A woman goes through a rude awakening in a cafe and decides to do something about it — the first thing to go was her husband, but did he deserve it?
Debra Skye was a 52-year-old woman who was very much young at heart. Although she was in her 50s, she did not recognize herself as an old woman — not that she had a lot of time to dwell on the subject, since she had to work three jobs to support her family.
Her husband, Austin Skye, had slowly become a financial burden after he lost his job more than two decades ago.
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At first, he spent all his time looking for a new job without luck, but after some time, he stopped searching. Austin slowly grew accustomed to life as a dependent without any responsibilities, and gradually, his hobby became lying on the couch in front of the TV, drinking beer, and eating chips.
His body was the first thing to change, followed by everything else. He was well-fed and clothed even though he was no longer working.
It was a dream come true for a man who was always lazy at heart. Everything was enough for him, thanks to Debra working different jobs, but he did not seem to notice how hard she was trying.
They had married when they were barely adults; Debra was 19 while he was 20, and they had been completely in love with one another.
That love was what Debra thought about as she continued to hope that Austin would once again start putting himself out there for work. She even remained his staunch supporter at times when their relatives ganged up to ridicule him.
They got married so early in their lives because she had gotten pregnant with their daughter, Kayla. Of course, there would have been consequences if they had not wed, but their love had made it a simple, even natural, decision.
Their daughter, like them, also got married early and gave birth to a child who would grow up without his father because the man divorced Kayla.
Left to fend for her child while not being able to go to work because of the minor child in her care, Kayla needed help, and Debra was who she asked for it.
A dependable mother, Debra chose to pitch in financially, giving Kayla a steady allowance to care for herself and her child.
Never once did the steady supply of money waver, and it made Kayla complacent with finding her own source of income. She stopped trying to search for a suitable workplace and started depending solely on the allowance she was receiving.
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It continued that way for a long time until one day, Debra was jolted to a painful realization. That day had been just like any other; the woman left her home early and stopped at Starbucks for her coffee.
Once in the cafe, she joined a line three people long and patiently stood waiting for her turn while keeping an eye on her watch.
“Gordon will eat me alive if I arrive late today,” she thought to herself.
Her boss knew how many jobs she worked and usually cut her some slack, but Debra knew she had been pushing her luck in recent days. As she impatiently tapped her feet, several teenagers brazenly walked into the cafe and cut in line just when it was her turn.
The cashier, a young man with a bored look on his face, said nothing and simply started serving them. Debra couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Excuse me?” she said through gritted teeth. “Don’t you see me standing here? It was my turn!”
“I’m sorry ma’am, kids will be kids right?” the man behind the counter said, offering an awkward smile.
“What’s your deal anyway?” one of the teenagers said.
“Yeah, got somewhere you have to be?” another said in a mocking voice.
“I don’t think pensioners have anywhere they need to hurry to,” the third teenager said.
“You can stand in the queue all day if you want,” they chorused as they moved to the other end to collect their orders. Debra had never encountered such unruly children before, and it shocked her but not as much as what they said.
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When she returned to her car, she took a long time staring at herself in the mirror. The woman she saw looked very tired. Many wrinkles had become evident on her face, and her dark hair was slowly giving way to grey. Debra couldn’t remember when the gray strands first appeared, and it reminded her of how much she had been neglecting herself.
“I can’t even recall the last time I was in a hair salon,” she thought in despair.
The thought made her wonder what she had been doing all that time, and an answer immediately emerged — slaving away.
It made her very upset and realize that all her life, all she had been doing was trying to please her family, at the expense of her own well-being. “This has to end,” she told herself.
The first thing Debra did was call her daughter to inform her of her decision.
“Hello Mama, I was just going to call you,” Kayla said as soon as she picked up the call. “I was hoping you could send me my allowance earlier than Friday?”
“No Kayla, I will not do that,” Debra said, annoyed that her daughter had not even let her speak.
“What? Mama, why?” Kayla complained.
“Because you’ve grown too complacent with your lot in life. It’s time for you to wake up.”
“What are you saying, Mama?”
“I’m saying effective immediately your allowance is terminated and you’ll no longer be receiving it. If you want money, get out there and work for it.”
With that, Debra hung up and went in search of a beauty salon, where she had her hair dyed before getting a beautiful haircut, manicure, and many other procedures.
She turned her phone off to enjoy what had become a novel experience, and after that, she headed to a mall and got herself several beautiful dresses, one of which she decided to go home in. Her old clothes did not leave the mall with her.
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Upon arriving home, her husband, who had picked up a call from her boss redirected to their landline, asked where she had been.
“Two of your bosses said you didn’t turn up for your shifts,” Austin said from his position on the couch. When he turned around to look at Debra, he coughed up the bite of chips he had just swallowed.
“Debs, is that you?” he asked wide-eyed.
