My MIL Was Stealing My Clothes for Months and Advertising It Online — On Thanksgiving, I Publicly Taught Her a Lesson

When her favorite clothes start vanishing, Stephanie dismisses it as forgetfulness — until she discovers her mother-in-law secretly selling them online, calling them “trashy.” Living together during renovations just got interesting, and the family will never forget this Thanksgiving dinner.

I thought I had a good relationship with Lucia, my mother-in-law, until she moved in with us while her home was being renovated.

A woman standing beside several suitcases | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing beside several suitcases | Source: Midjourney

It started with small things, minor disagreements about why I put rosemary in my pot roast, and the “proper” way to clean the hardwood floors.

I tried to be a good host, but Lucia did not make it easy. One day, I returned from my part-time job to discover she’d rearranged everything stored in the kitchen cupboards. She also insisted on hanging the laundry outside to dry, even though I asked her not to.

“The fresh air just makes it smell better,” she said.

Laundry hanging on a clothesline | Source: Pexels

Laundry hanging on a clothesline | Source: Pexels

“That’s what the scented fabric softener is for,” I replied, but she just wouldn’t listen.

“You’re both very headstrong and like to do things your way, it’s natural you’ll clash from time to time,” Michael said when I ranted to him over a date night dinner. “And besides, Mom will be going back to her place in another few weeks. It’s not that long.”

“It may as well be forever,” I sighed.

Then my clothes started disappearing.

A confused woman standing in front of a closet | Source: Midjourney

A confused woman standing in front of a closet | Source: Midjourney

It started with a semi-sheer dress. I wanted to wear it to a work function but when I opened my closet, it was gone.

“Lucia, have you seen my dress?” I called as I headed to the basement to search the laundry. “The mauve one, with the ruffles?”

“The one that looks like a curtain?” Lucia popped her head out of the living room as I passed by. “No, Steph, I don’t think I have.”

A woman shrugging | Source: Midjourney

A woman shrugging | Source: Midjourney

I never did find that dress and the missing clothes situation got worse. My skinny jeans vanished next, followed by my fuschia pink sundress and — this one really got me — my favorite silk blouse that Michael had bought me for our anniversary.

I was going half-crazy thinking I’d misplaced them. I unpacked my entire closet and reorganized it three times. Every time, I noticed something else that was missing like a favorite bra, my lace pantyhose, and a grey pencil skirt.

But the real kicker? I discovered the truth about what was happening to my clothes purely by accident.

Close up of a frowning woman's face | Source: Midjourney

Close up of a frowning woman’s face | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t sleep one night and ended up scrolling through Reddit. There, I stumbled upon a post showing MY CLOTHES, with a caption that made my blood boil: “Cleaning out my DIL’s trashy wardrobe. Anyone want to buy some clothes that no respectable married woman should wear?”

I nearly choked on my chamomile tea. The username might as well have been “LuciaTheThief” because who else could it be?

The woman who’d been living in my house for three months, eating my food, and criticizing my cooking, was now apparently stealing my clothes.

A woman staring at her phone screen in shock | Source: Midjourney

A woman staring at her phone screen in shock | Source: Midjourney

“Oh my God,” I whispered to myself, scrolling through the comments.

Some people wanted to buy the clothes while others had posted nasty criticisms of my fashion sense. She’d replied to some with remarks like, “My poor son doesn’t know how to tell her these clothes are inappropriate” and “She dresses like she’s still in college.”

I clenched my fists so hard that one of my acrylic nails popped off. I was tempted to storm into the guest bedroom right then and demand my clothes back, but then I came up with a better plan.

A woman scowling at her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman scowling at her phone | Source: Midjourney

Thanksgiving was right around the corner and this year, Michael and I were celebrating with members from both our families. Twelve people in total, including Michael’s older brother and one of his aunts.

“Revenge is a dish best served with turkey and cranberry sauce,” I muttered as I took screenshots of Lucia’s Reddit post.

I set my phone aside and fell asleep with a smile on my face.

A cell phone on a nightstand | Source: Pexels

A cell phone on a nightstand | Source: Pexels

On Thanksgiving, I graciously told Lucia to go ahead and prepare the meal according to her family recipes. It kept her busy while I hurriedly completed the final steps of my plan to teach her a lesson.

Afterward, I set the table according to Lucia’s specifications. It looked perfect by the time everyone arrived. Michael squeezed my hand under the table as everyone sat down, probably thinking I was finally making an effort with his mother.

If he only knew.

A woman standing at a dining table | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing at a dining table | Source: Midjourney

When everyone had filled their plates, I stood up, wine glass in hand. “I’d like to make a toast,” I announced.

“To family,” I began, “and especially to Lucia, who’s been such a… presence in our home these past few months.” A few chuckles around the table. “She’s taught me so much about generosity and giving to others.”

