve the flavor significantly,” Gertrude’s tone dripping with condescension.

I forced a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, Gertrude.”

David, oblivious to the tension, looked up from his plate and said, “I think the soup is perfect, Grace.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Gertrude’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“The presentation of the food on the plates could be more refined. And that lipstick, my dear, it really doesn’t suit your skin tone.”

I bit my lip, trying to maintain my composure.

“I’ll consider that next time,” I murmured, feeling my cheeks flush.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

David, as usual, didn’t notice the tension. He was often lost in his business thoughts.

“Sorry, ladies, I have to check my email. I’m expecting an important letter,” he added, apologizing as he left.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Once he was gone, Gertrude turned to me, her smile vanishing.

“Grace, you must understand. You’re not beautiful enough for my son.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I felt a lump form in my throat but managed to nod.

Without saying a word, I left the hose and retreated to my small atelier, a place that brought me immense joy.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Designing and sewing clothes was my passion, but even this, Gertrude belittled, considering it an undignified occupation for someone in her family.

As I sat there, feeling dejected, I noticed an invitation from a friend to a beauty contest she was organizing. I picked it up, reading the details.

Despite my doubts, I decided to enter. I needed to prove my worth, not just to Gertrude, but to myself.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

The following weeks were a whirlwind of activity. When I first told David about entering the beauty contest, he was incredibly supportive.

“Grace, I think it’s a great idea,” he said, holding my hands. “You should do it for yourself.”

His encouragement gave me the strength I needed to go through with it. I underwent intensive training, attended workshops, and participated in rehearsals.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

All the contestants lived together in a hotel, cut off from their families, only interacting with each other. Many of the girls were envious and willing to do anything to win, like Chloe, who often sabotaged others.

One morning, I saw Chloe “accidentally” knock over a fellow contestant’s makeup bag, scattering its contents everywhere.

“Oops, sorry!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Despite this, I quickly made friends and impressed everyone with my kindness.

“Grace, you’re a lifesaver,” said Emma, another contestant, as I helped her fix a ripped dress.

“It’s nothing, really,” I replied with a smile. “We’re all in this together, right?”

During a rehearsal, I had a heartfelt conversation with Katie, a contestant I had befriended. We sat in a quiet corner of the auditorium, watching others practice. Chloe was listening as always.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Katie asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

“I think so,” I replied. “I’m going to present a clothing collection I designed. It’s created for everyday wear.”

“That’s amazing, Grace. You’re not just competing; you’re making a difference.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Thanks, Katie. What about you? What’s your talent performance?”

“I’m going to sing,” she said with a shy smile. “I’ve always loved singing, but I’ve never performed in front of such a large audience before.”

“You’ll be great,” I assured her. “You’ve got an incredible voice.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

Later that evening, I was in my hotel room, organizing my outfits for the next day, when there was a knock on the door. It was my friend, Lily, who had invited me to the contest.

“Hey, Grace,” she said, glancing around the room. “How are you doing? How’s the preparation going?”

“Hi! I’m a bit nervous, but everything is coming together. Thanks again, Lily, for inviting me to this contest. It means a lot.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” she said warmly. “Actually, I need you to sign some documents regarding your participation. Do you have a pen?”

“Sure, let me find one for you,” I said, turning to my desk.

When I turned back, I saw Lily quickly stepping away from my wardrobe, trying to act casual.

“Here you go.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Thanks,” she took a pen, her eyes avoiding mine. She handed me the documents, and I noticed her hands trembling slightly.

I decided not to comment on her actions. Instead, I took the documents and signed them politely.

“All done,” I said, handing them back to her.

“Great,” she said, forcing a smile. “Good luck tomorrow, Grace. I know you’ll shine.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Thanks,” I replied. “I appreciate your support.”

We exchanged pleasantries, and she left the room quickly. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but I had no time to dwell on it.

I hung the garment bag with my dress in the wardrobe and decided to get some rest. As I lay in bed, thoughts of the contest swirled in my mind.

I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

The day of the contest arrived, and everything was going well. The air buzzed with excitement as contestants performed their talents, singing, dancing, and displaying their unique skills.

When my turn came, I presented my clothing collection, each piece crafted with care and dedication. I took a moment to steady my nerves and began to speak.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Good evening, everyone. My name is Grace, and I have a deep love for designing and sewing clothes. Tonight, I want to share with you a collection that is very close to my heart.”

I gestured to the models wearing my designs as they walked across the stage. Each outfit was unique, showcasing my skills and creativity. The audience watched intently, their eyes following every detail.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I have always believed that fashion should be accessible to everyone, regardless of their circumstances,” I continued.

“That’s why my dream is to use my talent to help those in need. I want to create beautiful, affordable clothing for families who cannot afford high-end fashion. These clothes you’re seeing tonight are part of that vision.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The audience began to murmur, clearly moved by my words. I pressed on.

