You think you’re entering a dream when you marry the person you love. But that dream can quickly become a nightmare when you receive a list of rules about how to be a “good wife.” This is where my revenge started.
As a child, I always imagined that marriage would be different. I pictured Sunday mornings in bed, sharing laughs and secrets, and a partnership based on love and respect. But reality has a strange way of surprising you.
Dan and I had just gotten married. The wedding was perfect—small, intimate, everything I had always dreamed of. For a while, it felt like a fairy tale. Dan was kind and funny, and I truly believed we shared the same ideas about how we wanted to live our lives together. That was until Karen, his mother, gave me a gift after the ceremony.
I remember standing in our living room, still feeling happy from the wedding, when Karen came up to me with her “special” present.
“This is for you, Lucia. A little something to help you as you start your new role.” She handed me a fancy box with a big smile, but her eyes didn’t match her cheerful expression.
Inside the box was a neatly folded piece of paper. When I opened it, my mouth dropped. At the top, in bold letters, it said: “How to Be a Good Wife for My Son.”
At first, I laughed, thinking it was a joke. Maybe Karen was making fun of those old-fashioned ideas about marriage.
But as I kept reading, my smile faded. It was a real list—actual rules I was supposed to follow as Dan’s wife.
I looked at Dan, hoping he’d be as shocked as I was, but he was busy opening his own gift. A check. A big one, too. And me? I got a rulebook.
Later that evening, Dan came to me with a sheepish grin. “You got the rules my mom gave you, didn’t you?” he asked, as if it were just a casual suggestion, not a guide for a life of serving him.
“Yep… I did,” I replied, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice but not succeeding.
Dan shifted awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, you know, that’s just how it is now. Marriage is different from dating.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to smile, to say it was all a joke. But he didn’t.
“Wait… You’re serious?” I asked, looking at him like I didn’t recognize the man I had just married.
He shrugged. “It’s just how things are. Mom says it’s important to keep order, you know?”
I bit my lip, holding back a sharp reply. Keep order. That’s how they saw me now?
After Dan fell asleep, I read through the list again, my hands shaking with anger. I couldn’t believe the nerve.
At 6 a.m., I had to be fully dressed and made up, cooking a hot breakfast for Dan. No veggies, no milk, no butter—he only likes plain eggs and toast. The toast must be perfectly golden brown, and it has to be served on a blue plate because the green one ruins his appetite.
Do all the grocery shopping myself. Dan hates shopping, and it’s no place for a man. Always buy his favorite beer, but not too much—just enough for football nights, but not so much he gets lazy. And I had to carry everything in myself because it’s unladylike to ask for help.
After dinner, the kitchen had to be spotless before Dan even left the dining room. Men shouldn’t see a mess; they must enter a clean space. And always stack the plates by size, wiping the counters twice because Dan hates crumbs.
Dress conservatively when Dan’s friends come over. We don’t want them thinking I’m too “modern” or that I’m not the “right kind of wife.” A good wife never wears anything above the knee, and the neckline should always be high. Anything else would embarrass Dan in front of his buddies.
Make sure Dan never does his laundry. A good wife always has fresh, ironed clothes ready, and socks folded just right—three folds, not two—because that’s how Dan likes them. He should never have to pick out mismatched socks or wear a wrinkled shirt. It reflects poorly on me if he does.
By the time I finished reading, I was furious. This wasn’t just outdated advice; it was a full-on expectation that I cater to Dan’s every wish like I had no other purpose.
And the worst part? Dan was okay with it. He hadn’t even reacted when I mentioned the rules.
I felt trapped, but I wasn’t going to let them get away with this. If they wanted to play this game, I’d play along, but on my terms.
The morning after I read Karen’s list, I woke up at 6 a.m., just like the rules said. I got out of bed, put on my makeup, and slipped into a nice dress.
I looked at myself in the mirror, quietly laughing at how silly this all was. But if Karen wanted me to play this part, I would—just with a twist.
