I wish my eyelashes would take some lessons from the hairs that grow on my mole.

For some reason, the ones I least want to appear end up darker, thicker, and longer-looking than the kind on my head.

Friends have said they experience the same thing, too. So what’s going on?

Pigmented moles, or those which are a different, darker colour to the rest of your skin, are melanocytic, the British Association of Dermatologists writes.

That means they “are made up of the cells (melanocytes) which produce the dark pigment (melanin) that gives the skin its colour”.

Healthline says this might affect any hairs growing there.

“In some cases, the hair that grows out of a mole may appear darker or thicker than the other body hair surrounding it. This is because the extra pigment in the cells may darken the hair, too,” they suggested.

But speaking to Mental Floss, dermatologist Lauren Ploch said that the exact process is still a “mystery”.

She said that microscopic investigations have shown that nevus cells, a type of melanocyte, don’t seem to invade the actual structure of mole hairs and haven’t been seen to affect colour or growth speed.

But we do know the skin that makes up moles is different to “normal” skin. It can be created by different hormonal balances and signalling proteins.

“I suspect that, while the mole itself may not have a direct role in creating a darker, coarser hair, the local milieu of signaling molecules and hormones in the skin that created the mole leads to a darker, coarser hair within the lesion,” Ploch posited.

Some people think that hairy moles can’t be cancerous. But while some anecdotal accounts suggest the risk may be lower, the Dermatology Associates of Atlanta calls the idea that hairy moles never have cancer a “dangerous myth”.

They added, “While melanoma tends to eventually make mole hairs fall out, this doesn’t happen until the cancer has advanced”.

They’re not alone. In a TikTok video, dermatologist Dr Sam Ellis said: “Whether or not a mole grows a hair has absolutely nothing to do with whether ot not it’s cancerous”.

Experts recommend following the ABCDE method to identify potentially cancerous moles instead.

• A: asymmetry,
• B: border irregularity,
• C: colour variability,
• D: diameter (a mole that’s bigger than 6mm across),
• E: evolution (watch out for moles that change in size, shape, or colour).

If you notice these, visit your GP.

We hope you love the products we recommend! All of them were independently selected by our editors. Just so you know, HuffPost UK may collect a share of sales or other compensation from the links on this page if you decide to shop from them. Oh, and FYI — prices are accurate and items in stock as of time of publication.

It’s time to start expecting more from your suitcases. Point blank.

Yes, they’re mainly something to store all your things in, and they should do that really well. But that doesn’t mean they can’t be so much more.

There are so many stressful elements of travelling, but for more me one of the worst fears is losing my case, and with it, all my belongings.

I had a near brush with this once when my checked suitcase was irretrievable for four days on a month-long trip to the US a few years ago.

But I must admit I’m always worrying about someone grabbing my carry-on case off a plane or train without my knowing, or even out of a hotel lobby (sorry if this is unlocking a new fear for you).

Thus, anything I can do to abate that fear is top of my list of priorities. So there couldn’t be a more perfect product for me than July’s latest release: a top-down packing suitcase that has a built-in tracking device, so you can always have peace of mind.

As soon as it arrived, I knew we’d be firm and fast travel buds.

You would not believe the divine timing on this case – it launched the week before I was set to go on a long weekend trip to Paris, and arrived at my house no more than an hour before I had to leave.

Thus, I had to reorganise my packing from a duffle bag into this case. I took enough clothes for five days (and then some) including my laptop, three pairs of shoes, and plenty of toiletries.

I travelled on the Eurostar, so this case withstood lots of tube, train, and metro travelling over the course of five days. And, I’m pleased to say, I didn’t take another bag.

I must admit, I’m quite precious about my clothes and shoes, so when the case arrived with a supremely hard shell made from 100% polycarbonate, I was a happy bunny. I ordered the white version, but it’s also available in tan, black, navy, and green.

Risky, you might think (my friends and girlfriend have taken to calling it ‘The Kim K’) but even after five days it is barely scuffed, and I think the exterior will be easy to clean when it inevitably gets dirty.

Immediately, I could tell it would have the smoothest glide – and I was right. With a solid build, the case doesn’t topple over unlike other carry ons (which I’ve noticed especially happens when I overpack, weird!).