“Yes, it is,” she replied stiffly.
“You went clothes shopping and all when you were supposed to be working?” he asked her angrily.
She gave him a vague answer but he started scolding her about how much money she wasted treating herself to all those nice things.
They were in the middle of that heated conversation when Kayla walked into the house with all the confidence of a righteous person done wrong. “Why would you cut my allowance off?” she asked without pausing to read the room.
After a moment, she took in her mom’s new look and pointed out how comfortable she was spending so much on herself while refusing to help her.
Debra had to take a moment to calm herself down before responding by explaining what had happened to her daughter. The girl was still trying to contain her shock when her mother turned to her father and revealed her desire to get divorced.
“I’m done cleaning up after you Austin,” she said. The man was shocked. He could not understand why she suddenly turned upon them, but Debra did not back down.
“For the past two decades, I have shouldered this family’s financial burdens. But now I’m tired and would like to focus that energy on myself,” Debra said tearfully. It was like admitting defeat, but what choice did she have? Those she was fighting for had given up a long time ago.
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“I want you to leave,” she said.
“What? You can’t mean that,” Austin said.
“I do,” she said, then went past him to get to their room. After that night, Austin’s bruised pride caused him to move out of their home without trying to beg for forgiveness, and Kayla stopped asking Debra for money.
A month later, Debra quit her hard and disliked jobs and settled with one that really brought her passion. She lived her life, traveled the world, and when she could, helped her daughter to look after her grandson.
Debra never regretted her decision to divorce her husband even though he begged her to return after he found a job. “I will keep your offer in mind,” she’d told him, and he had not stopped trying to deserve her ever since.
What can we gain from this story?
- Self-love is non-negotiable. Debra sacrificed for her family without thinking about herself until the rude kids pointed out just how much it was affecting her. Her awakening brought about change, and she was able to start living for herself once more.
- Never stop trying. Kayla and Austin gave up so easily because they were getting all they needed through Debra, who never complained. They forgot that the only way to move forward was by trying, but luckily Debra was there to remind them.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a man who kicks his daughter out of the house only to meet her years later as a helpless, homeless beggar.
My Mother-in-Law Moved in with Us After Her House Was Flooded – I Was Shocked When I Discovered Her True Motive
When my mother-in-law moved into our home without warning, I thought it was just about a plumbing issue. Turns out, she had another mission. And let me tell you, her tactics were more relentless than I ever imagined.
I came home that evening after a long, exhausting day, craving nothing more than peace and quiet. But as soon as I opened the door, I knew something was wrong. There were boxes everywhere. My heart skipped a beat.
I dropped my bag by the door, carefully stepping over a pile of shoes, and followed the trail of clutter down the hall. That’s when I saw her. My mother-in-law, Jane, was in the guest room, unpacking like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Clothes were strewn across the bed. Her flowery perfume clung to the air, and photos of her cats had already claimed the nightstand.
“Mom?” My voice was tight, a forced calm. “What’s going on?”
Without so much as glancing in my direction, she waved a hand, casually saying, “Oh, didn’t Joe tell you? My house had a little ‘incident.’ Pipes burst and flooded the whole place. I’ll be staying here for a while until it’s sorted.”
I blinked. Flooding? That didn’t sound right. She lived in a freshly renovated house, nothing but top-tier everything. I hadn’t heard a single complaint about it until now.
Before I could even begin to process, Joe appeared behind me. He looked guilty, eyes darting anywhere but at me. “Yeah… about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly shifting his weight. “Mom’s gonna stay with us for a bit. Just until the house gets fixed.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I asked, my glare piercing.
He shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s only for a little while, babe. You and Mom get along, right?”
Get along? If by “get along,” he meant the passive-aggressive remarks about how we’d been married for six years and still hadn’t given her any grandkids, then sure. We were best friends. But I plastered on a smile, the kind you give when you’re two seconds away from snapping. “Of course. I totally understand.”
Hours later, after I’d pretended everything was fine, I got up for some water. As I passed the kitchen, I heard them talking in hushed voices.
“You didn’t tell her the real reason, did you?” Jane’s voice was sharp, like a knife slicing through the night.
Joe sighed. “No, Mom. I didn’t.”
“Well,” Jane huffed, “I’m here to keep an eye on things. Married this long with no children… someone’s got to figure out what’s going on. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”
My stomach twisted. This wasn’t about pipes. She was here to snoop. To pressure me about kids. To “handle” me. I stood frozen in the hallway, blood boiling. What the hell had I just walked into?
The next morning, I woke up with a plan. If Jane wanted to play her little game, I’d play mine. But I wasn’t going to get into a battle of wits with her. No, I was going to kill her with kindness. By 8 a.m., I had already started phase one of my “operation.”
