In an age where unrealistic beauty standards and airbrushed images saturate media platforms, one mother’s bold decision has ignited a fierce debate. Instead of following what everyone else thinks, she did something empowering and accepting. She painted stretch marks on her daughter’s doll.
Kate writes books for kids.
Kate Claxton, is a talented author dedicated to inspiring children. Among her notable works is the multi-award-winning picture book, “My Mum’s a Tiger!” Crafted with love and a profound understanding of the challenges faced by many, Claxton created this heartfelt story as a cherished gift for her baby’s first birthday.
Little did she know that her creation would transcend personal boundaries and resonate with countless individuals around the globe. “My Mum’s a Tiger!” serves as a powerful reflection of the experiences of numerous real-life people who grew up being told that their scars, stripes, spots, and so-called ’flaws’ should be concealed.
She has body-inclusive dolls for her kids at home.
Claxton not only writes empowering books but also practices what she preaches in her own home. Recognizing the importance of body inclusivity and normalizing the beauty of individuality, Claxton provides her children with body-inclusive dolls. As much as she adores her acclaimed work, “My Mum’s a Tiger,” which beautifully embraces tiger stripes and other unique features, Claxton understands her daughter’s fascination with dolls and their ability to be dressed and undressed.
Consequently, she took it upon herself to modify one of these dolls, adding the very stripes that so many people cover up. Claxton believes in embracing differences and encourages others to do the same, offering a poignant line from her book: “Let’s take what makes us different and instead of trying to hide, let’s be more like animals and wear our marks with pride.”
Some people criticized her for painting the dolls.
Inevitably, not everyone embraced Kate Claxton’s initiative of painting the dolls. But Claxton takes pride in the fact that her Barbie craft session sparked conversations and stirred up reactions. However, she acknowledges that reading the comments can sometimes be disheartening, particularly when encountering individuals who completely miss the point.
Among the critical comments, one person questioned the motive behind painting the dolls, asking, “Why make young girls worry more about their bodies? I’ve got no stretch marks, so maybe it would be better to teach them about being positive rather than negative about their bodies.” Another comment echoed a similar sentiment, stating, “Why make girls worry more all the time? I had three kids and no stretch marks. Make them think positive.”
She doesn’t listen to the mean comments.
Despite encountering some less-than-supportive remarks, Claxton chooses to scroll past those comments, refusing to let them overshadow the positive impact and meaningful discussions her efforts have generated. While acknowledging these differing viewpoints, Claxton remains committed to her mission of promoting positivity and fostering a healthy body image in children.
Another mom that received a lot of attention for her unique parenting style was actress Kristen Bell. Known for her refreshing approach to raising her children, Bell brings a combination of compassion, empathy, and open-mindedness to the table. In a candid moment on her podcast, Kristen Bell openly shared a personal anecdote about her daughter’s developmental journey, revealing that her daughter wore diapers until the age of 5.
Preview photo credit reallyratherwild / Instagram
I Opened a Mysterious Door in My Cellar—Now I Regret Everything
I never believed in hidden doors or secret rooms; those were things from mystery stories. But when Florence and I decided to renovate our cellar, we found more than just a door behind the old wallpaper. It was something we were never meant to discover, and now, I wish I had never opened it.
You never truly understand a house until you’ve lived in it for some time. That’s what I always believed. Florence and I bought this old Victorian house five years ago. We called it our dream home. It had history, charm, and unique details, the kind of house with a past you could feel in every room.
When we started the renovation project, we thought we knew what we were getting into. The cellar was dark, damp, and unused. Peeling wallpaper and cracked tiles told us it hadn’t been touched in years. But we were excited about turning it into a useful space, maybe a wine cellar or storage room. That’s when we noticed something odd—a section of the wall that didn’t match the rest.
I never believed in hidden doors or secret rooms; those were things from mystery stories. But when Florence and I decided to renovate our cellar, we found more than just a door behind the old wallpaper. It was something we were never meant to discover, and now, I wish I had never opened it.
You never truly understand a house until you’ve lived in it for some time. That’s what I always believed. Florence and I bought this old Victorian house five years ago. We called it our dream home. It had history, charm, and unique details, the kind of house with a past you could feel in every room.
When we started the renovation project, we thought we knew what we were getting into. The cellar was dark, damp, and unused. Peeling wallpaper and cracked tiles told us it hadn’t been touched in years. But we were excited about turning it into a useful space, maybe a wine cellar or storage room. That’s when we noticed something odd—a section of the wall that didn’t match the rest.
In the back corner, we found something even stranger: an old wooden chest, covered in dust and cobwebs. It was locked, but the lock seemed weak, like it could easily break. Florence begged me to leave it alone, but I was too curious. I forced it open, and what I saw made my heart race.
Inside were old documents, letters written in a language I didn’t understand, and something wrapped in a faded cloth. When I unwrapped it, I froze. It was a small, strange object that didn’t belong in this world. Florence screamed and ran out of the cellar, terrified.
I should have followed her, but I was too deep into it. I put everything back in the chest and closed the door, but the feeling that something had changed wouldn’t leave me. Since that day, things have been different. Strange noises, cold drafts, and shadows moving where they shouldn’t.
Now, I regret opening that door. Florence refuses to go back into the cellar, and I can’t sleep at night. I don’t know what we uncovered, but I fear we’ve let something into our home that we can’t control. Every day, I wish I had just left the door hidden behind the wallpaper, where it belonged.
Now, the cellar remains locked. I’ve sealed the door with heavy boards, hoping that will keep whatever we disturbed at bay. Florence refuses to go near it, and our once happy home feels suffocating with the tension between us. It’s like the house itself has changed, like it’s watching us.
At night, I hear whispers coming from the floor below. I try to convince myself it’s just the wind or my imagination, but deep down, I know something’s wrong. The object I found in the chest haunts my thoughts—I’ve hidden it away, but it’s like it calls to me. Florence says I need to get rid of it, but I’m too afraid to touch it again.
I tried contacting the previous owners, but they didn’t know anything about the hidden room. They had lived here briefly before selling the house. No one in the neighborhood seems to know its history, and records of the house are vague. It’s like this part of the house was meant to stay forgotten.
I keep telling myself everything will be fine if I just leave it alone, but the strange occurrences are getting worse. Lights flicker, doors creak open on their own, and sometimes, I catch glimpses of something moving in the dark corners. It feels like the house is alive—angry that we disturbed its secret.
Florence is talking about moving, and maybe she’s right. But part of me knows that whatever we let out, whatever we disturbed, might not stay behind. And now, I wonder if sealing that door was just the beginning of something far more terrifying.
I never should have opened that door.
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