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I Overheard My MIL and My Husband’s Plan to Hide the Food from Me as I’m ‘Too Fat’ — I Took Revenge on Them Both

Emily is horrified as she overhears her mother-in-law and husband whispering cruel plans in the kitchen. Their scheme to hide food from her because she is “too fat” deeply disturbs her. Determined to take a stand and end the toxicity, Emily devises a clever revenge they won’t see coming.

A plus-size woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney

A plus-size woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney

“Honey, but you don’t want to live with an elephant, do you?” Noele’s voice cut through the kitchen doorway.

I froze on the couch, my knitting needles pausing in mid-air. Did I hear that right? My heart raced as I leaned closer to listen.

A woman knitting | Source: Unsplash

A woman knitting | Source: Unsplash

“I don’t, but she’ll notice it and start asking questions,” my husband replied uneasily.

“Play dumb. And I’ll take all the food. I’m ashamed to have such a big daughter-in-law. She’s too fat,” Noele continued, her voice dripping with disdain.

A senior woman talking to a man | Source: Freepik

A senior woman talking to a man | Source: Freepik

I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. Three years ago, I gave birth to our son at 40, and my body never bounced back.

I worked long hours to support our family, and I even helped Noele financially when she needed it. How could she say such hurtful things about me?

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

I put down my knitting and stared at the wall, trying to process what I’d just heard. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away. I didn’t want to cry, not now.

My phone buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts. I realized I had been staring into space, my mind replaying last week’s events when Noele visited us.

A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

I didn’t know all the missing food was her doing. She was sneakily removing food from the fridge because she didn’t want a fat woman in her son’s life.

I took a deep breath and checked the phone. It was a message from Alexander, my husband.

A man using his phone | Source: Unsplash

A man using his phone | Source: Unsplash

It said: “Hey honey, don’t wait up. My friends are insisting I stay over for a little more time :)”

Lately, he always seemed to have an excuse to stay away. I wondered if it was because of my weight, too. Did he really see me as an elephant?

A woman sitting on a sofa | Source: Unsplash

A woman sitting on a sofa | Source: Unsplash

I put my phone down and wiped my eyes. I needed to stay strong for my son. He was the light of my life, and I couldn’t let their hurtful words break me. But it wasn’t easy.

Every glance in the mirror reminded me of their conversation. Every meal I cooked felt like a betrayal.

A happy woman cooking | Source: Freepik

A happy woman cooking | Source: Freepik

I tried to focus on the positive. I had a good job, a beautiful son, and a home that I had worked hard to build. Noele’s comments couldn’t take that away from me. Yet, the pain lingered.

As I lay in bed that night, I kept replaying the conversation I had overheard. The sting of their insults was fresh, and the more I thought about it, the angrier I became.

A woman in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman in bed | Source: Midjourney

“I can’t believe they think this way about me,” I whispered to myself, glancing at Alexander, who slept soundly beside me. “I’m the one working and buying all the food.”

I sighed and stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t fair. I had always tried to be kind and supportive. I put everyone else’s needs before my own, but what did I get in return? Cruel words and hurtful remarks.

A woman posing | Source: Freepik

A woman posing | Source: Freepik

Suddenly, it hit me. I had been too kind for too long. It was time to stand up for myself. I deserved respect and appreciation, not insults and judgment. I turned to look at Alexander again.

He seemed so peaceful, completely oblivious to the turmoil raging inside me.

A man sleeping comfortably | Source: Pexels

A man sleeping comfortably | Source: Pexels

I couldn’t keep living like this, letting their words break me down. Tomorrow, I would start making changes. I wouldn’t let Noele’s hurtful comments dictate how I felt about myself. And I wouldn’t let Alexander’s silence continue.

He needed to know how his words, or lack thereof, were affecting me. We were supposed to be partners, a team. It was time for him to step up and support me.

I woke up early, determined to put my plan into action.

Interior of a bedroom | Source: Pexels

Interior of a bedroom | Source: Pexels

After breakfast, I decided to visit the Asian market to buy some unique ingredients. As I entered the market, the variety of products overwhelmed me, but I knew exactly what I was looking for.

“Excuse me,” I said to the vendor, picking up a jar. “How much is this?”

An Asian market vendor | Source: Midjourney

An Asian market vendor | Source: Midjourney

The vendor smiled and told me the price. “These are very popular,” he said. “Great for special recipes.”