I cleared out our entire master bedroom. Every piece of clothing, every picture frame, every trace of Joe and me was stuffed into the tiny guest room. I even found Jane’s favorite floral bedspread from the back of the linen closet and spread it over the bed like I was preparing a five-star hotel suite.
When I was done, I stood in the doorway, surveying my work. The bedspread was pristine, her cat pictures were lined up on the dresser, and to top it off, I made a “Welcome to Your New Home” basket. Bath bombs, lavender-scented candles, fancy chocolates.
By the time Joe got home from work, I was already sitting in the cramped guest room, arranging our clothes into whatever space I could find. He walked in, his forehead creased with confusion. “Why are you in here?” He peeked around the corner. “Where’s our stuff?”
“Oh, I moved everything,” I said, turning to him with the sweetest smile I could muster. “Your mom deserves the master bedroom, don’t you think? It’s only fair. She needs the space more than we do.”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “You… gave her our bedroom?”
“Of course,” I said with a grin. “She’s family, after all. We’ll be just fine in here.”
Joe stood there, mouth half open, processing what I’d done. But what could he say? Jane was his mother, and I wasn’t technically doing anything wrong. He sighed and walked out of the room without another word.
For the next few days, I made sure Jane was living like royalty. Fresh towels every morning, little snacks placed on the nightstand, and those lavender candles I knew she loved.
She wandered around the house like she owned the place, smiling at me like she’d won. But while Jane was lounging in luxury, Joe was starting to crack. Sharing the guest room was driving him nuts. Not just the lack of space, but his mom’s new obsession with prepping him for fatherhood.
Every morning, without fail, she’d hand him a schedule of vitamins.
“You need to take these, Joe,” she’d say, thrusting a multivitamin at him. “It’s important to get your body ready if you want healthy kids.”
Joe would roll his eyes but take the pills just to keep her quiet.
It didn’t stop there. “Should you really be watching TV at night?” she’d ask over dinner. “That’s not very baby-friendly. You should be reading parenting books. Or exercising. And no more video games! You need to mature, Joe. Fatherhood is serious.”
By day four, I found Joe sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at a stack of parenting books his mom had ordered online.
“I think I’m losing it,” he muttered, holding up a book titled “What To Expect When You’re Expecting.” “She expects me to read this.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Well, Joe,” I said, suppressing a laugh, “you did say we’d be just fine, didn’t you?”
It was relentless. Jane had taken things up a notch. One evening, she handed Joe a neatly typed list of “fertility-boosting” foods. Kale, quinoa, grilled salmon—no more burgers, no more pizza. She smiled sweetly as if she was doing him the world’s greatest favor.
“Your future kids will thank you,” she chirped.
Joe stared at the list like it was a death sentence. “Wait, no pizza? Ever?”
“That’s right, dear,” she said, patting his shoulder. “I’ve planned all your meals for the week. You’ll feel so much better once you start eating clean.”
That night at dinner, we sat around the table eating dry salmon and tasteless kale. Jane watched Joe like a hawk, her eyes flicking from his plate to his face. He shifted uncomfortably, picking at his food.
“Joe,” she started, “did you take your vitamins this morning?”
He sighed, stabbing a fork into the kale. “Yeah, Mom. I took them.”
“And what about the gym? Did you make time for that? You know, you’ve put on a little weight. It’s important to be in shape if you want to be a good father.”
I couldn’t help it. I kicked him under the table to stop myself from bursting out laughing. He shot me a look, his expression torn between frustration and desperation. After days of this, it was finally getting to him.
Later that night, once Jane had gone to bed, Joe turned to me, rubbing his temples. His voice was low, almost pleading. “I can’t do this anymore, Tiana. The guest room, the vitamins, the baby talk… I’m going insane.”
I bit my lip, trying to suppress a smile. “You have to admit,” I said, failing to keep the amusement out of my voice, “it’s kind of funny.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s not funny.”
I let out a small laugh. “Okay, okay, it’s a little funny.”
Joe groaned and collapsed onto the bed. “I booked her a room at the hotel down the street. I can’t take another day of this.”
The next morning, he broke the news at breakfast.
“Mom, I’ve booked you a nice hotel nearby until the repairs at your house are done. You’ll be much more comfortable there.”
She blinked, clearly surprised. “But I’m perfectly fine here! And besides, isn’t it time you two got serious about giving me grandkids?”
Joe’s jaw clenched. “Mom, we’ll decide that when we’re ready. For now, the hotel is best for everyone.”
For a moment, Jane just stared at him. Then, realizing she had no leg to stand on, she reluctantly nodded. “Well… if you insist.”
By the end of the day, she was gone. The house was ours again.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Joe collapsed onto the couch with a dramatic sigh of relief. “Finally.”
I grinned, sinking down beside him. “So… kale for dinner?”
He groaned. “Never again.”
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