The notification popped up on my phone, another Instagram post from Grandma Rose. I sighed, tapping on the icon. There she was, her face smoothed and airbrushed beyond recognition, a pair of oversized, cartoonish sunglasses perched on her nose. A cascade of digital sparkles rained down around her. The caption read, “Feeling my vibe! #OOTD #YOLO #GrandmaGoals.”
My stomach churned. At first, it had been a novelty, a quirky, endearing quirk of my 81-year-old grandmother. But now, weeks into her social media blitz, it was bordering on unbearable.
It had started innocently enough. She’d asked me to help her set up an Instagram account, intrigued by the photos I’d shown her of my travels and friends. I’d thought it was a sweet way for her to stay connected with the family, a digital scrapbook of sorts.
But Grandma Rose had taken to Instagram like a fish to water, or rather, like a teenager to a viral trend. She’d discovered the world of filters, the power of hashtags, and the allure of online validation. Suddenly, she was posting multiple times a day, each photo more heavily filtered than the last.
The captions were a whole other level of cringe. She’d pepper them with slang I barely understood, phrases like “slay,” “lit,” and “no cap.” She’d even started using emojis, a barrage of hearts, stars, and laughing faces that seemed to clash with her gentle, grandmotherly image.
The pinnacle of my mortification came when she asked me, with wide, earnest eyes, how to do a “get ready with me” video. “You know, darling,” she’d said, her voice brimming with excitement, “like those lovely young ladies on the internet. I want to show everyone my makeup routine!”
I’d choked on my coffee. My makeup routine consisted of moisturizer and a swipe of mascara. Grandma Rose’s “makeup routine” involved a dusting of powder and a dab of lipstick.
The worst part was, my entire family was egging her on. They’d shower her with likes and comments, calling her “amazing,” “inspiring,” and “a social media queen.” They were completely oblivious to my growing dread.
I was trapped in a vortex of secondhand embarrassment. What if my friends saw these posts? What if my coworkers stumbled upon her profile? I could already imagine the whispers, the snickers, the awkward attempts at polite conversation.
I found myself avoiding family gatherings, dreading the inevitable discussions about Grandma Rose’s latest post. I’d scroll through my feed, wincing at each new notification, my finger hovering over the “unfollow” button, a button I couldn’t bring myself to press.
One evening, I found myself sitting across from my mom, the glow of her phone illuminating her face as she scrolled through Grandma Rose’s profile. “Isn’t she just the cutest?” she gushed, showing me a photo of Grandma Rose with a digital halo and angel wings.
“Mom,” I said, my voice strained, “don’t you think this is… a little much?”
My mom looked at me, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean? She’s having fun. She’s expressing herself.”
“But it’s not her,” I argued. “It’s like she’s trying to be someone else.”
“She’s adapting, darling,” my mom said, her voice gentle. “She’s embracing technology. She’s living her best life.”
I knew I wasn’t going to win this argument. My family, in their well-meaning attempt to support Grandma Rose, were completely blind to the awkwardness of the situation.
I decided to try a different approach. The next time Grandma Rose asked me for help with her Instagram, I sat down with her and gently explained the concept of “authenticity.” I showed her photos of herself, unfiltered and unedited, her smile genuine, her eyes sparkling with wisdom.
“You’re beautiful just the way you are, Grandma,” I said, my voice sincere. “You don’t need filters or slang to be amazing.”
She looked at the photos, her eyes softening. “Do you really think so, darling?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
“Absolutely,” I said, squeezing her hand.
Grandma Rose didn’t stop posting, but she did tone it down. The filters became less intense, the captions more genuine. She even started sharing stories from her life, anecdotes that were both heartwarming and hilarious.
And slowly, I began to appreciate her online presence. I realized that it wasn’t about trying to be an influencer; it was about Grandma Rose finding her own way to connect with the world, to express her joy, to simply be herself. And in the end, that was more than enough.
My In-Laws’ Christmas Gift Felt like a Slap in the Face
When Alicia and Matt’s Christmas holiday trip to Jamaica is canceled due to his father’s open-heart surgery, they decide that spending time with the family is more important. Weeks later, Nancy, Matt’s mother, promises the couple a gift… only to take it back later and replace it with something unexpected.
Every family has its quirks, but my husband’s family is exceptional. They’re the kind who do everything together, who share big plans, and who never think twice about helping out.
I’d always admired that sense of closeness; it wasn’t something that I was used to with my own family. So, I was grateful for how they had welcomed me into their own.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“Your family is the best gift you could have given me, Matt,” I told my husband early on in our relationship.
“Alicia, they’re your family now, too. You can count on them for whatever you need. I promise you, they’ll always be there for you. Especially my mom.”