“Every piece in this collection will be donated to families who need them the most. It’s my way of giving back to the community and making a difference, one stitch at a time. Fashion is not just about looking good; it’s about knowing that someone cares.”

As I finished speaking, the models lined up for a final walk. The audience stood up, clapping and cheering, and my heart swelled with pride and joy.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

David and Gertrude came to congratulate me. David handed me a beautiful bouquet of pink peonies.

“You were amazing, Grace,” he said, giving me a warm hug.

“Thanks, David.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Gertrude, however, leaned in and whispered in my ear:

“Don’t celebrate too soon. This contest isn’t meant for someone like you.”

Her words stung, but I forced a smile and thanked them both.

Backstage, the emotions of the day caught up with me. But I couldn’t let Gertrude’s words break me. I pulled myself together.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Suddenly, the organizer ran up to me, looking frantic.

“Grace, we have a problem. That’s about your dress.”

“What do you mean?”

“You need to see it for yourself,” she said, leading me to the dressing area.

I opened the garment bag. My breath caught in my throat when I realized it was Katie’s dress that had been spoiled. The fabric was torn, and the seams were ripped apart.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Katie, who had been standing nearby, burst into tears.

“What am I going to do now? This contest is so important for my future.”

Everyone suspected Chloe, who had boasted about doing anything to win, but I had a different suspicion. I took a deep breath and put my arm around Katie.

“It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure something out.”

“But how?” Katie sobbed.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I thought for a moment, then made a decision.

“Katie, you take my dress for the final runway.”

Katie looked at me, shocked. “But what about you? What will you wear?”

“You need this more than I do. I can wear something else.”

“Grace, I can’t believe you would do this for me. Thank you so much.”

I smiled and handed her the dress. “Go get ready. You deserve to shine.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

As Katie hurried off to prepare, I found a simple dress I had made earlier. It wasn’t as glamorous as the one I had planned to wear, but it would do.

I changed quickly and took a moment to steady myself.

Back on stage, all the contestants appeared in stunning gowns. Katie wore my dress and looked absolutely radiant.

The audience murmured, noticing the contrast between my simple dress and the glamorous outfits around me. But I held my head high, knowing I had made the right choice.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

When it was my turn to speak about my future plans, I stated that I intended to be an ordinary woman who supported others, not chasing fame.

Once again, the audience gave me a standing ovation.

I caught a glimpse of Gertrude’s face, her eyes narrowing with frustration. It was obvious that she had orchestrated all that.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Chloe wouldn’t have had the cunning to pull off something so intricate—it was clear now who was behind it all.

The moment of truth was approaching, and soon, I would finally be able to dictate my own rules in this game with my mother-in-law.

***

The judges declared Katie the winner, and I received the People’s Choice award.

As I stood on the stage, holding my trophy. The audience cheered and applauded.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

After the contest, David found me backstage. His eyes were shining with pride and love.

“Grace, you were incredible. You don’t need beauty contests to prove your worth. You’ve already shown your inner beauty and deserve all the respect and love in the world.”

“Thanks, David,” I said, feeling a warmth spread through me. “That means a lot.”

The support from the audience, especially David, made me remember who I am.

But there was one more thing I needed to do. I approached Gertrude, who was standing near the exit and barely concealed her frustration.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Gertrude, I know you were behind the sabotage. You bribed the organizer, my former friend. She confessed everything.”

Gertrude quickly masked her surprise with a cold smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Grace.”

“Enough. This ends now. You tried to undermine me, but it didn’t work. I’ve shown my worth, and no amount of sabotage can change that.”

David stepped forward as he finally understood the situation.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Mother, Grace is right. It’s time you accept her for who she is. She deserves respect and love, and I won’t tolerate any more of your schemes.”

Gertrude opened her mouth to argue but then closed it, her face turning red with anger and embarrassment. She realized she had been caught and had no more excuses to hide behind.

“We’re leaving now,” David said, taking my hand.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“We’re going to celebrate our victory and love. You can join us if you choose to accept Grace and treat her with the respect she deserves.”

Gertrude remained silent. David and I turned and walked away, leaving her behind.

The moment of truth had arrived, and I had finally stood up to Gertrude. David squeezed my hand, and I looked up at him, feeling a deep sense of gratitude.

“Let’s go celebrate,” he said with a smile.

“Let’s do that.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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My Husband Mocked My Cooking Skills with a Powerpoint Presentation

When my husband mocked my cooking with a PowerPoint presentation in front of our family, I was humiliated. But instead of getting angry, I planned my revenge.

I had been married to Ben for almost five years, and most of the time, we were happy. I loved cooking, and I thought I was pretty good at it.

