When Linda’s son dropped off her grandkids on New Year’s Eve without warning, it wasn’t the first time he’d assumed she was free to babysit. But after a night of missed plans and unanswered calls, Linda decided it would be the last.
It was New Year’s Eve, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I smoothed my hands over my new burgundy dress, admiring how it looked in the mirror.
A woman in a dress at home | Source: Midjourney
I’d been saving it for something special, and tonight was the perfect occasion. My hair was styled in soft waves, and the makeup I’d had done earlier gave me just the right amount of confidence.
“This is going to be a night to remember,” I said out loud, grinning at my reflection.
A happy woman smoothing her hair | Source: Midjourney
The evening felt so important. My high school classmates had planned a reunion dinner for the first time in years. At 60, time with old friends, laughing, reminiscing, and just being together felt precious.
I’d been counting down the days. Everything was planned: leave the house by seven, get to the restaurant by eight, and spend the night surrounded by people I cared about.
A smiling woman sitting at the table | Source: Midjourney
I was finishing up my lipstick when my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw Jake’s name.
“Hey, Mom!” His voice was cheerful, as usual.
“Hi, Jake,” I said, still smiling. “What’s going on?”
“Listen, we’re driving over now. We’re dropping Jenni and Lily off for a few hours. Just till midnight!”
A smiling man talking on his phone while driving | Source: Midjourney
I froze. “What? Jake, I have plans tonight. I’m going to the reunion—”
“It’s only for a little while, Mom. We’ll be back before you know it!”
“Jake, wait, I—”
But he hung up before I could finish. I stared at my phone, my chest tightening.
A concerned woman looking at her phone | Source: Midjourney
“This can’t be happening,” I muttered, glancing at the clock. It was already 6:30 p.m.
A few minutes later, I heard the crunch of tires in the driveway. I rushed to the door, hoping to reason with him.
“Hi, Mom!” Jake called out, stepping out of the car with Jenni in tow. Amanda followed behind, carrying Lily, who clutched her favorite stuffed animal.
A woman carrying her daughter | Source: Midjourney
“Jake, I can’t do this tonight,” I said firmly. “I’m supposed to be at the restaurant by seven.”
“Don’t worry,” Jake said, waving his hand like it was no big deal. “We’ll be back before midnight, I swear.”
“You don’t understand,” I insisted, my voice rising. “This isn’t fair. I have plans—”
A woman in a dress talking to her son | Source: Midjourney
“We left snacks in their bags, and they’re already in their pajamas,” Amanda cut in, smiling like she was doing me a favor. “They’ll be no trouble at all. Thanks, Linda!”
“But—” I started again, but Jake hopped back in the car.
“Love you, Mom!” he called as the car sped off.
I stood there, stunned. Jenni and Lily looked up at me with bright smiles.
Two happy sisters | Source: Pexels
“Grandma, can we watch cartoons?” Jenni asked, tugging on my hand.
I forced a smile, though my stomach was in knots. “Sure, sweetheart. Come inside.”
I settled them on the couch and handed them the remote. As they giggled over their favorite show, my phone buzzed again. It was a message from Cathy.
“The place looks amazing! Can’t wait to see you. Sending pics soon!”
A woman texting on her phone | Source: Midjourney
My heart sank. A few moments later, the group chat started filling with photos—everyone was there, beaming, glasses raised in toasts, tables sparkling with candles and decorations. They all looked so happy.
I sat down at the kitchen table, staring at my phone. The excitement I’d felt earlier was gone, replaced by disappointment and anger.
“How could they do this to me?” I whispered, feeling tears prick the corners of my eyes.
A sad woman sitting at the table | Source: Midjourney
At 11 p.m., I tucked the kids into bed. They fell asleep easily, but I couldn’t relax. I tried calling Jake, but it went straight to voicemail. Amanda’s phone? Same thing.
Out of habit, I opened Instagram, and there it was—a story from Amanda. A video of her and Jake at some fancy party, clinking glasses with friends, laughing, and having the time of their lives. The caption read: “Ringing in the New Year with the best crew!”