And you know what? I believed him.
A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney
This year, we planned a holiday of our own—a Christmas trip to Jamaica. It was supposed to be a special reset for us after months of long hours at work, endless bills, and a list of stressors we hadn’t been able to shake. We found a website that offered a great discount, and before we knew it, we were booked and almost ready to go.
All we wanted was to let our hair down, drink cocktails on the beach, and get in as much sunshine as we could.
But in early November, my father-in-law, Derek, suffered a heart attack, and within days, he was scheduled for open-heart surgery.
A man sleeping in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
We didn’t think twice about staying. Derek was Matt’s biggest supporter, and we knew that if the roles were reversed, Derek would be the first one at his bedside.
Losing our vacation was nothing if it meant being there to support Matt’s family. And if I’m honest, being with them at Christmas felt like the right thing to do. We could have our beach vacation another time.
After Derek’s surgery, we all settled into a new holiday plan: Christmas at home, but together.
A man sleeping on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“It’s nothing that different from our usual Christmas plans,” Matt said as he read the messages on the family group chat. “At least we’ll all be together, and Dad will get the support he needs.”
“I agree,” I said. “And I’ll make all his favorites, just heart-condition-friendly versions of them.”
A few weeks after Thanksgiving, my mother-in-law, Nancy, called and mentioned they wanted to do something extra for us. Of course, I didn’t expect anything, but her offer took me by surprise.
A couple sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
She said she and Derek would be giving us a generous gift.
“Nancy, please, you don’t have to do anything,” I said.
“Alicia, just listen, darling,” she said. “Let me speak. I know that you and Matt have been going through so much this year, especially when the plumbing needed to be sorted out. It’s been heavy…”
An older woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“It hasn’t been easy, Nancy,” I said. “You’re right. But we did get most of our trip refunded, so we’re good.”
“Darling, stop,” she said. “Derek and I talked, and we’d like to offer you some financial help. Use it however you need, okay?”
When she told me the amount, I nearly fainted. They were offering us the equivalent of a full month’s salary.
I felt my voice catch.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Are you serious?” I managed, barely believing it.
“Of course, darling,” she replied warmly. “We know you and Matt had a hard year. We want to help you two catch up.”
I hung up the phone, practically in tears. For the first time in ages, I felt relief instead of worry. I imagined what this money could mean for us.
A woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney
We could catch up on bills, pay off credit card debt, maybe even have a little left over for something fun. It was a gift that meant security, peace, and breathing room.
For the first two weeks, I felt lighter than I had in ages. I pictured us on a holiday without the burden of stress hanging over us. I even allowed myself to imagine having enough left over to start saving again.
For the first time, our financial worries seemed less overwhelming.
A smiling woman daydreaming | Source: Midjourney
But then, everything changed with a single text.
Matt and I were sitting down to breakfast when he got a message from his mom. He was salting his eggs when his phone buzzed, rattling the cutlery on the table.
Hi darling, Dad and I have changed our minds a bit on the Christmas gift. We’ve decided that instead of the money, we thought you & Ali would enjoy a weekend at a spa. We’ve prepaid it already. January.
Food on a table | Source: Midjourney
“What?” I whispered, reading the message over Matt’s shoulder, my face hot.
“They didn’t mention anything about this before,” Matt mumbled, scrolling back through the message thread as if he’d missed a message from his mother.
The phone chimed again.
A man using his phone | Source: Midjourney
We decided to cover Maddie and Josh’s accommodation in Italy this summer. They’re planning a big family trip. We thought it would be a nice way to make sure they could join us! xx
As the meaning of the words sank in, I felt like I’d been slapped across the face.
“They… they’re just going to take it back?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “The money, the promise… they’re just dropping it for a spa weekend?
A spa setting | Source: Midjourney
Matt looked at me, clearly at a loss.
“I don’t know what to say. They probably thought it’d be… you know, relaxing for us?” he said.
Relaxing?
I imagined Maddie and Josh taking photos in Italy, sending them to the family group chat for us to see…
A couple in Italy | Source: Midjourney
I felt my hands clench as the weight of this entire thing hit me. I’d been holding onto this promise for weeks now. I had pictured how we’d finally get out of our financial rut, and now we’d been handed a weekend of massages and facials instead.
I struggled to hold my composure.
“Matt,” I began. “You know that I’m not ungrateful…”
A woman getting a facial | Source: Midjourney
I began pacing the kitchen as I tried to gather my thoughts.
“It’s just… that money was a solution. It was something real, something we could count on to make things easier. Now, they’re giving us a spa weekend? And… paying for accommodation in Italy?”
“I get it, Alicia. I get it, babe, trust me,” Matt replied, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s hard. They’re trying to do something nice, you know?”
