For my 35th birthday, my husband handed me a beautifully wrapped box and a smug grin. Inside was a gift that shattered my confidence and lit a fire in me. A year later, I delivered a surprise of my own, one that left him begging for forgiveness.
The house buzzed with laughter and chatter. Balloons in soft pastels floated near the ceiling, and a “Happy Birthday” banner stretched across the living room. Plates of snacks and cake slices sat on every table.
A table set for a formal dinner | Source: Pexels
My kids ran around, giggling, their faces sticky with frosting. Friends and family filled the room, glasses clinking in celebration.
“Okay, okay! Everyone quiet!” my husband, Greg, called out, raising his phone. He grinned as he started recording. “The birthday girl is about to open her gift!”
I smiled nervously, my heart pounding. Greg wasn’t usually one for surprises, so this had to be something special.
A woman smiling during her birthday dinner | Source: Midjourney
He handed me a box wrapped in glittery paper. “Go on, babe,” he said, giving me an encouraging nod.
“What is it?” I asked, holding the box carefully. It wasn’t very heavy, but it had some weight to it.
“Open it and find out!” Greg said, still filming.
I tore at the paper, revealing a sleek black box. I opened it, my smile freezing as I stared inside. A digital bathroom scale gleamed up at me.
A bathroom scale | Source: Pexels
“Wow,” I said, forcing a laugh. “A weighing scale?”
“Yes!” Greg exclaimed, laughing loudly. “No more ‘big-boned’ excuses, babe. Just figures!”
The room went quiet, save for a few nervous chuckles. My cheeks burned. I glanced around at the guests, who avoided eye contact. I did put on a lot of weight while carrying our third baby and didn’t have any time to lose it while breastfeeding and managing the house.
A sad woman at a formal dinner table | Source: Midjourney
“Thanks,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “This is… thoughtful.”
Greg clapped his hands. “I knew you’d love it!” he said, oblivious to my discomfort.
That night, after the guests left, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks as my husband snored beside me, oblivious.
I thought back to his laughter and the way everyone had looked at me. The shame was unbearable.
A sleepless woman in bed | Source: Midjourney
But then another feeling rose—anger.
“This isn’t how it ends,” I said aloud, wiping my tears. “I’ll show him. He’ll regret this.”
The next morning, I laced up my old sneakers. “Just a walk,” I told myself. “One mile. You can manage that.”
A woman in athletic wear | Source: Freepik
The air was crisp as I stepped outside. My muscles ached from lack of use, and my feet protested with every step. As I trudged along the sidewalk, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a store window. My heart sank.
“This is pointless,” I thought, slowing down. “What difference can one walk make?”
A woman standing on a street | Source: Midjourney
But then, I remembered Greg’s laugh and those cruel words. My hands clenched into fists. “One walk is a start,” I told myself firmly. “Just keep going.”
I came home sweaty and exhausted, but a tiny spark of pride warmed me. The next day, I did it again. And the day after that.
A woman exercising by the water | Source: Freepik
I began swapping my sugary morning coffee for green tea. At first, it tasted like warm grass, but I stuck with it. Instead of chips, I snacked on apple slices. It wasn’t easy. The kids’ snacks called to me from the pantry, and the temptation to quit nagged at me.
One night, as I stared at the chocolate bar Greg had left on the counter, I whispered, “No. This isn’t who I want to be anymore.” I grabbed a handful of almonds instead.
A woman stretching her hand out to grab a chocolate bar | Source: Midjourney
Two months in, I was walking two miles a day. My pace quickened, and my breath no longer came in ragged gasps. My scale showed that I’d lost seven pounds. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
I decided to try yoga. A YouTube video promised “gentle stretches for beginners,” but 10 minutes in, I was sweating buckets and cursing the instructor’s calm voice. Still, I kept at it, laughing at myself when I toppled over during tree pose.
A woman in a yoga class | Source: Freepik
“Mom, you look funny!” my youngest giggled, pointing at me.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” I said with a grin. “I feel funny, too.”
As the weeks passed, my body grew stronger. I noticed my clothes fitting better. A friend I hadn’t seen in months stopped me at the grocery store.
“Wow, you look amazing!” she said, her eyes wide. “What’s your secret?”
“Just taking care of myself,” I replied, feeling a glow of pride.