“Perfect,” I replied, adding several jars to my basket. “I’ll take these.”

A jar of Asian pickle | Source: Freepik

A jar of Asian pickle | Source: Freepik

Once I had everything I needed, I headed home. Alexander was out, and I knew Noele was supposed to come over in the evening. I had the whole day to prepare.

I took a day off from work to make sure everything was perfect. First, I emptied our fridge of all the old food items.

A stocked fridge | Source: Unsplash

A stocked fridge | Source: Unsplash

Then, I carefully filled jars and bottles with the ‘unique’ groceries I had bought, making sure they looked like the regular food jars Noele was used to seeing. I even labeled a few of them with familiar names to complete the illusion.

“This should do it,” I muttered to myself, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

A woman restocking the fridge | Source: Pexels

A woman restocking the fridge | Source: Pexels

After setting up the camera to capture Noele’s reaction, I took a step back to admire my handiwork. Everything was in place, and now all I had to do was wait.

I spent the rest of the day tidying up and making sure there was no evidence of my plan.

As the evening approached, I felt a mix of anticipation and nerves.

A smiling woman | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman | Source: Pexels

Noele arrived right on time, and I made sure to be out of the house for a few hours, giving her the perfect opportunity to raid the fridge.

When I returned home, I walked into the kitchen to find Noele pale and shaking, holding a jar filled with live insects. Her eyes were wide with shock and anger.

“What the hell is this?!” she screamed, her voice trembling.

A shocked elderly woman | Source: Freepik

A shocked elderly woman | Source: Freepik

I put on my most innocent face. “Oh, Noele, what’s wrong? Did you find something you didn’t like?”

“These… these jars! They’re filled with bugs! And some of them are still alive! Are you insane?” she shouted, her hands shaking as she held up the jar.

“Oh, those?” I replied calmly. “I thought you might enjoy some exotic snacks. I hear they’re very nutritious.”

Several jars filled with insects | Source: Midjourney

Several jars filled with insects | Source: Midjourney

“This is disgusting! How could you do this?” she yelled, her face turning red with anger.

I took a deep breath. “How could I do this?” I snapped. “How could you steal from me and insult me behind my back? You thought I wouldn’t find out? You thought I wouldn’t hear you calling me an elephant and plotting to take all the food I buy with my hard-earned money?”

A confident-looking woman | Source: Unsplash

A confident-looking woman | Source: Unsplash

Noele’s face paled even more. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words. I continued, my voice steady and firm.

“I’ve put up with your insults and disrespect for too long, Noele. I work hard to support this family, and all you do is take advantage of my kindness. Well, not anymore. This is my home, and you will respect it and me.”

At that moment, Alexander walked in, looking shocked and confused.

A man staring in shock | Source: Unsplash

A man staring in shock | Source: Unsplash

He glanced at the jar in Noele’s hand, then at me. “What’s going on here?”

“Oh, your mother is just discovering my special surprise for her,” I said calmly. “I decided to stock up on some unique groceries.”

Noele thrust the jar towards him. “She filled the fridge with insects! This is her idea of revenge!”

I wasn’t done yet.

A woman looking at her reflection in the mirror | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her reflection in the mirror | Source: Midjourney

“Actually,” I interjected, “it’s my idea of justice. You both thought you could humiliate me and take advantage of me. Well, now you know that actions have consequences. You don’t get to insult me and steal from me without facing the fallout.”

“This is outrageous! You’re out of your mind!” Noele shouted, her voice shaking with fury.

A woman in shock | Source: Freepik

A woman in shock | Source: Freepik

“Maybe,” I replied, meeting her glare. “Or maybe I’m just tired of being disrespected in my own home. You can leave now, and don’t bother coming back unless you plan to treat me with the respect I deserve.”

Noele stormed out, still clutching the jar, and Alexander stood there, speechless.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he finally said, his voice filled with shock. It was time to teach my husband a lesson.

A surprised man | Source: Unsplash

A surprised man | Source: Unsplash

“Believe it,” I said firmly. “And if you think for one second that I’ll tolerate this behavior from either of you again, think again. This is my house, and I won’t be treated like a doormat.”

Alexander looked down, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I… I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“Sorry isn’t enough,” I replied.

A woman standing with her hands on her hips | Source: Unsplash

A woman standing with her hands on her hips | Source: Unsplash

“You need to earn back my trust and respect. Until then, don’t expect things to go back to normal. And I hope you’re looking for a job. Because you clearly don’t help me at home. Maybe if I have the time, I can focus on my health, yes?”