It’s also extremely easy to drag, as it comes with completely silent 360 double spinner wheels. I had a lot of fun pushing it ahead of me and seeing how little I could touch it on my journey to and from Paris.

The handle is easy to open at any given moment, thanks to the button underneath, which makes it intuitive to unlock when you wrap your hand around it. It also has multiple stops, so you can raise it to the ideal height for you.

Next to the handle is a combination code, for extra reassurance that no one is going to take your things en route, and a location tracker.

Of course, I had to get synced up to that straight away, which you can do with Find My iPhone or Google Hub, and took mere seconds to set up. All you have to do is remove the tab, and add an ‘item’ to your tracker on your phone, which will then pair with your suitcase.

Now, probably the most notable thing about the Carry On Pro is that it doesn’t have a front pocket – at least not on the outside.

But when you unzip it (by pressing the button that releases the magnetism on the zippers) you’re met with a handy front pocket that allows you to have access to anything you’ll need on your journey – shoes, book, or laptop.

There’s also a zipper pocket in there for your more sensitive items like passport, phone, and keys. This means you don’t have to open your entire suitcase to reach your essentials on the go.

To unlock the rest of the suitcase, you simply undo another set of zips to move from the front pocket to the rest of the suitcase.

July describes this mechanism as ‘top-down’ packing, which means essentially there’s only one compartment, rather than two halves, so there’s plenty of volume and depth to fit everything you need in there.

The other side of the front pocket doubles as a separator with a small and large pockets for things like underwear, toiletries, or whatever else you want. Then there’s the large compartment, which I had no trouble fitting more than enough clothes for a long weekend in.

Plus, there’s a small interior pocket near the wheels so you can hide sensitive items (like travel sex toys… just saying), and a Y-compressor strap to keep everything held in one place.

• Silent, easy to drag wheels
• The top-down system is easy to use
• Location tracker and combination lock for extra security
• Handle easy to unlock
• Plenty of internal pockets
• Comes with a wash bag

• On the heavier side at 4.1kg
• No side handle

I loved the fact that I didn’t have to worry about all of my bits and bobs flailing around from one half of my case into the other. The ‘top-down’ approach is completely intuitive to use, from packing through to travelling, and eventually unpacking.

Then, of course, there’s the fact that you have the security of the location tracker, combination lock, and multiple internal pockets to keep everything safe.

It really is the details the make the difference between easy packing and a chore, which is why I have to give bonus points to the inclusion of a stain-proof laundry bag.

And, as someone who hates taking a suitcase with me, I appreciated how easy it was to drag this along – it was completely noiseless, I could drag it with two fingers, and you can even lock the wheels while you’re travelling so it doesn’t go flying down the carriage.

My one note would be that there isn’t a side handle, which might make lifting it into the overhead locker quite awkward, depending on how much you’ve packed.

But honestly, that’s being picky, because overall I’d rate this a 4.5 out of five stars, and I’m already raring to break it out for my next trip.

Once upon a time, people swiped on dating profiles because of big biceps, adorable dogs, or the massive fish a person may or may not have actually caught.

Dating culture, however, is always evolving. Suddenly we’re “freak matching” or “shrekking” or intentionally looking for a “slow burn” romance.

But, now, one of the latest must-haves for a sparkling dating profile feels surprisingly down-to-earth: showing off a love of reading.

Recently, pop star Dua Lipa married actor Callum Turner in a glamorous, multi-day Italian wedding extravaganza. As gorgeous as the celebrations were, it was their meet-cute that really captured people’s imaginations.

Turner shared that they met at a mutual friend’s birthday party, when they sat next to each other and discovered they were both reading the exact same book, Trust by Hernán Díaz. Not only that, but they had both just finished the first chapter.

To which Turner claimed he said to his future wife, “So we’re on the same page.”

If a rom-com writer pitched that storyline, we might call it unrealistic. But the internet, upon hearing this story, was totally swooning.

In modern swipe culture, books are boosting attraction. Reading has become a staple of dating app profiles, whether it’s including your favorite novel as a prompt, stating your go-to genre, or specifying that you’re “looking for someone to talk books with.” Reading is quickly becoming an item on our good partner wish list – and, for many, a non-negotiable.

Whether it’s romantasy, a Dan Brown airport thriller, or the latest BookTok sensation, reading – and talking about reading – seems to be having a moment. And dating apps are no different.