Lucia beamed, probably thinking I’d finally learned something from her endless lessons about charity and community service. That’s when I reached under the table and pulled out the garbage bag I’d stashed there earlier.

A woman lifting a trash bag | Source: Midjourney

A woman lifting a trash bag | Source: Midjourney

“In fact, she’s generously donated all of these clothes to the women’s shelter downtown,” I continued, “accidentally” letting the bag split open.

Out tumbled Lucia’s favorite cashmere sweater, her designer jeans, and — oops — was that her La Perla lingerie skittering across the hardwood floor?

Lucia took one look at the clothes, all items I’d carefully chosen because I knew she loved them, and spat her wine out like a fountain.

A shocked woman seated at a dining table | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman seated at a dining table | Source: Midjourney

The table went silent. Michael’s sister Jane stopped mid-chew. Then, surprisingly, Michael’s cousin Sarah started clapping.

“That’s so wonderful of you, Aunt Lucia!” Sarah exclaimed. “You’re always talking about giving back to the community. How generous of you to donate your designer clothes!”

Others joined in the applause, praising Lucia’s apparent selflessness. I watched as her face cycled through confusion, horror, and fury, knowing she couldn’t say a word without exposing her misdeeds.

A smug woman | Source: Midjourney

A smug woman | Source: Midjourney

It was the perfect trap.

The rest of dinner was deliciously awkward, with Lucia pushing food around her plate and avoiding everyone’s eyes.

I’d never seen her so quiet during a family gathering. Usually, she’d be holding court, sharing stories about Michael’s childhood, or dropping not-so-subtle hints about grandchildren.

After dinner, Lucia cornered me in the kitchen.

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

Her face was flushed, either from anger or the three glasses of wine she’d needed to get through dessert.

“How dare you humiliate me like that?” she hissed, hands shaking as she gripped the counter. “You went too far, Stephanie. Way too far.”

I continued loading the dishwasher, taking my time with each plate. “How dare I? That’s rich coming from someone who stole my clothes and tried to sell them online while calling me trashy.”

A woman loading a dishwasher | Source: Midjourney

A woman loading a dishwasher | Source: Midjourney

“What? I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I paused, took out my phone, and showed her the screenshot I’d taken of her Reddit post. The blood drained from her face and her jaw went slack.

“I… well, those clothes were inappropriate—”

“Those clothes were mine,” I cut her off. I scrolled to the next screenshot. “Every single comment you made, every attempt to sell my things — it’s all here.”

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

“And let me make something crystal clear: my house, my clothes, my life,” I continued. “You don’t get to make those decisions for me anymore. Actions have consequences, Lucia. Remember that next time you think about overstepping.”

The next morning, I found all my missing clothes neatly folded outside my bedroom door. Every single item was there, from the semi-sheer dress to the silk blouse.

No note needed — the message was clear.

A stack of folded clothes on a hallway table | Source: Pexels

A stack of folded clothes on a hallway table | Source: Pexels

I gathered them up and took them to my closet, then spent an hour sorting through my older clothes.

When Lucia came down for breakfast, I was already at the door with my donation bag.

“Going to the shelter?” she asked quietly.

“Yes. With my own clothes… the ones I actually want to donate.”

A woman carrying a trash bag | Source: Midjourney

A woman carrying a trash bag | Source: Midjourney

She nodded, then surprised me by saying, “I’m sorry, Stephanie. I was wrong.”

I paused at the door, bag in hand. “I know you were.”

“It’s just…” she sighed, wringing her hands. “Those clothes, some of them seemed so revealing, and I worried about what people would think. About you, about Michael, about our family. But I handled it all wrong. It won’t happen again.”

“No,” I agreed, “it won’t.”

A woman holding a trash bag | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a trash bag | Source: Midjourney

As I drove to the shelter, I couldn’t help but smile. Sometimes it takes a little public humiliation to teach someone about boundaries. And if Lucia ever tried something like this again? Well, I still had those Reddit screenshots saved on my phone.

Just in case.

But for now, we had reached a tentative peace. The following weeks brought fewer criticisms, more respect for personal space, and — miracle of miracles — not a single comment about my wardrobe choices.

A woman relaxing on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

A woman relaxing on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

Sometimes, it takes a dramatic gesture to reset a relationship.

Here’s another story: After weeks of planning the perfect Christmas Eve, my husband left the kids and me at home to attend his staff-only office party instead. But when another wife’s call revealed the truth about couples being invited, I decided it was time for a surprise visit.

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.

I Couldn’t Get Why My Husband Spends So Much Time in the Bathroom Until I Saw a Video in His Phone

When I knocked on the bathroom door and heard my husband’s strained voice, I knew something wasn’t right. But nothing could have prepared me for the real reason he’d been hiding behind that locked door for months.