From that day forward, the dynamic in our house changed. Noele didn’t dare to show us her face since then, and Alexander had a lot to make up for. Sometimes, you have to take a stand and teach people that you won’t be pushed around.

Do you think I was right to take a stand for myself?

A happy plus-size woman | Source: Unsplash

A happy plus-size woman | Source: Unsplash

Woman Told Her Daughter Her Father Had Died – Years Later, the Girl Discovered a Heartbreaking Truth

When Cassie returns from a getaway with her husband and son, she walks into her home to see a cryptic message from her mother — telling her to watch a video. As Cassie presses play, her entire life changes. In the end, she’s left wondering which of her parents are worthy of forgiveness.

In my eyes, my father could do no wrong. He was everything I needed him to be and more. He was a businessman who was always traveling, but he ensured that he made enough time for me.

“You’re my little girl, Cassie,” he would say, bopping my nose with his index finger. “You’re the most special.”

A father carrying his daughter | Source: Pexels

A father carrying his daughter | Source: Pexels

My parents always went out of their way for me — ensuring that despite their busy schedules, we would have family dinner almost every night.

It was the one thing that kept me grounded while both of my friends from school were in the middle of their parents’ messy divorces.

“I think it’s trendy now,” I told my mother as she cut slices of banana bread for me after school one day.

Sliced banana bread | Source: Unsplash

Sliced banana bread | Source: Unsplash

“Cas, you cannot think that divorce is trendy,” she laughed. “It’s devastating and traumatic, and very few families actually keep things civil.”

“I’m just saying that it’s trendy because a lot of kids live between two homes,” I explained to her. “It’s one of those things we were talking about in class today.”

I was fourteen, and the world seemed more dramatic than it should have been.

A smiling girl in a hoodie | Source: Pexels

A smiling girl in a hoodie | Source: Pexels

But what I didn’t know was that my words seemed to be an incantation that settled over our home.

A few weeks after that conversation, my father went away on a business trip. A few hours after he had been gone, there was news of his passing.

“How?” I asked. “How did he die?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Cassie,” she replied. “I’m just saying what the paramedics told me.”

Two paramedics standing | Source: Pexels

Two paramedics standing | Source: Pexels

“So what will we do next?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled by the question.

“For the funeral?” I asked. “Aren’t we going to have one?”

“I don’t think so,” my mother replied. “Dad wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread at the beach. Let’s do that instead.”

A black and white urn | Source: Pexels

A black and white urn | Source: Pexels

I couldn’t fathom why my mother would want to do that — but at the end of the day, she knew my father best. And the longer I thought about it, the more beautiful and sentimental a private ceremony at the beach felt.

“Don’t be difficult, Cassie,” my mother said when she saw me thinking about my next move.

“I’m not,” I said. “Really. I was just thinking about it. It’s a great idea, Mom.”

A pathway to the beach | Source: Unsplash

A pathway to the beach | Source: Unsplash

I could have fought her for a send-off that I thought would have been more appropriate. But what use would it have been? At the end of the day, we had both lost him.

The months following the beach ceremony felt weighted, and I knew that I was becoming deeply depressed — my father had been our world. And his absence was felt more than anything.

But, with time, I learned to live with it.

A girl sitting on the floor and looking out the window | Source: Pexels

A girl sitting on the floor and looking out the window | Source: Pexels

Last week, I decided to book a cabin in the woods for a little family vacation. My son was adamant that camping was the new best thing, and I knew that despite the wonders of nature, I wasn’t going to camp in a tent without a bathroom in sight.

Instead, I thought that a cabin would be the best option — my husband, Derek, could camp outside with Drew, our son, if he insisted on it.

A cabin in the woods | Source: Unsplash

A cabin in the woods | Source: Unsplash

We had a dog, therefore, I asked my mother to house-sit for the week so that we could be at peace, knowing that Romeo was taken care of.

A week away was more than enough to restore my mind — and eventually, when we went back home, I was surprised to see that my mother wasn’t there. In fact, it looked like she had never been there.

A dog lying on the grass | Source: Unsplash

A dog lying on the grass | Source: Unsplash

But there, on the coffee table, was a note beneath the TV remote.

Watch this, Cassie. I’m sorry. — Mom

I didn’t know what was in store for me, but while Derek got Drew into the bath, I put the TV on and began to watch whatever my mother had planned.