“These days, we tend to seek partners on dating platforms. So the first thing that pops up is a photo,” Dr. Suzanne Degges-White, a licensed counsellor and relationship expert at the Headway app, told HuffPost.

“But it’s not just a face or a beautiful background anymore that gets the swipe right; people look for some cues that would show foundation for connection, intelligence and empathy.”

Citing research from Headway examining modern trends around readers, Degges-White said they found “that 75% of people, regardless of physical attractiveness, find partners who read or indicate that they are well-read more attractive.”

“This evokes a certain emotional maturity that people are seeking in a partner,” she continued. “People consider books a sign of a willingness to better understand oneself and others, develop empathy and resolve conflicts.”

Tinder users apparently report similar patterns: “Reading is clearly having a moment,” Devyn Simone, the app’s relationship expert, told HuffPost.

“Mentions of books in Tinder bios are up 29% overall and have jumped 41% among women. When someone shares what they’re reading, it offers a glimpse into their inner world. Are they into sweeping romance, dark thrillers or epic fantasy? Those choices hint at what excites them, what they value in connection and how they might show up in love.”

“With 37% of singles saying shared values are important to them, showcasing your interests isn’t performative – it’s purposeful,” Simone said. “Singles today are craving partners who feel thoughtful, intentional and just a little bit like the main character.”

I didn’t realise I wanted to date a reader until I actually did. I once spent three months in a relationship with someone who loved books as much as I did – and some of my favourite memories were simply talking about what we were reading. He read the books I recommended, and I did the same for him.

Although the relationship didn’t work out – and he wasn’t a great match in many other ways – I still think fondly about those conversations.

“There’s something undeniably attractive about someone who reads,” Annabelle Knight, sex and relationships expert at Lovehoney, told HuffPost. “It signals curiosity, emotional intelligence and empathy – all qualities that translate beautifully into relationships and the bedroom.”

Plus, there are other benefits of a well-read mind: “A partner who reads is often more in tune with communication, more open-minded, and more willing to explore different perspectives, which can create deeper emotional and sexual connections.”

Reading also creates conversation fuel. Silence becomes easier to navigate when you can talk about a book.

“For singles, bonding over books can create a slow-burn kind of tension,” Knight continues. “Sharing favourite passages, discussing characters you’re drawn to, or even reading the same spicy novel at the same time can build anticipation and spark conversations about desires in a way that feels safe and playful. It’s a subtle form of foreplay that starts long before you’re physically intimate.”

“Ultimately, reading stimulates the brain, and the brain is the body’s biggest erogenous zone,” Knight says. “When you turn someone’s mind on, the rest tends to follow.”

Simone also noted that it’s not just about the books themselves, but the habit of reading. Nowadays, millennials and Gen Z alike are known to have shorter attention spans, and a 300-page book is very different from a 20-word Instagram caption.

“There’s something quietly confident about someone who can unplug and focus,” she said. “In a culture built on constant scrolling and short attention spans, reading signals patience, curiosity and emotional range — all qualities that contribute to real chemistry and connection. So of course, reading is hot!”

While someone having different reading habits from you is hardly an intense dealbreaker, it could be important for you – and someone with a list of interesting books they’ve read (and an interest in what you’ve read) can totally be a green flag.

And, at the end of the day, who wouldn’t want to find someone to curl up next to and enjoy a good book?

When my divorce lawyer told me in 2020 that I might only see my children every other weekend, I wasn’t just afraid of losing time with my kids. I was terrified of becoming the kind of father mine had been.

“[Your ex wife] is filing for primary physical custody. In this set up, you would be granted limited parenting time every other weekend from Thursday evening until Monday morning,” my lawyer informed me.

The words “limited parenting time” sent a cold shiver down my spine.

“No,” I said firmly into the phone speaker, my voice cracking. “I will do whatever it takes to get equal custody.”

I stood up and started pacing around the kitchen island as one thought played on loop in my head: “I can’t repeat the cycle. I can’t be an absent parent to Lydia and Peter, just like he was to me.”

Mere months before that phone call with my lawyer, I had flown to Ghana, to ask my own father why he didn’t fight for me. The decision to visit him had been partly spurred by Father’s Day in 2019.