A woman in a grocery store | Source: Pexels
By the time my youngest started daycare, I was ready for the next step. I joined a gym and signed up for a personal trainer. The first session was brutal. I felt out of place among the sleek, fit women lifting weights with ease. But my trainer, a kind woman named Emma, encouraged me.
“Everyone starts somewhere,” she said. “You’re here, and that’s what matters.”
A fitness class | Source: Pexels
Six months in, my transformation was undeniable. The scale showed I’d lost 30 pounds, but the real victory was how I felt. I could chase my kids around without gasping for air. My arms, once soft and weak, were now strong and toned.
One afternoon, while shopping for new clothes, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. For the first time in years, I smiled at my reflection. “You did this,” I whispered. “You’re incredible.”
A woman smiling at her reflection | Source: Pexels
Strangers began complimenting me. A barista at my favorite café said, “You have such a glow about you!” My confidence soared.
That’s when I decided to take it further. I enrolled in a fitness trainer certification course. It was tough juggling classes, workouts, and motherhood, but I was determined. I wanted to help other women feel as empowered as I did.
A woman working out | Source: Pexels
The day I passed my final exam, I celebrated with my kids. “Mom’s a trainer now!” I announced, pulling them into a hug.
“You’re the strongest mom ever,” my oldest said, beaming up at me.
“No,” I said, smiling. “I’m just the happiest.”
A woman hugging her son | Source: Pexels
As I hung my certificate on the wall, I thought back to where it all began. The scale Greg had given me still sat in the bathroom, but it no longer held power over me. It was just a tool, not a measure of my worth.
My journey wasn’t over, but I had become stronger.
A laughing woman | Source: Pexels
Greg didn’t notice me at first. For months, he came home late, barely glancing in my direction as he settled into his usual spot on the couch. But then, after I lost nearly 40 pounds and started wearing clothes that hugged my toned figure, something shifted.
One evening, as I served dinner, he looked up from his phone. “You’re really looking great these days, babe,” he said, a sly grin spreading across his face.
A man working in his living room | Source: Pexels
“Thanks,” I replied curtly, not bothering to meet his eyes.
Over the next few weeks, his compliments came frequently. “I always knew you had it in you,” he said one morning, watching me prepare a smoothie. “Guess my little push worked, huh?”
I froze, the blender’s hum momentarily drowning out his words. A “push”? That gift—his thoughtless, humiliating scale—wasn’t a push. It was a shove into pain and shame. I kept my face neutral and sipped my drink, but inside, I simmered.
A woman with a blender | Source: Pexels
Soon, Greg began inviting me out to dinner. “Let’s reconnect,” he suggested. He bragged about my transformation to his friends, saying, “She couldn’t have done it without me.” His words turned my stomach.
I realized his sudden attention was about control. He saw me as his accomplishment, his trophy. But I wasn’t anyone’s trophy. Not anymore.
An angry woman in a green sweater | Source: Pexels
As Greg’s birthday approached, I knew exactly what I would give him. I bought a box the same size as the one he had handed me a year ago. I even used the same glittery wrapping paper.
His birthday party was a small gathering at home, just a few friends and relatives. I set the wrapped box on the table and smiled sweetly. “Here’s your gift, Greg. I hope you like it.”
A man receiving a gift box | Source: Pexels
His face lit up as he tore into the wrapping paper. When he lifted the lid and saw the crisp stack of divorce papers, his smile vanished.
“What…what is this?” he stammered, his hands trembling.
“Figures, babe,” I said calmly. “No more ‘married excuses.’ I filed for divorce.”
The room fell silent. Greg’s face turned pale, and then bright red. He stood, knocking his chair back. “You’re joking, right? This is a joke!”
A shocked man in a red polo | Source: Pexels
“No joke,” I replied, standing tall. “You made me feel small, Greg. You didn’t believe in me, but I believed in myself. And now, I’m done.”
He dropped to his knees, his voice pleading. “Please, don’t do this! I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was all a misunderstanding. You’re amazing now—all thanks to me!”
I shook my head, my voice steady. “No, Greg. It’s thanks to me. I’m stronger than you ever gave me credit for.”
An angry woman with her hands crossed | Source: Freepik
I grabbed my gym bag, my heart lighter than it had been in years. I walked past the stunned faces of the guests, out the door, and into the crisp evening air.