A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney
“Are they?” I shot back, frustrated. “Or are they just throwing money at something flashy because they don’t actually understand what we need? Your sister’s going to Italy with them, Matt. Italy. With her boyfriend. And she earns way more than I make in a month.”
Matt was silent as he buttered his toast slowly.
“We’re over here barely scraping by, Matt. I don’t know what else to tell you. I’m just disappointed. I wasn’t banking on the money, but I just imagined all the stress being… removed from our lives.”
Buttered toast on a plate | Source: Midjourney
I sank back down into my seat. I wanted to put my head down and cry. I felt like I’d just lost something so important to me. But in reality, it wasn’t even mine to feel the loss over.
The money was Nancy and Derek’s. We had no claim over it at all.
Matt sighed and leaned closer to me, his shoulders touching mine.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know, love,” he said. “Maybe they do see it that way. I don’t think they understand what it’s like to struggle. My sister’s never had to worry, and Mom and Dad don’t live in our reality.”
Part of me wanted to pick up the phone and call my mother-in-law, to tell her exactly how I felt. I imagined the conversation, my words measured and calm.
I would explain that her change of plans felt hurtful, that throwing around large sums only to take them back seemed thoughtless.
A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney
I imagined saying something like, “Look, we don’t need a spa weekend. I don’t need a spa weekend. I need help.”
But how would that go? Would she understand, or would she just think I was ungrateful? Would she tell me I was spoiled for wanting more than they offered?
A woman with her hands on her hips | Source: Midjourney
As I ran through the possible outcomes in my mind, another thought crept in. Christmas with Matt’s family had always felt lavish, almost alien to Matt’s and my current financial reality.
His parents loved to surprise everyone with over-the-top gifts, like high-end gadgets and designer clothes.
Meanwhile, I was trying my best to keep up with it all, to pretend I wasn’t doing mental calculations every time they handed me something expensive.
A pile of Christmas presents | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t want to be that person, but the discomfort lingered, year after year. This time, though, it wasn’t about receiving something over the top.
It was about a broken promise, one that could have changed things for us.
I looked at my now-cold cup of coffee, feeling nauseous.
Matt finally spoke, his tone gentle.
A cup of coffee on a table | Source: Midjourney
“Look, if it’s really bothering you, maybe we should talk to them. I’ll go with you. We can tell them how we’re feeling without sounding so rude.”
I shook my head.
“No, love,” I said. “I understand… and it wouldn’t help. We’ll just come across as being petty or greedy. They won’t understand why this hurts us.”
A woman with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney
Matt didn’t argue, but I could see the sadness in his eyes.
He knew as well as I did that this wasn’t just about the gift. It was about feeling overlooked, like our struggles didn’t matter in the world they lived in.
It was about a reminder that we’d never truly belong to the same world.
I took a deep breath.
A man looking sad | Source: Midjourney
“We’ll accept the spa weekend,” I said, the words coming out flat, resigned. “We’ll go, and we’ll pretend it’s everything we wanted. Because that’s what they expect. It’s easier that way, right?”
Matt’s hand found mine.
“I’m so sorry, my love,” he said. “I wish I could fix this.”
I looked at him, fighting back tears.
A couple holding hands | Source: Midjourney
“I know you do, Matt,” I said. “I just wish… I wish they understood us a little more. That’s all.”
And with that, I realized the real gift I wanted wasn’t money or a spa weekend. It was understanding, a sense of connection that went beyond their gestures.
And somehow, I knew that was the one thing they’d never be able to give us.
A couple sitting together | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another for you |
My Stepmother ‘Gifted’ Me an Old, Smelly Couch — When She Saw What I Did With It, She Demanded $2,500 From Me
When Nicole’s stepmother calls her saying that she has a gift for her, Nicole goes over excitedly. But when she discovers what the gift is, Nicole is torn between keeping her father happy or retaliating. Finally, she accepts it and plans to transform it into something completely different. In the end Nicole is ready to claim the rewards of her hard work.
Ever have one of those moments where you should’ve just trusted your gut? Yep, that was me, standing in my stepmother’s basement, staring at the ugliest, smelliest couch I’d ever seen.
A close up of a young woman | Source: Midjourney
My stepmother, Susan, called me earlier that morning with a grand gesture for my birthday. She insisted that she had a “priceless” gift that was too big for her to move alone.
“You’re going to love it, Nicole!” she said. “It’s absolutely priceless! Come over later today, and we’ll show it to you.”
Now, this is the point when I tell you that Susan and I had never been close. In fact, if I’m being honest, she barely tolerated my existence. So, imagine my absolute surprise when she offered me a gift.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“Curiosity killed the cat, Nic,” I said to myself as I got into the car.
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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