Father’s Day was always one of my worst days of the year, as it would bring up feelings of abandonment and rejection, and there were no Hallmark cards that said, “You weren’t present, but thanks for being a part of my birth!”

A few years after my father and my mother divorced, he remarried and eventually moved to Kenya with his new family. Meanwhile, my mom, stepbrother and I struggled with a period of being unhoused and living on welfare.

When I visited Ghana, my father’s answer to my question about his absenteeism surprised me: he said he had never intended to leave me behind. He’d had custody struggles and interpersonal conflicts with my mother, and he decided that the best thing was to let me find him when I was ready. Minus the last part, it sounded eerily similar to what I was facing today.

I forgave him, but I have never stopped wishing he had fought for me.

And now, pacing around the granite kitchen countertop of the apartment I’d rented to be close to my kids after my ex-wife and I separated, it felt like history was repeating itself.

Knowing my own father’s story, I was plagued by the thought that giving up equal custody was a slippery slope. First, it’s custody. And then, it might become easier to skip a weekend here and there, or let a new marriage or job relocate me to a new state (or worse, like my own father, a new country).

Thankfully, my ex-wife and I were able to decide on a shared custody agreement. I would live in the same school district, and we’d alternate one week off, one week on with the kids.

This solved the main problem. But, as I soon discovered, my fear of repeating the cycle couldn’t be solved with just a custody agreement.

Before the divorce, I was travelling almost 100 times a year as a keynote speaker. My ex-wife, on the other hand, had left her job to study full-time, so she had been more hands-on with the kids’ bedtime routines, dinner schedules and school drop-offs.

Honestly, I was terrified. Was I cut out for the job? Dinners, packing school lunches, doing Lydia’s hair (I’d never done a girl’s hair before), supervising homework and making sure they didn’t stay up too late watching TV – could I do it all? Were they actually better off staying with their mother, and just joining me for fun weekends and holidays? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have these thoughts almost daily.

Every time the kids and I had a disagreement, or they refused to do their homework or put their electronics away, I’d wonder: “Is this just normal development? Or is it because they’re not in a two-parent household?”

And then, there were the times I messed up. Like when I cut Peter’s hair, and I did such a bad job that he was almost bald. Or the time when Lydia stubbed her toe and instead of just offering comfort, I jumped into, “What did you learn from this?” I could see it in their faces: in that moment, they wished I had shown up differently.

On top of my fears, I had to fight to be included as a parent. Since the cultural norm is that moms are the primary caregiver, the schools never included me in emails about upcoming field trips or sports events. And when I showed up to my kid’s games or church or parent-teacher conferences, I always imagined I felt eyes on my back.

“People think you’re weird, showing up here alone,” I thought to myself.

But then I’d see Peter running through the field or Lydia at a dance practice catch my eye, and I just knew that them looking into the stands and seeing me made it all worth it.

Still, when I went to bed at night, the negative thoughts would suffocate me. Can I do it? Are they better off without me?

I started going to therapy. Sitting on my therapist’s brown leather couch, the words caught in my throat, like they’d been stuck there for years and were struggling to get dislodged.

“I am afraid I’m the same as my dad,” I told him.

My therapist leaned forward on his chair and said, “You are not your father.”

He said this is evident by the fact that I’ve made different decisions to those that he’d made, all those years ago. He said that making mistakes is a part of parenting, but the important thing is that unlike my own father, I am there for my kids, and I am learning along the way.

My eyes felt hot before the tears came, as a mixture of pain and relief poured out of me. My chest involuntarily started heaving in sobs.

My therapist didn’t wave a magical wand and fixed me, but after that session, something shifted in how I approached fatherhood. I still had self-doubt and, almost weekly, I was pushed into a new zone of discomfort. The change showed up in how I managed the self-doubt.

Ironically, the answer to my problems laid in a single line of a keynote that I’d been delivering dozens of times a year at the time: “When you know your ‘why,’ it helps you overcome obstacles, to be more resilient, to engage, even when there are more challenging moments to come.”

My ‘why’ was Lydia and Peter. The rest? I could figure it out.

The first question I had to ask when arranging shared custody was, “How do I travel less?” I rearranged my work schedule to make sure that I was more present for my kids during our time together. We also started quarterly “fine dining with Daddy” classes. It was part-etiquette training, but mostly, it was a time for me to ask questions like, “How am I doing as a dad?” and “What is one thing I can change or do better?”