That week, I moved into my new apartment, filled with light and warmth.
For the first time in years, I felt free. And that was the greatest gift of all.
A smiling woman in an orchard | Source: Pexels
Days before she died, a courageous young girl was brought down the aisle by her father to marry her school sweetheart
If you ask any parent in the world, they’ll probably tell you that they would do anything for their child. Our lives transform in the most profound ways the day we become parents. We acknowledge that we will take care of, treasure, and worry about the new life we have brought into the world for the remainder of our days here on Earth.
However, regrettably, there are some things that parents are powerless to stop. Each year, far too many children suffer from circumstances and illnesses that are completely beyond their control. Accidents and disease are as much a part of human life as happiness and celebration.
The day Alina and Aaron Edwards found out that their nine-year-old daughter, Emma, had been diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukaemia, altered their entire world. They were dealt a heartbreaking blow when physicians informed them after a few months that there was nothing more they could do to save Emma’s life, despite their obvious anguish and desperation to hold onto the hope that she could overcome cancer.
With the limited time they had left, Emma’s anguished parents resolved to do everything in their power to grant their daughter’s desires. Of course, it goes without saying that the great majority of kids would relish the opportunity to meet a famous hero in such a situation, maybe go to Disneyland or watch their idol compete on the pitch.
Emma, however, had completely different wishes. She requested permission to wed DJ, her ten-year-old boyfriend. After Sunday, I will have so much more to say and so many people to thank, but for now, my brain is simply not working properly, and I
Emma’s campaign quickly gained a lot of support from her neighbourhood. The group of supporters and volunteers took on the moniker “Emma’s Army” and decided to fulfil this young girl’s aspirations before it was too late. Emma’s family eventually received assistance in raising money from the Make-A-Wish Foundation. “Most kids want to go to Disneyland, but Emma wanted to get married, be a wife, and have three kids,” Emma’s mother Alina clarified.
Reports state that Emma and DJ had attempted to get married before their “wedding.” When they were eight years old, the two kids attempted to tie the knot in school, choosing their own groomsmen and bridesmaids from among their peers. Sadly for Emma and DJ, though, their teacher would not allow the wedding to take place, no matter how informal.
But this time, their second attempt at marriage had the support of many wonderful people who wanted Emma to have the day of her dreams, as well as the approval of their parents. In less than two days, we put it together, and everything was donated in the end. It came together so beautifully and was so wonderful, Alina disclosed.
When the big day finally arrived, it was recorded on tape featuring interviews with a few guests, including the DJ and the groom. She struck me as the most gorgeous person I have ever laid eyes on. I’ve adored her ever since,” DJ remarked. Alina, on the other hand, was gushing about her daughter’s charming young partner. She sent a tearful message on Facebook that said
Since third grade, DJ has been Emma’s “Boo bear.” I promise that watching these two adorable together will make your heart melt. Her heart leaps when DJ helps and shields her. She adores him. I also know that he adores her! He has supported her through all of her highs and lows, never letting her smile. DJ and his family will always remain connected.
Emma’s big day finally arrived on June 29 when she arrived at the location pushed by her parents in a wheelchair. For the event, she dressed elegantly in purple, and she grinned as her father led her down the aisle. After exchanging vows and rings, Emma and DJ finished the ceremony with a kiss from DJ to his bride.
Emma went back to her bed to recuperate after the wedding, but everyone could see how happy she was to have experienced her special day. After her battle, young Emma passed away a few weeks later on July 11, 2023.
Emma’s obituary stated: “On July 11, 2023, Emma Brooks Edwards passed away and was embraced by her closest loved ones as she entered paradise in the tender arms of her great-grandma Frannie Annie. Emma, then ten years old, fought leukaemia, dubbed “The imposter,” for sixteen months.
The Edwards family was completed with the birth of Emma, our little unicorn, on April 22, 2013, to devoted parents and three elder siblings. She cherished DIY projects, clever jokes, her loved ones, Jesus, and her brand-new “husband,” DJ. To everyone she encountered and to those who loved her, Emma was an inspiration. She was the most wonderful friend, cousin, aunt, “wife,” haha, sister, grandchild, and cousin. Her legacy is one of humour, fortitude, and unending love for everyone.
Emma, rest in peace. A young girl of such beauty, taken far too soon. Please join us in extending our condol
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