One of the names that springs to mind when we think of strong, accomplished women is Martha Stewart.
She is not only a well-known TV personality but also a writer, businesswoman, self-made billionaire, and former fashion model.
This amazing woman is 82 years old, but she still lives life to the fullest.
She garnered a lot of attention when she bravely posed in skimpy bikinis for the Sports Illustrated cover last year. She received recognition for her courage, amazing physique, and positive energy.
But when she recently shared some pictures from her vacation to Greenland’s east coast, one of them infuriated her supporters.
“End of the first zodiac cruise from @swanhelleniccruises into a very beautiful fjord on the east coast of Greenland,” the caption reads, beside a picture of Stewart sipping a cocktail. In fact, we managed to catch a tiny iceberg for our cocktails this evening.
Her use of the term “small iceberg” to describe her drink surely wasn’t intended to enrage her admirers, but it did make them angry.
People quickly began criticizing her article in the comments section, pointing out that she had mentioned a little iceberg at a time when the “ice caps are melting.”
One Instagram user said, “Martha, the ice caps are melting. Don’t put them in your drink.”
Another said, “I generally love Martha and the excesses of her life because he’s about beautiful gardens, homes, and food, but it’s a bit tone deaf for wealthy white people to be drinking their iceberg cocktails while the planet is burning.”
Thus, millionaires take vacations to the melting icebergs, scoop them up, and use them to keep their cocktails icy as the climate warms as a result of the riches of a few thousand people. That sentence has the feel of one from a dystopian book. Can’t make this stuff up, haha,” a third said.
“Even with global warming and ice caps disappearing, we still need glacier ice for cocktails? Discuss tone def. Been a lover for years, but lately, when I’m having trouble buying groceries, I’ve seen enough caviar that I’m out,” a fourth person commented.
Generally speaking, a lot of people adore Martha.
She claimed on the Today show, “I didn’t starve myself, but I didn’t eat any bread or pasta for a couple of months,” in reference to the Sports Illustrated cover she posed for.
“It was amazing that I went to Pilates every other day, and I’m still going because it’s that good. In any case, I lead a clean life that includes a nutritious diet, regular exercise, decent skincare, and other habits.
During her keynote address at the Las Vegas event, she also discussed the reaction of the audience to the “authentic” cover.
According to Stewart, “the response was really encouraging because it gave women of all ages the confidence to believe that they could succeed too.”
Please use Facebook to SHARE this post with your loved ones.
My Father Went Fishing with His Friends and Forgot My 18th Birthday
Ryder’s 18th birthday should have been a milestone celebration, but the absence of his father left him feeling deeply disappointed. Learning that his dad chose a fishing trip with friends over spending time with him only added to his heartbreak. However, what happened next led Ryder to see things in a new light. Let me introduce myself—I’m Ryder, and I recently turned 18. Before I dive into the story of my birthday, let me share a bit about my life. Things were pretty normal until I turned seven. That’s when the arguments between my mom and dad began. I didn’t fully understand what was happening at the time, but I could sense the tension. By the time I was eight, my dad was gone. I remember clearly the day my mom sat me down and explained, “Ryder, sweetie, your father won’t be living with us anymore. But you can still see him whenever you want, okay?”My heart skipped a beat.
“But why, Mom? Did I do something wrong?” Mom’s eyes welled up with tears, but she smiled gently. “Oh, no, honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. This isn’t your fault at all.” “Then why is Dad leaving?” I asked, desperate for answers. She took a deep breath. “Well, sometimes grown-ups just can’t live together anymore. Your dad and I tried really hard to make things work, but sometimes things just don’t turn out the way we hope.” “Can’t you try harder?” I pleaded, not ready to accept the reality. She pulled me into a hug. “We did try, Ryder. For a long time. But sometimes, the kindest thing we can do is to live apart. Your dad and I will both always love you, and that won’t ever change. We just won’t be living in the same house anymore.” And just like that, my parents were divorced. After the divorce, Mom took a job as an elementary school teacher, working tirelessly to give me a good life. I’ll always be grateful for that. But my dad? He became like a ghost in my life—always busy with work, friends, and his hobbies, especially fishing. Every weekend, he’d vanish with his buddies to go fishing, even when Mom reminded him that I’d be visiting. Despite everything, a part of me still longed for his attention. I wanted him to notice me, to be proud of me. So, I spent years trying to win his approval, hoping that one day he’d realize how much I needed him. But I was wrong. As my 18th birthday approached, I thought maybe, just maybe, he’d show up this time. Turning 18 is a big deal, after all. I planned a small party with Mom and a few close friends. I even texted Dad about it, and his reply gave me hope: “Sounds great! I’ll try to be there.” The day arrived, and Mom went all out—decorating the house, baking my favorite cake, and even surprising me with a new guitar I’d been eyeing for months. Friends started arriving, and the house was soon filled with laughter and excitement. But as the hours passed, there was still no sign of Dad. I kept checking my phone, hoping for a message, but there was nothing. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and decided to call him. When he finally picked up, I could hear the sound of waves and chatter in the background. “Dad, it’s my birthday,” I reminded him, trying to hide the desperation in my voice. “Oh, right. Happy birthday!” he replied casually. “I’m out on the lake with the guys. I’ll catch you later, okay?” I hung up, feeling tears blur my vision. I rushed to my room and hid there until Mom found me. She sat beside me, putting her arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry, honey. You know how he is.” “I know,” I whispered, trying to stay strong, but inside, I was shattered. The days after my birthday were a blur. I pretended everything was fine, but inside, I felt invisible. Dad’s absence reminded me that I wasn’t important enough for him. Then, a week later, Dad called. He acted as if nothing had happened. “Hey, I got you a gift,” he said. “Want to come over and get it?” Part of me wanted to tell him to forget it, but another part still held onto that sliver of hope. So, I agreed. When I arrived at his house, he greeted me with a smile and handed me a long, mysterious package. As I unwrapped it, my heart sank—it was a fishing rod. “What do you think?” he asked proudly. “We can go fishing together sometime!” The fishing rod wasn’t just a poorly chosen gift; it was a symbol of his absence, a reminder of the very activity that had taken him away from me. “Thanks, Dad,” I forced a smile. “It’s… great.” He didn’t seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm. “I figured it was time you learned the ropes. You’ll have fun!” He then suggested we go fishing the next weekend, but I knew I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine. “I… I can’t come next weekend, Dad,” I said. “I’ve got plans with Mom.” He frowned for a moment, but then his smile returned. “No worries, we’ll find another time.” But I knew we wouldn’t, and for the first time, I was okay with that. As I left his house holding the rod, I realized it was time to let go of the fantasy and accept the reality. I couldn’t keep chasing after someone who couldn’t be there for me. Over the next few months, I focused on the people who genuinely cared about me—my mom, my friends, and most importantly, myself. I threw myself into my music, practicing guitar for hours, and began helping Mom more around the house, grateful for everything she had done for me. One evening, as we were doing dishes together, Mom asked, “Have you heard from your father lately?” “Nah, but it’s okay. I’m done waiting for him to show up,” I replied. She looked at me with a mix of sadness and understanding. “I’m sorry it turned out this way, Ryder. I always hoped…” “I know, Mom,” I hugged her. “But I’ve got you, and that’s more than enough.” As time passed, I learned that my worth wasn’t tied to Dad’s attention. I found strength in the love and support around me and realized that sometimes people won’t be what you need them to be—and that’s okay. The fishing rod still sits in my closet, untouched. It serves as a reminder, not of what I lost, but of what I gained—self-respect, resilience, and the ability to let go of what I can’t change. What would you have done if you were in my place?
Leave a Reply