My kids shared some feedback that was difficult to hear, like the time they told me that when I am stressed about work, they can feel like they’re walking on eggshells around me. They asked that I am more open and honest, and share that I’m stressed with them. I thanked them for their feedback, and now I do my best to catch myself when I am stressed, regulate my emotions and openly share what is bothering me (when appropriate).

But other times, they surprised me with their feedback.

“You are firm but fair,” Peter once told me. “I love that you do the Daddy-Daughter dances with me,” Lydia shared on another day. This brought tears to my eyes, as I loved that she appreciated the playfulness that I inherited from my own mother.

There are still hard days. Days when I’m overworking myself, or exhausted from travel or when I lose my patience and snap. When this happens, my self-doubt kicks in. But then I think back to the statement my therapist shared in his office that day, that I am not my father.

This experience – the divorce, reckoning with the possibility of not having equal custody of my children, and navigating the uncertainty of life as a solo parent – came with one silver lining.

I have a new perspective on my own father’s decision to be a largely absent parent. I now see just how hard it can be to stay present when it feels like everything is an uphill battle. Experiencing this firsthand, and knowing that my grandfather (my father’s parent) was largely absent from my own dad’s life, has helped me see that my dad probably truly believed that leaving me in the care of my mother was the best decision for me.

It has been seven years since I became a part-time solo dad. I have since remarried (my wife and I are doing long distance for now), and there isn’t a day where I don’t feel doubt or guilt for raising my kids in a home without both of their parents.

However, there also isn’t a day where I am not overcome with love for my children – and gratitude that I get to be there with them as they grow up.

Father’s Day has also changed from being my worst day of the year to my favourite day of the year. Every Father’s Day, Peter and Lydia make me cards. Sometimes they’re funny. Sometimes they’re heartfelt. Sometimes they’re covered in inside jokes that only we understand. And every year, when I read them, I think about the little boy who wished his father had fought harder to stay connected.

Then I look at my own children and realise that breaking the cycle was never about being a perfect father. It was about being a present one.

Justin Jones-Fosu is a husband, full-time daddy, keynote speaker, and author of the newly-released book, Stop Chasing, Start Creating: A Timeless Fable on Mindset, Resilience, and Meaningful Work.

Do you have a compelling personal story you’d like to see published on HuffPost? Find out what we’re looking for here and send us a pitch at pitch@huffpost.com.

Donald Trump has unexpectedly declared that Keir Starmer “will resign as prime minister” on social media.

The US president appears to have jumped the gun as the PM and his top team have publicly insisted that Starmer will not be walking away from the job.

However, The Observer reported on Saturday that the prime minister was going to announce his plan for an orderly exit from office on Monday.

In a post on TruthSocial, the president wrote: “Keir Starmer will resign as Prime Minister of The United Kingdom. He failed badly on two very important subjects- IMMIGRATION AND ENERGY (OPEN NORTH SEA OIL!). I wish him well! President DJT”

The president’s remarks are at odds with the comments from cabinet minister Peter Kyle this morning.

He told Sky News that he no reason to believe the reports Starmer is considering stepping down were true, though he conceded the PM was thinking about the “political realities and challenges” facing him right now.

Speculation about the prime minister’s future is at an all-time high after Starmer’s greatest rival, Andy Burnham, won the Makerfield by-election on Thursday and became a Labour MP.

Burnham, Labour’s most popular politician, will be in a position to challenge Starmer’s leadership once he is sworn into the Commons this coming week.

A Labour MP needs the support of 20% of the parliamentary Labour Party (81 MPs) to trigger a contest.

An incumbent leader does not need to reach that threshold and is automatically put on the ballot.

Starmer insisted on Friday that he would not “walk away” from any leadership contest which may be triggered.

Listen to Commons People, the podcast that makes politics easy. Every week, Kevin Schofield and Kate Nicholson unpack the week’s biggest stories to keep you informed. Join us for straightforward analysis of what’s going on at Westminster.

At the advice of a child psychologist, my boyfriend of six months put a picture of us in his apartment so his three young kids – twin boys (almost 6) and his daughter (barely 4) – could ask questions about me.