People having fun at a party | Source: Pexels
My jaw tightened as I set my phone down. Midnight came and went. I sat alone in the dimly lit living room, scrolling through more messages and photos from my classmates, trying to focus on their happiness instead of my own frustration.
By the time I heard the crunch of tires in the driveway, it was 3 a.m. I sat up straight on the couch, my heart pounding not from relief, but from anger.
An angry woman in a burgundy dress | Source: Midjourney
Jenni and Lily were still asleep, tucked under the blanket I’d laid over them hours ago. The sight of their peaceful faces momentarily softened me, but the frustration bubbling inside wouldn’t go away.
I stood, smoothing my hands down the dress I’d been so excited to wear earlier that evening. Now, it was wrinkled and felt more like a reminder of the reunion I’d missed.
An angry woman opening her door | Source: Midjourney
The front door opened, and Jake and Amanda strolled in, laughing softly. Amanda had her heels dangling from one hand, her makeup smudged from the long night. Jake’s shirt was untucked, his hair disheveled, but his grin was as carefree as ever.
“Hey, Mom!” Jake called cheerfully, as if they hadn’t left me stranded all night.
“Hi, Grandma!” Amanda added, waving like nothing was wrong.
A happy couple | Source: Midjourney
I folded my arms and stared at them. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” My voice was calm, but my anger simmered just below the surface.
Jake shrugged, unbothered. “Yeah, sorry about that. Our friends wouldn’t let us leave. You know how it is.”
“No, Jake,” I said, my tone turning cold. “I don’t know how it is. I don’t know what it’s like to abandon my responsibilities and assume someone else will pick up the slack.”
An angry woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney
Amanda sighed loudly, shifting her weight to one foot. “Linda, it was just one night. Can we not make this into a thing?”
“Oh, it’s a thing,” I said sharply. “A big thing. You dropped your kids off with no warning, ruined my plans, didn’t answer your phones, and then show up at three in the morning like it’s nothing. Do you even understand how disrespectful that is?”
An annoyed man | Source: Midjourney
Jake hesitated, like he wanted to argue, but I didn’t give him the chance. I stepped aside and watched as he walked over to pick up Jenni, who stirred slightly but didn’t wake. Amanda grabbed Lily, holding her close as she gave me a tight-lipped smile.
“Thanks, Mom,” Jake said sheepishly, shifting Jenni’s weight in his arms.
A man holding his smiling daughter | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t respond. I just opened the door and watched as they carried the kids to the car. When the taillights disappeared down the street, I locked the door behind them, leaning against it for support.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but the anger didn’t subside. Instead, it settled into something firmer—resolve.
“This is the last time,” I whispered to myself.
A tired elderly woman | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I drove to their place and sat them down at the kitchen table. Jake and Amanda were visibly tired, probably from their late night, but I didn’t care.
“We need to talk,” I began, my tone steady. “What you did last night was unacceptable. I missed my reunion, my plans, everything I’d looked forward to for weeks. You two need to reimburse me for my dress, my salon visit, and the money I prepaid for the dinner.”
A serious woman sitting in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Are you serious?” Jake asked, his eyes wide. “Mom, that’s petty.”
“I’m dead serious,” I replied. “This isn’t just about the money. It’s about respect for my time and my life.”
They eventually agreed to pay me back, though they grumbled about it the whole time. I set another boundary, clear and firm: no more last-minute drop-offs. They needed to ask first, or I wouldn’t be available.
An annoyed couple | Source: Midjourney
They pushed back, but I didn’t budge. By the end of the conversation, I felt empowered, determined to reclaim my time and dignity. They didn’t like it, but they reluctantly agreed.
A week after New Year’s Eve, the doorbell rang unexpectedly. I peered through the window and saw Jake and Amanda, the kids in tow. My stomach clenched. Not again.