I went downstairs and made breakfast, just like the rules said: plain toast and eggs. But I didn’t stop there. I took the tiniest slice of toast and a plain boiled egg and put them on Dan’s huge blue plate. The plate was so big that the small meal looked ridiculous.
I carefully set it on the table, smiling sweetly as Dan walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.
He looked at the plate, confused. “Isn’t there… anything else?”
I shook my head, smiling brightly. “Just following the rules. Plain eggs and toast! Want me to make another slice?”
Dan sighed, picking up the toast. “No… this is fine.”
I stood there watching him eat the driest breakfast ever, trying not to laugh. Oh, this was going to be entertaining.
Later that afternoon, I made a big show of going to the grocery store. I took my reusable bags and left the house, making sure Dan saw me go by myself, just like the rules said.
When I got back, I carried in all the bags myself, even the heavy ones. Dan watched from the couch, clearly uncomfortable but saying nothing. As I unpacked, he frowned.
“Where’s the beer? Did you forget it?” he asked.
“Oh no, I didn’t forget,” I said cheerfully. “I just didn’t want you getting lazy. Besides, sparkling water is good for you!”
I pulled out a six-pack of sparkling water, a big bottle of green juice, and some quinoa, knowing he wouldn’t touch any of them. Dan’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything. I could see he was starting to realize something was off, but I was just getting started.
After dinner, I followed the other rules in the letter. I wiped down the counters, washed the dishes, and cleaned the kitchen—but not really.
Instead of putting everything back where it belonged, I rearranged the whole kitchen. Plates went in the bathroom cupboard, utensils in the laundry room, and the toaster? I put that in the hall closet.
Dan came into the kitchen, looking around in confusion. “Why is everything all over the place?”
I turned to him with a worried look. “I’m doing my best! Maybe I need to wipe the counters three times instead of two?”
He blinked at me, totally confused, but he let it go. The fun was just beginning.
When Dan’s friends came over for football night a few days later, I made sure to follow Karen’s rule about dressing modestly. I dug through my closet and found the most old-fashioned outfit I could: a long skirt, high-collared blouse, and a buttoned-up cardigan that looked like something from the 1800s.
As soon as Dan’s friends arrived, I walked into the living room with a tray of snacks. His friends looked me up and down, confused but polite enough not to say anything.
Dan pulled me aside as soon as he could, whispering, “You know you don’t have to dress like that, right?”
I widened my eyes innocently. “But your mom said I have to dress modestly. We wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea about me, would we?”
Dan’s friends exchanged awkward glances, but I kept smiling sweetly. The look on Dan’s face was priceless; he was starting to see that I was flipping this whole “good wife” idea upside down, and he was stuck going along with it.
Laundry day came, and I followed the rules again, but with a twist. I washed all of Dan’s clothes together: whites, darks, colors—everything went in one load. When I pulled them out, his once-clean shirts were now a lovely shade of pink, and his socks were either shrunk or mismatched.
Dan opened his drawer the next morning, pulling out one wrinkled pink shirt after another. “What happened to my clothes? These socks don’t even match!”
I walked in with an apologetic look. “Oh no! I must’ve messed up. I’ll try folding them in threes next time, just like the rules say.”
He groaned, putting on his mismatched socks before heading to work, completely defeated. I couldn’t help but smile.
By the end of the week, Dan had had enough. He was trying to eat yet another bland breakfast when Karen arrived, her usual smile on her face. She sat at the table, looking pleased.
“Lucia, I’m so glad to see you following the rules! Isn’t life easier now?”
I laughed quietly. “Oh, Karen, you have no idea.”
Dan slammed his fork down, surprising both of us. “Mom, we need to talk.”
Karen blinked, confused. “Talk about what?”
“These rules… they’re crazy,” Dan said, his voice rising. “I’m miserable, Lucia’s miserable, and this isn’t how we’re going to live.”
Karen looked shocked. “But, Dan, I just want to make sure you’re taken care of! I thought this was how marriage should be!”
Dan shot me a glance, and I shrugged. I was just following the rules, right?