I carried interminable energy to solidify this potential family for myself. I didn’t, however, consider how to incorporate their mom into my life.

“Daddy, who is that? What’s her favourite colour? Does she like ice cream? Does she know Mama?” The kids were intrigued and wanted to meet me.

When they met me at a pumpkin patch on a cool Saturday afternoon, they instantly warmed to me. They fought over the seat next to me on the spinning strawberry carnival ride and we shared bites of their apple cider doughnuts.

My whole body washed with elated energy when one of the boys held my hand on the way back to their car.

I thought about their mom, Carrie, often that day as assumptive strangers placed me in the role of mom. However, I told myself the ex-wife and the new girlfriend were ill-fated friends, if by circumstance alone, and didn’t plan to make an effort with her.

We finally met one Sunday on her driveway. Her beautiful, long, strawberry blond hair caught the evening light and she greeted our car with a warm smile. She walked straight over to me like we knew each other. Her energy was unmistakably positive. I shook her hand and feigned a smile, but I didn’t trust her intentions.

Before we left, her daughter came running straight to me, arms outstretched, for one more hug goodbye. An embrace like that from her was the epitome of what love was supposed to feel like, but in that moment I cringed.

I wanted her dad to scoop her up before she could get to me, or for Carrie to turn away and not see her daughter in another woman’s arms, but I instinctively bent down and enveloped her.

Days later my boyfriend reported comments from his ex-wife. She wasn’t happy about the hug. She didn’t like me. She had a bad feeling. Most of all, she wanted him to move back in with her.

Life became filled with secondhand reports and nasty quips from Carrie. She didn’t think I picked cute outfits for them. He told me she said I am very photogenic because I’m not that pretty in real life. She called me manipulative, said that I was trying to erase her, that all I did was help him be a good-time dad, and all the while she was stuck – a struggling single mom.

I then officially shunned the woman who was trying to destroy the love I had with her ex-husband and children.

Knowing it never turned out well for stepmoms in fairy tales, I vowed to be the exception. My entire life became about the kids: I bought animal-shaped cookie cutters, matching pyjamas, monogrammed Christmas stockings. I spent time between corporate meetings concocting activities and making booklets for them to read on our first family road trip to northern Minnesota – complete with a map of our journey, a quiz, and the story of Paul Bunyan.

Once we got married, I felt I had the right to overindulge. I didn’t see how over-the-top my behaviour was at the time.

While putting everything into her kids, I gave nothing to Carrie. I didn’t try to really talk to her during pick-ups and drop-offs as we exchanged niceties in our foyers. We quickly got into a routine of washing the kids’ clothes and handing them back and forth in shopping bags without acknowledgment. I told my husband to stop sharing his location with her. I encouraged him to fight for more custody.

We took the kids to a diner where a kind elderly woman walked by and put her hand on my shoulder. She motioned to my stepdaughter, saying, “You know she looks just like you!” I offered a beaming smile as she walked away. I didn’t correct strangers.

And then, the worst possible ending to my fairy tale: my husband and I got divorced. I would have done anything to avoid the sudden and shocking turn of events that disintegrated my marriage of less than two years, but I couldn’t stop it. He was gone, and by default, they were too. I had no legal claim to the kids I had willingly uprooted my life to stepmother.

I was alone in an empty house, screaming in silence, dumbfounded by what had happened. I roamed into the boys’ bedroom, crawled to their hamper, wiping my tears with the comforting scent of their dirty T-shirts. I lay in the foetal position on my stepdaughter’s bed, watching the sunlight slowly dim into blackness on the pond outside.

The following week, I sat on the floor of the family room staring up at the towering fireplace, wishing the bricks would tumble and bury me in my dream home forever. I didn’t know what to do, what to say to anyone, or any next logical step in my life.

Then my phone rang. It was Carrie.

I stared in disbelief. Should I answer? Was she going to yell at me? Did she hate me now for leaving her children? In a soft and gentle, almost hesitant voice, she asked, “Hey … do you want to take [my daughter] to gymnastics today?” My eyes widened and all I could do was smile as tears dampened the phone against my cheek.

“Yes. Thank you,” was all I could muster.

How lucky I was that Carrie knew what I should do next. I took her daughter to gymnastics practice.