A couple with their kids on the porch | Source: Midjourney
I grabbed my phone and hesitated for a moment, guilt tugging at me. But then I remembered the reunion, the photos I’d missed, and the way they’d brushed off my feelings.
I answered the call through the intercom. “Hi, Jake. I’m not home right now.”
There was silence before he responded. “What? Mom, we’re here with the kids.”
“I told you last week, Jake,” I said firmly. “You need to call ahead. I have plans.”
A woman in a green dress talking on her phone | Source: Pexels
“But we’re already here!” Amanda chimed in, her voice tinged with annoyance.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you this time,” I replied. My heart raced as I hung up, leaning against the wall to steady myself. I heard muffled voices outside, followed by the sound of their car pulling away.
For the rest of the day, guilt gnawed at me, but so did a sense of relief. I had stood my ground.
A woman meditating in her bedroom | Source: Pexels
In the weeks that followed, something changed. Jake began calling before visits, and when they needed help, they asked instead of assuming. I even noticed Amanda being more polite during our conversations.
These small changes made a big difference. With clear boundaries, our relationship felt lighter, more respectful. I no longer dreaded surprise drop-offs, and I felt proud for reclaiming my time.
A confident woman at home | Source: Pexels
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.
A Vietnamese Tattoo Artist Gives People Beauty and Confidence by Hiding Their Scars Under Her Designs
Without a doubt, every body is beautiful. However, individuals with delicate scars or other visible undesired marks might find it challenging to embrace this perspective. Keeping this in consideration, Ngoc Like, a skilled tattoo artist hailing from Vietnam, is performing remarkable feats with her extraordinary talent.
Her expertise lies in concealing scars and other bodily blemishes with exquisite tattoos. As a result, she enables people to rediscover their confidence and reclaim contentment with their bodies.
During her college years, Ngoc Like underwent training to become a professional designer. SShe believed that relying on artistic talent alone was not enough to effectively camouflage different types of scars. As a result, she dedicated herself to extensive research. In her opinion, each individual type of scar has its own set of characteristics and properties.
Therefore, it’s essential to invest time and effort into researching carefully in order to cover the scars in the most optimal way.
Ngoc Like holds the belief that tattooing serves not only to enhance the appearance of her clients but also to safeguard their health. Drawing from the desires and inclinations of the client, along with careful consideration of the scar’s arrangement and composition, she formulates a tailored design concept. This concept is fashioned to harmonize with both the scar’s attributes and the individual’s distinct personality.
For her, perfection is not the goal, because she believes that the most important thing is to turn one’s flaws into their advantages.
Imperfections elicit feelings of shame and discontent among individuals, driving them to seek transformation. Numerous clients have approached Like, expressing that they had never previously contemplated getting a tattoo due to the negative implications traditionally linked with such body art. However, witnessing the endeavors she pursued altered their perspective, prompting them to take the leap and place their faith in her skills.
Most of her customers are adults in their fifties to early nineties. Like says they are all polite, lovely people from all over the country. She also often spends time chatting with them so that she can share, learn, and listen to their interesting experiences.
Ngoc Like has been trying to develop her business and do her job better by building a Youtube channel, Ngoc Like Tattoo, to convey the message of daily self-love by taking care of both the body and mind to the fullest.
She also hopes to contribute to the changing view of society toward the career that she is pursuing. Other than that, Like hopes to be able to take business trips to more cities around the world as soon as possible.
When asked how her clients react when the tattoos are done Like says it’s very emotional. She conveys that it’s akin to a weight being lifted from their hearts, liberating them from long-held preoccupations. Numerous individuals reach out to her, articulating that they perceive a sense of rebirth, shedding the burden of inferiority and embracing a profound sense of wholeness, assurance, and radiance. Witnessing their newfound joy stands as the most invaluable reward for her.
Making the world a better place is something each of us can do. You don’t have to be popular, rich or powerful to do it. It is enough to make people around you happier, as Ngoc Like does. While some people with tattoos make people more confident, others show by example that all people are not perfect. And that’s a great thing.
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