I’ve always considered myself lucky. Liam and I have been married for 25 years, and for the most part, life has been… comfortable. We had our ups and downs, like any couple, but we were solid.

A loving couple having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

A loving couple having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

At least, that’s what I used to think. Lately, things have felt different. Not the obvious kind of different: no big fights or dramatic shifts, but small changes, the kind that make you second-guess your own instincts.

The strangest of all? Liam’s sudden obsession with the bathroom.

Liam’s never been the type to spend much time in there. If anything, I’ve always teased him for how quickly he could be in and out, joking that he was some kind of efficiency expert. But about six months ago, he started taking his time. Really taking his time.

A man looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror | Source: Midjourney

It wasn’t just a few extra minutes; he’d disappear for hours. At first, I shrugged it off. “Maybe he’s just getting older,” I told myself. Everyone deserves a bit of alone time. I didn’t want to be one of those wives, nagging over every little thing.

But then the noises started.

One night, as I was folding laundry on the bed, I heard a dull thud. I paused, listening carefully. There it was again: this time, a low grunt, followed by what sounded like heavy breathing.

A stunned woman standing in her room | Source: Midjourney

A stunned woman standing in her room | Source: Midjourney

I stood up, hesitating in the hallway before knocking softly. “Liam?” I called through the door, trying to keep my tone casual. “Everything alright in there?”

There was a pause. “Yeah, just… taking my time,” he replied, his voice slightly strained.

I frowned but didn’t push further. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well? But days turned into weeks, and his bathroom sessions grew longer. He’d spend more time behind that locked door, and with each passing day, I found myself growing more and more uneasy.

A woman looks curious and concerned while sitting in her room | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks curious and concerned while sitting in her room | Source: Midjourney

It wasn’t just the time that bothered me; it was the secrecy. He had started locking the door every time, something he never used to do. When I casually asked him about it one morning over coffee, he shrugged it off with a nonchalant, “Can’t a guy have some privacy?”

I tried not to let it get to me, but curiosity gnawed at me, especially with the strange sounds. “Privacy for what exactly?” I muttered under my breath one night. That’s when I started to worry something more was going on.

A man standing in the bathroom | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in the bathroom | Source: Midjourney

One evening, after yet another long, locked bathroom session, I couldn’t help myself anymore. “Liam, why are you always in there for so long?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

He looked at me, irritated. “Why do you always have to ask about it? I just… I can’t do it faster, okay?”

“Do what faster?” I asked, baffled.

“Just leave it alone, Naomi,” he snapped, storming back into the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

A man sitting in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

I tried to let it go, but every night, as I lay in bed listening to those strange noises coming from the bathroom, I felt my imagination running wild. Was he hiding something? Was he in trouble?

The thought of him keeping secrets from me, after all these years, made my stomach churn. I considered every possibility, even the worst ones: was he seeing someone else?

Then, everything changed one afternoon. Liam had locked himself in the bathroom again, and I was in the kitchen when his phone buzzed on the counter.

A smartphone lying on a counter | Source: Midjourney

A smartphone lying on a counter | Source: Midjourney

I glanced at it absentmindedly, expecting some work message or a news alert. But no: it was his mom, Meredith, calling.

“Liam, your mom’s calling!” I called out, tapping on the countertop impatiently.

There was a grunt from the bathroom. “Can you get it? I’m busy!” His voice was muffled, strained.

I hesitated for a moment, then picked up the phone. “Hello, Meredith,” I said, trying to keep the conversation short. After a quick exchange about her upcoming doctor’s appointment, we hung up.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

But just as I went to lock the phone, something caught my eye — an open video on the screen. The thumbnail showed it was recorded just an hour ago.

My heart raced. Before I could stop myself, I clicked play. And as the video started, I felt my breath catch in my throat.

There was Liam in the bathroom, wearing workout clothes, of all things… exercising? He was in the middle of doing push-ups, sweat dripping down his face, groaning with each rep.

A man exercising in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

A man exercising in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

Then he switched to sit-ups, breathing heavily, pushing himself like I’d never seen him do before.

My first reaction was relief. So that’s what had been going on in there? My imagination had gone to the darkest places, and here he was… doing some awkward yoga poses. I actually chuckled, a combination of amusement and disbelief bubbling up.

I marched down the hall, heart still racing, and knocked on the bathroom door, harder this time. “Liam! Open the door. We need to talk.”

A woman looking at the closed bathroom door in her room | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at the closed bathroom door in her room | Source: Midjourney

There was silence on the other side, and I could almost feel his hesitation through the thick wood. “I’m, uh, kinda busy right now,” he finally muttered, his voice breathless.

I wasn’t having it. “Liam. Open. The. Door.”