“We need to find our own way,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re my wife, not my maid.”
Karen’s face fell, her smile fading. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t mean to upset you both…”
But it was too late. The damage was done. We spent the next few days talking about what we wanted our marriage to look like, finally finding a balance between his mom’s outdated ideas and our modern life.
The change didn’t happen overnight, but eventually, we found a way to laugh about the whole ordeal, especially when Dan had to explain to his mom why he was now making breakfast for me on Saturdays.
Karen never brought up the rules again, and I made sure to return the fancy box she gave me, filled with the crumpled paper and an assortment of mismatched socks. I told her I didn’t need them anymore.
Looking back, I can’t help but think that her gift, while ridiculous, actually brought us closer together. Dan and I learned how to communicate better, and we established what we wanted from our marriage without anyone else’s rules getting in the way.
I Found Gold Jewelry on My Doorstep Every Day — When I Discovered Who Was Leaving It, I Was Stunned
When Katie stumbled across a gold necklace on her doorstep one day, she thought a neighbor might have accidentally dropped it. However, upon further investigation, she realized an unknown woman was intentionally leaving jewelry at her doorstep. What she found next turned her life upside down.
My friend once told me someone had been leaving flowers on her doorstep, and she later found out it was one of her secret admirers. They later ended up dating each other. Cute, right?
But what I experienced wasn’t anything cute. Instead, it led me to a world of deceit I never knew existed.
It all started about a month ago when I was leaving for work. It was around 8 a.m., and my husband, Matt, had already left.
I picked up my bag, grabbed the car keys, and had just opened the front door when my gaze landed on a shiny gold necklace sitting right beside our welcome mat.
I immediately placed my bag on the floor and knelt to examine it closely.
“What the…” I muttered as I picked up the necklace. Its weight and texture confirmed it was REAL GOLD!
I looked around for a note or something that could explain how it ended up there, but I found nothing.
That’s strange, I thought. That’s super strange.
I quickly slid the necklace into my bag and left for work because it was already getting late.
Later that evening, I pulled the necklace out of my bag and placed it on the kitchen table. I was certain it belonged to one of our neighbors because I couldn’t find any other logical explanation for its sudden appearance.
So, I took a clear photo of it and uploaded it to our neighborhood Facebook group. I wrote, Hey, found a necklace on my doorstep, anyone missing it?
I thought I’d wake up to a few message requests on Facebook from people claiming the necklace. I even planned to ask for proof of purchase to ensure I gave it to the rightful owner. But that never happened.
I woke up to zero message requests and a few kind comments from Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Jonathan saying they’d pray the owner finds it soon. Nothing else.
So, I just kept the necklace in my jewelry box and went on with my life, hoping to give it back to its rightful owner one day. I had no idea the person who bought the jewelry was someone I knew very well.
The following day, I was leaving for work as usual when I stumbled across another piece of jewelry on my doorstep. Gold earrings.
However, this time, I felt scared. What was going on? Was it a prank? Was someone watching me? Was this the beginning of something sinister?
I walked toward the street and looked around to see if someone was there, but I couldn’t find anyone.
What am I supposed to do now? I thought as I picked up the earrings and put them on the kitchen counter. I had no idea what to do with them.
The following day, I found a gold ring on the mat. The next day, another ring. And then a diamond-studded brooch. I was so occupied with work during those days that I didn’t get the time to investigate this properly.
Then, on Friday night, I told Matt about it.
“I have no idea who’s leaving the jewelry on our doorstep but we need to do something about it,” I said. “It’s so creepy!”
“Oh, c’mon Katie,” he said, still glued to his phone. “Doesn’t sound like it’s something bad. Maybe you’ve got a secret admirer.”
He laughed it off like it was a joke, but I was sure something was off. This wasn’t normal.
So, I decided to install a camera on our doorstep hoping to catch the generous person leaving gold jewelry on our doorstep. I was shocked when I saw the footage a few days later.