A happy couple | Source: Pexels

A happy couple | Source: Pexels

I’d been the family chef for years, and anytime we hosted, I would spend hours preparing lasagna from scratch, perfectly marinated roasts or intricate salads with homemade dressings. It was my thing, and I took pride in it.

Ben, on the other hand, could barely manage instant noodles.

A woman cooking | Source: Pexels

A woman cooking | Source: Pexels

His attempts at cooking were rare, and they usually ended with takeout or, on one memorable occasion, a pot of burnt spaghetti because he forgot to add water. Despite his lack of skill, he had an unshakable confidence about everything, cooking included.

Last Saturday, we had a family gathering at my mom’s house. As usual, I was in charge of the main meal.

A person holding a cooking pot | Source: Pexels

A person holding a cooking pot | Source: Pexels

I spent the day marinating the chicken, layering the lasagna, and tossing a big, colorful salad. By the time everyone gathered around the table, they couldn’t wait to dig in, and the compliments started flowing right away.

Then, just as everyone was starting to eat, I noticed Ben giving me a strange smirk that I couldn’t quite read. I tried to brush it off, thinking maybe he was remembering some inside joke. But then he cleared his throat and said, “You know, I’ve actually been taking notes on your cooking.”

A smiling man at a family dinner | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man at a family dinner | Source: Midjourney

I laughed, thinking he was joking. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

He went on, “I made a little presentation.” I thought he was kidding, but no. He pulled out his phone, connected it to my mom’s TV, and opened up an actual PowerPoint presentation titled “Improving Our Home Dining Experience.” The table went silent, and I sat there, stunned.

A family dinner | Source: Freepik

A family dinner | Source: Freepik

“Alright, everyone,” he began, sounding for all the world like he was on stage. “Slide 1: Too Much Garlic.” He tapped the screen, and up came a photo of garlic bulbs with the note, “Strong flavors can overpower the palate.”

My cheeks burned as he carried on. “Ben, what is this?”

Garlic bulbs | Source: Pexels

Garlic bulbs | Source: Pexels

Ignoring me, he continued. “Slide 2: Pasta Too Al Dente. We all know pasta should be tender, not crunchy,” he said, glancing around as if he were waiting for everyone’s agreement.

My sister let out an awkward laugh, and my dad coughed into his napkin. I was mortified but still too shocked to respond.

A shocked woman | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman | Source: Pexels

Then he showed “Slide 3: Not Enough Salt in the Salad,” explaining to everyone at the table how “a good cook knows salt brings out flavors.”

Finally, he wrapped up with a photo of Gordon Ramsay facepalming, captioned, “What he’d think.” He sat back with a self-satisfied grin, glancing around for applause.

A smiling man | Source: Freepik

A smiling man | Source: Freepik

The room was quiet. My mom broke the silence with a forced chuckle. “Well, Ben, that’s… certainly creative,” she said, trying to smooth over the awkwardness.

I sat through the rest of the meal in silence, too humiliated to meet anyone’s eyes.

When we got home, I didn’t wait a moment before I turned to him. “Ben, what was that?” I asked.

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

“It was all in good fun, babe,” he replied with a shrug. “You take cooking seriously, so I thought you’d appreciate some feedback.”

“Feedback?” I shot back. “Ben, you humiliated me in front of my family! How could you possibly think that was appropriate?”

“Relax,” he said, brushing it off. “You’re overreacting. I was just trying to help.”

A man talking to his upset girlfriend | Source: Pexels

A man talking to his upset girlfriend | Source: Pexels

“Help?” I repeated, hardly believing it. “Ben, you can’t even toast bread without setting off the smoke alarm. Who are you to critique my cooking?”

“It was just a joke,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’re being way too sensitive.”

I stared at him for a moment, feeling the last bit of my patience snap. “Fine. If you’re that much of a food critic, cook for yourself. I’m done.”

A couple with arms crossed | Source: Pexels

A couple with arms crossed | Source: Pexels

He laughed like he didn’t believe me. “Oh, come on, you’re not serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious, Ben,” I said, crossing my arms. And I meant every word.

After that humiliating dinner, I had no plans to let Ben off easy. The more I replayed the scene in my mind, the angrier I became. But instead of yelling or sulking, I decided on something better. If Ben thought PowerPoint was the way to go, well, I’d give him a presentation of my own.

A woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels

A woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels

Over the next week, I poured my energy into creating “Improving Our Financial Experience.” It was hard not to laugh as I worked; my slides grew more ironic with every detail I added. This would be my perfect little payback, delivered with the same over-the-top style he’d used.

Slide 1 was titled “If We Could Afford a Vacation.” It opened with a dreamy stock photo of a sunny beach, complete with palm trees and turquoise waves.

A sunny beach | Source: Pexels

A sunny beach | Source: Pexels

Underneath, I’d written, “If we had a little more financial flexibility, maybe we could be here instead of at home this summer!” A few bar graphs followed, showing how our current income made a tropical vacation “not feasible at this time.”