I heard him shuffle around, and after a beat, the lock clicked. The door creaked open slowly, revealing my husband, flushed, sweaty, and holding a bright green resistance band in one hand. He stared at me, his eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

A closeup of a green-colored resistance band lying on the floor | Source: Midjourney

A closeup of a green-colored resistance band lying on the floor | Source: Midjourney

“You saw the video, didn’t you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. His shoulders slumped as he looked down at the floor.

I crossed my arms, trying to keep my voice calm. “Yeah, I saw it. What on earth is going on?”

Liam sighed deeply, running a hand through his damp hair. “I… I’ve put on weight,” he admitted, his voice heavy with embarrassment. “Nine kilos in the last few months, and I—I felt so ashamed. I thought you might… you know, notice.”

A man looks embarrassed while sitting in his room | Source: Midjourney

A man looks embarrassed while sitting in his room | Source: Midjourney

“Notice what? That you gained a bit of weight? Liam, everyone puts on weight now and then. What does that have to do with locking yourself in the bathroom for hours?” I asked, genuinely confused but feeling a bit of my frustration melt away.

He groaned, rubbing his forehead like a child caught sneaking cookies before dinner. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he mumbled. “So I started working out… in secret. I hired this online coach and started doing these bathroom workouts so you wouldn’t… notice how out of shape I’d gotten.”

A man using his phone in the bathroom | Source: Midjourney

A man using his phone in the bathroom | Source: Midjourney

I blinked, processing his words. “Wait. All this time, you were in here… working out? Not hiding something from me? Not cheating or… God knows what else I thought?” I could feel a mixture of exasperation and relief washing over me.

He nodded, still not meeting my eyes. “I didn’t want you to hear me struggling. It’s embarrassing, okay? I’d be grunting and breathing heavily, and I figured if you knew, you’d worry… or worse, think less of me.”

A man breathing heavily and sweating during a bathroom workout session | Source: Midjourney

A man breathing heavily and sweating during a bathroom workout session | Source: Midjourney

I stared at him, then burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. The sheer absurdity of it all: the hours spent worrying, the secretive looks, the locked doors; all because he was too shy to admit he was working out.

“Liam, you absolute idiot!” I laughed, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. “You could’ve just told me. You know I’d support you no matter what!”

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

Liam looked up at me, a sheepish smile starting to break through his embarrassment. “I didn’t want to worry you. I know how much you’ve been dealing with lately: work, my mom’s health, everything. I didn’t want to add to that.”

I shook my head, the last bit of tension fading as I took a step toward him. “Worry me? Liam, you DID worry me. You were acting so strange. My imagination was running wild! I thought you were keeping something serious from me…”

An extremely worried woman | Source: Midjourney

An extremely worried woman | Source: Midjourney

He winced, clearly feeling guilty. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I just — I’ve been feeling bad about myself. And I didn’t want to burden you with that.”

I softened, reaching out to touch his arm. “Liam, we’ve been married 25 years. You don’t have to hide anything from me, especially not this.” I paused, trying to read his face.

“You’re still the same man I married, whether you’ve put on a few kilos or not. Besides, it’s not like I’ve stayed the same size either,” I added with a smirk, patting my belly for emphasis.

A woman smirks while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman smirks while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

Liam finally cracked a real smile. “I guess I’ve been a bit ridiculous, huh?”

“Just a little,” I teased, raising an eyebrow. “Next time, instead of locking yourself away, how about we go on a run together? Or, I don’t know, maybe let me in on your secret workout routine?”

He chuckled, the tension fully broken now. “You and me? Doing yoga together?” he joked, his eyes twinkling for the first time in weeks.

A man chuckles while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A man chuckles while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

“Why not? I could use a little stretching,” I said with a grin, then sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster of the last few weeks. “But seriously, Liam, no more secrets. Please. You can tell me anything, even if it’s about something like this.”

Liam nodded, looking down at his feet before glancing back up at me. “I will. I promise.”

We stood there for a moment, the air between us lighter now, as if a weight had been lifted. I hadn’t realized how much this situation had weighed on me until it was gone.

A loving couple | Source: Midjourney

A loving couple | Source: Midjourney

Finally, I smiled, shaking my head at him again. “All this time, and it was just you doing push-ups in here?”

Liam laughed, tossing the resistance band aside. “Yeah, and pretty badly, too.”

We both laughed, the sound filling the small bathroom. It was ridiculous, yes, but also a reminder. Sometimes, the things we’re most afraid to admit — the things we think will push people away — are the very things that make us closer.

I squeezed his hand and said softly, “Next time, just let me in, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered, pulling me into a hug.

A couple hugging | Source: Midjourney

A couple hugging | Source: Midjourney

And in that moment, it was like everything fell back into place.

Ready to dive into another heartwarming story? You’re going to love this one: When Michael returned home early from a business trip, he expected a warm family reunion, not an empty house and eerie silence. His wife was missing, only to be found locked in the cellar, with a shocking story that pointed to a betrayal he never saw coming.

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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