The TV flickered to life, and there he was, my father, his voice a long-lost melody, his image aged but still, unmistakably him.

A person holding a TV remote | Source: Unsplash

A person holding a TV remote | Source: Unsplash

Tears streamed down my face as the realization that he was still alive enveloped me in a mix of joy and disbelief.

The video message was nothing short of unpredictable.

My dear Cassie, I’m still here, alive. I’m so sorry for the pain that you must have felt from my loss. But it was needed. I needed to be removed from your life because of the sordid truth of my past. Your mother knows everything, please ask her for the truth.

My health is on a steady decline, and I would love to see you and explain it all.

Love you, Dad.

An old man | Source: Pexels

An old man | Source: Pexels

Without telling Derek or Drew anything, I grabbed the car keys and ran out. I needed my mother to explain.

“So, I bet you’ve got questions for me,” she said, opening the door.

“Explain it all,” I said.

“Cassie, it’s heavy. You look tired from your trip; are you sure you want to do this now?” she asked.

I nodded. It was now or never. I needed to know why my father faked his own death to get out of our lives.

My mother made us some tea and took out some shortbread.

Shortbread cookies on a plate | Source: Unsplash

Shortbread cookies on a plate | Source: Unsplash

“Darling,” she said. “I’ll understand if you don’t forgive me, but there’s so much about that time that I need to tell you.”

I sipped my tea, trying to figure out what my mother was about to tell me.

“I remember that you were telling me about your friend’s parents getting divorced. Do you remember that?” she asked.

I nodded. Of course, I did. It was the strangest thing, but it was so common when I was in school.

“Well, your father and I were not legally married. So when I told him about our conversation regarding divorce, he was actually relieved. Without being married, there would be no divorce.”

A marriage certificate | Source: Unsplash

A marriage certificate | Source: Unsplash

“What’s the big deal?” I asked.

“Then I found out that the real reason that we didn’t get married was because your father was already married to another woman.”

“What?” I exclaimed, almost dropping my cup. “To who?”

“To a woman in the town where he always had his business trips.”

“You didn’t know?” I asked, unable to believe her words.

A couple showing off their wedding rings | Source: Unsplash

A couple showing off their wedding rings | Source: Unsplash

“Of course not!” she exclaimed. “But when I pressed him about it, he decided to choose that family over us. So, I told him that the story was going to be his death.”

We were both silent for a moment.

Turns out that my mother told him that she would never tell me the truth, not when he was my favorite person. She couldn’t burst my bubble in that way. And she refused to let him see me one more time.

“It was better for you to think that it was an accident,” my mother said. “It just made more sense.”

Now, I understood why we didn’t have a funeral for him.

“What did we throw into the sea, then?” I asked.

“Dust,” she replied with a straight face.

A cloud of dust | Source: Unsplash

A cloud of dust | Source: Unsplash

My mother had spoken to him twice over the years. The second time being a day ago.

During their meeting, my father confessed his imminent death due to illness and requested that she give me the recording. My mother, torn by guilt and love, chose to write me the note and have the recording all set for me to watch.

“I would have taken the secret to my grave,” she said. “But knowing that he was ill and wanted to see you just struck something in me.”

A cemetery | Source: Pexels

A cemetery | Source: Pexels

Compelled by a need to confront the reality of my father’s existence, I traveled to the state where he lived with his other family.

I spent a few weeks with my father — going in and out of hospitals, watching him take an array of different medication, and growing weaker by the day.

Sitting at his bedside, I listened to his stories, the regrets, the moments of joy, and the love he had for all his children — myself included.

When things started to go downhill, I asked Derek to fly over with Drew. It was going to be a fleeting moment, but at least I’d know that my son had met my father.

A sick old man | Source: Pexels

A sick old man | Source: Pexels

A few days later, my father died.

Even now, I don’t know if I’ve forgiven him for the lie of having a double life. I just know that when it came to it in the end — I wanted to spend time with him. I had shoved my feelings aside, hoping for memories that I could figure out later.

But now that the dust has settled, I’m trying to figure out if I should forgive my mother for lying.

Flowers on a grave | Source: Pexels

Flowers on a grave | Source: Pexels

What would you do?

Here’s another story for you | After Celine’s father dies, she is left with having to navigate the weight of her grief. Everywhere she turns, there are pieces of her father. On her many trips to the cemetery, she finds that there are always fresh flowers left.

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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