From that moment on, I picked up every FaceTime when the kids called me to say goodnight. Carrie invited my parents to the First Communion party she threw for her sons. In her living room, I sat with her mother, an elusive woman I knew as “Nana” for years, who held my hand and told me how much her grandchildren loved me and that everything would be all right. My dad said to me as we left, “Carrie is a really beautiful person – from a close family.” My mom added, “Yes, just like ours.”

Carrie invited me for bike rides, helped her daughter make a Valentine’s Day card for me that said I was her “one choo love,” and hosted me at her kitchen table on multiple occasions, with concern over how I was doing as I recovered from my divorce from her ex-husband.

It didn’t take long to realise everything he said about her was a lie. She had always been this wonderful person – I just didn’t see it. And while he did everything to keep us apart, I should have done better to come together with her for the sake of raising healthy children.

One year later, her daughter wanted her ears pierced. She requested Carrie and I each hold one of her hands during the process. That same night, I met Carrie’s fiancé. He made the kids move seats at the restaurant so he could sit across from me and get to know me.

He asked me thoughtful questions, reiterated the love his soon-to-be stepkids have for me, and picked up the tab before I could offer to pay. I got in my car that night and smiled to myself. I was thrilled Carrie found someone who deserved her.

Today, Carrie’s kids are 15 and 13, and it’s been seven years since their dad and I divorced, and just as long since I’ve seen him. I’ve never asked him whether it bothers him that I still see his kids. Every invitation is through her.

She was the woman I hated most yet needed in my life more than anyone. She’s the woman who made me a mom when I married her ex and after I divorced him. Maybe I should really thank my ex. He knows how to pick a good woman.

Andrea Javor is a Chicago-based marketing executive and writer working on her memoir. Connect with her on Instagram and X @AndreaEJavor.

This piece was previously published and is being shared again now as part of HuffPost Personal’s “Best Of” series.

Do you have a compelling personal story you’d like to see published on HuffPost? Find out what we’re looking for here and send us a pitch at pitch@huffpost.com.

A notably Zendaya-less Shrek 5 trailer launched this week, leaving fans divided on its new animation style.

But the announcement seems to have brought a bit of Shrek trivia to the fore, too. Recently, an Instagram post showing an edited (and incorrect) page from the book on which the films are based racked up tens of thousands of likes.

Some fans were surprised by the revelation that Shrek was originally a picture book (one much-liked comment reads: “Who else just learned Shrek was based off a book?”).

The story, written by cartoonist William Stieg, does not actually include the line doctored into the viral image which reads, “Shrek decided to marry whatever this thing is. No priest would officiate because God hated Shrek for being alive, so they used a crocodile”.

It’s a bit of a baffling troll, considering how incredibly, skin-crawlingly weird the book (to which the post’s illustration does actually belong) is.

For instance, Shrek! the picture book does actually include lines like “Your horny warts… thrill me” and (my personal favourite): “Shrek popped his eyes, opened his trap, and bellowed a blast of fire. The knight, red-hot, dove into the stagnant moat.”

I mean, Shrek literally eats lightning in the book – he “gobbled it, belched some smoke, and grinned”.

He also cooks a peasant’s pheasant (try saying that five times fast) with his eyes and is told he’ll meet a princess by a bat-cooking witch.

“Any snake dumb enough to bite him instantly got convulsions and died,” the intro, in which Shrek is kicked out of his parents’ home, begins. He had been born in a “black hole”, we learn.

And while there is a donkey and a dragon in the book, the donkey takes Shrek to his “repulsive princess” after the ogre utters the magic spell “apple strudel”. The titular character knocks the (male) dragon out with a “putrid blue flame” long before the two ever meet.

The character that inspired Cameron Diaz’s Fiona, meanwhile, is never beautiful in the original: from the start, Shrek is smitten by her “stunningly ugly” looks.

Another possible viral Shrek myth? A Facebook post suggested that the character was based off of Maurice Tillet, a French-Russian wrestler from the ’40s.

There are some physical similarities. But fact-checking site Snopes said they couldn’t find any evidence to suggest this was actually true and zero reports of Shrek! author William Steig naming Tillet as his inspiration. Snopes has since called the rumour “unfounded”.

They also contacted DreamWorks about the claim and don’t seem to have heard back.