Women's magazine love stories from life. Funny stories from women's lives

Women's stories from real life about the relationship between a man and a woman, as well as other issues that concern the fair half of humanity. Tips and exchange of opinions in the comments under each publication.

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There are 5 people working in one office and one is pregnant, let both her and the child be healthy, though without sarcasm. But the expectant mother is already fed up with everyone. First: don’t wear perfume, okay, toxicosis, we’ll accept it. Second, remove the coffee machine and don’t drink coffee in the office, it will make you sick, eat it in the hallway.

She constantly wants to sleep and, but she doesn’t want to give it away either, since she will receive less. Whenever possible, we help, but now we are busy, so we don’t always have time to do our work, and we stay after work or take work home. To which the pregnant woman is offended and asks to take her part of the work, and when you refuse her, she says: “I’m pregnant, you can’t refuse me.” And the fact that I will sit until one or two in the morning does not interest her. And when I told her that at 23:00 I saw her online on social media. networks and she could take the work home and finish it, then she was offended. She said that she was resting at home. It turns out well - he doesn’t work at work, he rests at home. But you have to eat in the hallway or eat foods that don’t smell to her.

A year later, it turns out that the girl who was taken from the orphanage is mentally ill. She drank a lot of blood, and threw her fists at her adoptive mother if she didn’t give her cigarettes (or later, a bottle). They also learned that adopted daughter sick, they didn’t give up on her, she got her into a special school because... They didn’t take it to the regular one.

It has always been difficult for me to get along with people. Back at school, I always stood on the sidelines while my classmates whispered, giggled and shot their eyes at the boys. I was simply not interested in maintaining these conversations about anything, and my pride did not allow it to be imposed.

The same thing continued when I entered university. There were the same girls here, who looked contemptuously and condescendingly at my not very fashionable sweaters and not very short skirts and passed by. The guys also didn’t notice me point-blank, flirting with all their might with my classmates - bright, fashionable and lively.

At first I tried to convince myself that none of this bothered me. But how I sometimes wanted to turn the situation around, to let everyone know that I’m not that gray mouse It's interesting to talk to me! Several timid attempts to get closer to my classmates ended in nothing - simply no one heard my quiet remarks, I stood nearby, like a poor relative, and quietly walked away, burning with shame.

SEVERE CASE

Lyudochka Samoilova reigned at the university.

For women who neglect caution and common sense in an effort to dramatically change their lives, fate often cruelly takes revenge for their disobedience. At one time, I threw myself into the pool headlong, for which I ended up paying, having experienced a lot of adversity.

For a long time, everything in my life was normal and predictable. After school, she completed typist courses and got a job as a secretary in one of the offices. IN free time met with girlfriends, went to the movies, went dancing. There I met my future husband. Sergei worked at a factory, he was good looking, and his character suited me quite well. When he and I decided to get married, his parents decided to leave for the village and left us an apartment. And then everything went as usual: a daughter was born, we started saving for a car, went out into nature on weekends, and spent our holidays in the countryside. We looked after the garden, went for mushrooms, swam in the river. And everything would be fine, but some kind of anxiety was gnawing at me, and every now and then the thought crept in: is this really how my whole life will go? I was bored, dissatisfied, dreaming of something unrealistic. I understand now that I was simply toiling without love, and then everything seemed gray and hopeless. At work, the girls talked about dating

When one day my husband Igor quoted to me “ Dead souls“Gogol and called Plyushkina, I was terribly offended. He said that I was “bringing all the junk into the house.” And our house, they say, is not made of rubber at all. But this is shameless slander! I only bring the things I need into the house!

And it all started because of a mere trifle: he decided to get his fishing gear from the mezzanine, and when he opened the door, a voluminous package with things that I had recently bought and had not yet managed to determine a place for them fell right on his head. Among the various rags in the same bag was a new stainless steel saucepan.

A week before, on Sunday, when we had guests, our three-year-old Maxim spilled cocoa on my lap—the end of my favorite dress. I had to urgently console myself with something: Galina and I went to shopping mall. I ended up buying a frilly skirt and four tops. different colors, two pairs of trousers and a stunning dress that is very fashionable now lilac color. While spinning home, I sat in front of the closet for half an hour, thinking: where should I put all this? We had to temporarily send him to the mezzanine. Our closet is kind of small, we need to buy a new one.

CREATIVE PERSONALITIES

Who is not familiar with the situation: your beloved man leaves you, you suffer and suffer for a long time. And many years later, having accidentally met ex-lover, you wonder: why was I so upset about this man?

Our romance with Denis can be compared to a roller coaster - ups and downs. We quarreled violently, made up no less violently, parted “forever,” and then met again, unable to bear the separation. But, apparently, at some point he got tired of these passions, and he decided to settle down to a quiet haven. And after our next quarrel, he didn’t call again. And I waited, hoped - well, how? After all, we were created for each other, and the degree of our closeness is such that it cannot be higher. Finally I couldn’t stand it and called him myself.

“I recently got married,” I heard such a familiar voice on the phone.

Yes, Nadya. Our relationship with you has reached a dead end. And I didn’t want my family to become a battleground.