Slide 2 covered “Home Improvements: If Only We Could Budget for It.” A shiny, fully remodeled kitchen filled the slide, with sleek appliances and granite countertops.

A modern kitchen | Source: Pexels

A modern kitchen | Source: Pexels

Below, I added, “Imagine the potential if we had some extra funds!” Next, I displayed a cost analysis of his favorite weekly splurges (a bit of reality check disguised as humor) and labeled it, “Potential Savings: Cooking at Home.”

Slide 3 had “Fine Dining (If We Didn’t Eat Out So Often),” complete with mouthwatering photos of elegant dishes from a nearby Michelin-starred restaurant.

Gourmet dishes | Source: Pexels

Gourmet dishes | Source: Pexels

I’d even put together a line chart comparing our monthly dining expenses to what we’d need to save for a special night at a place like that. A little brutal, maybe, but I was having too much fun by this point to care.

Finally, I wrapped it up with “Goals for a Strong Financial Future.” For the closing slide, I added an aspirational quote from an entrepreneur about achieving one’s dreams.

A man in a sharp suit | Source: Pexels

A man in a sharp suit | Source: Pexels

Right below, I inserted a motivational poster of a man in a suit pointing to the words, “Hard Work Pays Off.” I figured it would hit just the right note of playful irony.

The timing couldn’t have been better. We had another family gathering coming up, and I knew exactly when to roll out my masterpiece.

A woman plotting something | Source: Freepik

A woman plotting something | Source: Freepik

On the day of the gathering, I kept a straight face through dinner, politely accepting compliments on my lasagna without bringing up the previous incident. Ben was all smiles, seeming to believe the PowerPoint incident had already been forgotten. After dinner, while everyone was relaxing in the living room, I stood up.

“Hey, everyone,” I said, clearing my throat with a grin, “I actually have a little presentation I’d like to share.”

A smiling woman at a family dinner | Source: Freepik

A smiling woman at a family dinner | Source: Freepik

Ben looked at me, surprised. “Oh? What’s this about?”

“Oh, just a few notes I’ve been working on.” I grabbed the remote and connected my laptop to the TV. The screen lit up with the title, “Improving Our Financial Experience.”

A few of my family members snickered, glancing at Ben. He looked uneasy, glancing around as if he’d just realized where this was going.

Smiling people in a family dinner | Source: Pexels

Smiling people in a family dinner | Source: Pexels

“Alright, Slide 1,” I said, clicking to a picture of the tropical beach.

Ben’s face went red as our relatives chuckled. My mom shot me a curious smile, realizing what I was doing.

“Slide 2: Home Improvements—If Only We Could Budget for It.” I clicked to the next slide, revealing the remodeled kitchen photo with its sleek appliances.

A woman talking at a family gathering | Source: Freepik

A woman talking at a family gathering | Source: Freepik

A few of my relatives laughed openly, and my dad nodded in agreement. Ben shifted in his seat, looking more uncomfortable by the second.

“Slide 3,” I continued, “Fine Dining, and How Cutting Back Could Help Us.” At this point, Ben looked like he wanted to disappear, his face flushed and eyes darting around the room.

Finally, I reached the last slide. I smiled and concluded, “With a little focus and effort, we can accomplish anything, don’t you think?”

A smiling confident woman | Source: Pexels

A smiling confident woman | Source: Pexels

There was a moment of silence before my mom burst into laughter, followed by everyone else. Ben chuckled awkwardly, trying to play along, though it was clear he wasn’t quite as amused as everyone else.

When we got home that night, Ben closed the door and let out a long sigh. “Alright, message received,” he said, hands raised. “I guess I deserved that.”

A tired man | Source: Pexels

A tired man | Source: Pexels

“More than deserved,” I replied, crossing my arms. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before you try to ‘critique’ my cooking in front of everyone.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “You’re right. I was out of line. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just… thought I was being funny.”

“Well, now you know how it feels,” I replied, though I softened my tone, relieved he seemed to understand.

A man comforting his woman | Source: Pexels

A man comforting his woman | Source: Pexels

Ben gave a small, sheepish smile. “So… does this mean you’ll cook again?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help smiling. “Maybe,” I said, “but only if you promise to leave the ‘feedback’ out of it.”

A happy hugging couple | Source: Pexels

A happy hugging couple | Source: Pexels

“Deal,” he said, chuckling. “From now on, you’re the chef.”

And with that, our “PowerPoint wars” were officially over.

Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: Ethan criticizes Amanda’s cooking and calls her worthless in the kitchen, but she’s had enough. Determined to prove him wrong, she devises a secret plan. But how will this housewife turn the tables on her husband, who has been dismissive of her efforts all these years?

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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