It was around 5 a.m. when a woman, dressed in a black shirt and a matching cap, appeared on our doorstep with a gold necklace in her hand. The footage showed how she looked left and right before quietly placing the necklace on our mat.
Then, she walked away like nothing had happened.
I couldn’t believe it. Why would a woman leave jewelry on our doorstep? Who was she?
Curious, I decided to wake up early the next morning. I quickly made myself a cup of coffee and sat by the window, waiting for the woman to appear at our doorstep. Sure enough, just as the sun started rising, I saw this mysterious woman tiptoeing across our driveway with another piece of jewelry in her hand.
I opened the door right when she placed it on the mat.
“Hey! Stop!” I shouted before she could walk away.
She froze and stared at me with eyes wide open.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she said, dropping the bracelet on the ground as she raised her hands.
“Who are you?” I demanded. “And why are you leaving all this jewelry on my doorstep?”
She looked at the bracelet on the ground before her gaze landed on me again. This time, I could see a slight disappointment on her face, like I had said something she wasn’t expecting.
“You had to know the truth no matter how horrible it is,” she began, fidgeting with her fingers nervously. “I’m Tara, and I have been dating your husband, Matt. I had no idea he was married.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. I couldn’t believe the man I loved the most was cheating on me. I had heard of cheating stories, but I never thought it would happen to me.
“I’m so sorry,” she continued. “I had no idea he was married until I saw your picture on his phone last week. He told me he was single. I swear I didn’t know.”
I could feel a cloud of anger rising within my chest. I was angry, but not at her. I knew she was as clueless as me.
It was Matt who had betrayed me.
“So, what’s with the jewelry?” I asked, trying to stay calm.
Tara took a deep breath and leaned against the wall.
“This is all the jewelry he gave me,” she began. “I couldn’t keep it, so I decided to drop it here because it belonged to him. I didn’t know what else to do.”
I should’ve been furious, but instead, I was impressed by this woman. She returned the jewelry without creating a scene despite Matt’s manipulation.
I sensed she wanted revenge, so I devised a plan that would benefit us both.
“I have an idea,” I whispered. “But you’re going to have to trust me.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“What is it?” she asked.
That’s when I told her the plan and she agreed to execute it with me.
Later that night, I wore the bracelet Tara had dropped that day, but Matt didn’t notice or recognize it. Then, as Matt began to get ready for bed, I went to the living room and sent him a message from an unknown number, pretending to be Tara.
I wrote, Hey, I miss you. Can we meet tomorrow?
As expected, he took the bait and replied, Sure. Same place as always?
The trap was set.
The next day, Tara and I went to the restaurant where Matt thought he was meeting his lover. We picked a table at the back of the restaurant, ensuring it was hidden from the entrance. After a few minutes of waiting, I saw Matt entering the place with a smile.
He scanned the room for Tara, and his face lit up when he saw her approaching. But his smile vanished when he noticed me walking behind her.
“Surprise!” I exclaimed sarcastically.
“What’s happening?” he asked with wide eyes.
“Oh, I was just having lunch with your wife,” Tara smiled. “You never told me about her, did you?”
“I… I… uhh,” Matt stammered. “This isn’t what it looks like, Katie. Let me explain, please.”
“Explain what?” I snapped. “That you’ve been cheating on me for months, giving away jewelry like it’s candy, and lying to both of us?”
“No, I—”
“Don’t bother, Matt,” I cut him off. “We’re done. The jewelry you thought my secret admirer was leaving? That was from Tara. Did you really think you’d never get caught?”
Matt was speechless. I can never forget the look on his face.
“Oh, and one more thing. Here’s your engagement ring,” she said as she threw the ring at him. “Turns out, I’m not the only one who’s done with you.”
At that point, the entire restaurant was staring at Matt, and it looked like he wanted the earth to tear apart and swallow him. As planned, Tara and I walked out of the restaurant, leaving Matt to suffer in shame.
And that was the last time I saw my ex-husband, Matt. I immediately filed for divorce after the confrontation, and soon, I was free as a bird. I didn’t have to worry about a man cheating behind my back.
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