However, he is worried not so much about my fading face as about the imperfection of my figure. “Darling, at your age you need to take more care of your body” - I hear this several times a day. The husband is not only younger, he is also a fitness trainer in one of the most fashionable city clubs. This is my life.

MOTHER-GRANDMOTHER

I wanted to write “but it all started so beautifully,” then I realized that this was not true, it all didn’t start very beautifully. Can you tell us a few words about yourself?

Real stories from the lives of women blog readers about domestic tyranny. Your stories are accepted for this section! How did you meet your tyrant husband, how did the relationship develop, what feelings and thoughts bothered you, and of course, how did you manage to get rid of the tyrant and recover from painful dependence on him? Read, discuss, consult, exchange experiences!

Some women, disappointed in domestic suitors and experiencing financial difficulties, see salvation in marrying a foreigner, believing that the men there are different and there are more opportunities. But, instead of a heavenly life, they often fall into the arms of a domestic tyrant. Marina shared...

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A woman asks you to help her decide on a divorce. She describes terrible life with a tyrant husband who mocks her, but something prevents her from filing for divorce... This happens often. No matter how terrible our situation is, we are prevented from deciding to change it...

Svetlana asked a question that many women ask when they are not satisfied with a relationship and it seems (or does not seem) that something is wrong with a man: is he a tyrant or not? Often a woman really needs to get an answer to this question in order to stop having illusions about...

The heroine of this story put the question in the title: how was I able to deceive myself? She managed to find and analyze her mistakes and successfully get out of a destructive relationship with a domestic tyrant. I highly recommend reading her experience to anyone who is in the same situation, trying to get rid of...

I have long wanted to write about my friend. But somehow the puzzles in my head just don’t fit.

Probably not a single post.

There are people who are mysteries. I happened to meet one of these about 25 years ago. The victim in the criminal case was a music teacher. Thin, agile. Like mercury, she immediately became comfortable in my office, warned me that she had trouble hearing, and showed me a hearing aid.

From that day our many years of communication began. Interesting people you don't see it every day. And she was one of those.

Here's her story. I can’t ask permission, because the woman is no longer there.

At the age of 5, Tamara (that’s her real name) became almost deaf. This happened after the flu. The most offensive thing for her was that the children refused to play with her and began to tease her.
Then my father bought a piano and hired a visiting music teacher. Then I somehow managed to get accepted into a music school.

Her family life was unsuccessful. Soon after the birth of her daughter, she and her husband had to separate. She said about this period that she slept constantly. I understood that this was not normal, but I couldn’t help myself.

One day, while cleaning the apartment, I found packs of sleeping pills and several already empty packs. Here the secret of her hibernation was revealed.

Then there was a long conversation with my husband, a difficult separation for both. And misunderstanding on the part of the mother. The cool relationship between them remained throughout their lives. I remember this proud beautiful woman- Bank employee. She managed to outlive her youngest daughter.

The reason why Tamara sought protection was common for single women.
A gentleman was found, he surrounded her with attention and care, and began to enter her apartment. But the good things didn't last long.

He turned out to be a jealous and cruel person. Demanded a report on any matter. The showdown ended in torture - he put out cigarettes on her, poked her with a sharp object, and did not let her go to work. This took a long time.

Tamara wrote to the district police officer, tried to free her apartment from the tenant, underwent forensic examinations, and hid them through friends.

By the time the criminal case was initiated, there was a lot of evidence. Therefore, it was possible to assign the gentleman to a colony for three years.

He turned out to be affectionate. Letters were sent from the colony, first about love and asking for forgiveness, then with threats and promises to bring the matter to an end.

These three years flew by quickly.

One spring day we were sitting near the piano in her room (I was taking lessons from her at the time) when they started knocking on the door. I immediately realized from Tamara’s face who was standing behind the door.

This was our carer. He quickly got wound up because they wouldn’t open it, screamed, and kicked the door. We were afraid that the door would not hold and jumped out through the open window.

It is clear that she and the child needed to wait somewhere temporarily so that the carer would calm down and stop pursuing her.

I offered my apartment. My husband had died by then. The children didn't mind. And Tamara settled with her daughter in one of our rooms.

These couple of months have not been easy for me. By nature I am a home person, I like things to be calm and measured. And then you feel like the wind has burst into your life.

Tamara cared about everything. She was constantly running somewhere, helping someone, repairing something, knitting, composing. Somehow she casually took an interest in her daughter’s affairs and ran away again.

And one day she announced that she was ready to return home, that she had met a young guy. He returned from the Army, knows about her problems and offered his protection. As a friend. Nothing more.

This friend turned out to be a little older than my son. Silent, sedate, laconic, he kept to himself. Almost like in the "ice and fire" poems.

Several times I saw these absolutely not similar friends on other people. Thin, dark-haired Tamara, ready to take off at any moment, conducted the conversation. She needed time to understand what they were talking about. Helping, teaching - that was her mission.

Andrei carefully peered into her face, spoke loudly and articulately, not paying attention to those around her. He clearly felt in the role of the elder, although the difference in their ages was at least 10 years. Maybe more.

To be continued.