Carrie Underwood often gets dressed up for red carpet events, so it wasn’t surprising to see her wearing a lot of makeup while fishing with her husband, Mike Fisher. In a September 13 Instagram post, Underwood shared several photos of them on a boat, happily showing off their catches. She wrote, “Had the BEST day today fly fishing in Montana! Thanks to our awesome guide, Jason, for the expertise! What a day!” In the pictures, the singer of “Before He Cheats” looked almost unrecognizable, and as someone who knows about makeup, I could tell why.
Carrie Underwood usually has a smoky eye look, but she often adds some light shimmer to soften it. In her fishing pictures, though, she seemed to have used a darker brown eyeshadow that made her eyes look smaller instead of wider. Her eyebrows also looked darker than usual, which changed her overall appearance. One fan commented, “I think she’s great, but honestly, I can’t recognize her. She has always been so naturally beautiful. Has she had a lot of surgery or new teeth?”
Underwood did talk about an accident in 2017 that left her with over 40 stitches on her face, which might have changed how she looks. However, her heavy makeup and fuller lips lately are fueling ongoing rumors about plastic surgery.
Carrie Underwood’s overly bronzed makeup was somethin’ bad
Carrie Underwood looked almost unrecognizable in an Instagram video she shared on September 21. Instead of her usual soft glam, her face had a very dark bronze color that resembled a spray tan that didn’t turn out well. It wasn’t the nice glow that Jennifer Lopez made popular in the early 2000s. It was more like Ross Geller from Friends when he used the spray tan machine incorrectly and ended up way too dark.
We’ve seen Carrie Underwood without makeup many times, and she looks stunning. While we totally support her love for makeup, this time the bronzer seemed too much and gave her face a muddy look. One fan commented, “I know she’s making a video, but seriously!” Another fan noticed, “Her lips are getting bigger.”
It’s true that you can make your lips look fuller with lip liner, different lipstick shades, and gloss. However, many fans believe Underwood might have used fillers to enhance her lips, and there’s no shame in that. When asked about the plastic surgery rumors, she told Redbook in 2018, “It’s a little sad because the truth is just as interesting. I wish I had gotten some great plastic surgery to improve this [scar], but I try not to worry too much about it.”
I Didn’t Tell My Husband’s Family I Speak Their Language, and It Helped Me Uncover a Shocking Secret about My Child…
I thought I knew everything about my husband—until I overheard a conversation between his mother and sister that shattered my world. When Peter finally revealed the secret he had been hiding about our first child, everything I believed in crumbled, leaving me questioning our entire relationship.
Peter and I had been married for three years. Our relationship had begun during a magical summer, where everything seemed to fall into place effortlessly. He was exactly what I’d been searching for—smart, funny, and kind. When we found out I was pregnant with our first child just months after getting together, it felt like fate.
Now, we were expecting our second child, and on the surface, our life seemed perfect. But things were not as they appeared.
I’m American, and Peter is German. In the early days, the cultural differences felt exciting. When Peter’s job relocated us to Germany, we moved there with our first child, thinking it would be a fresh start. But the transition wasn’t as smooth as I had hoped.
Germany was beautiful, and Peter was overjoyed to return home. But I struggled to adjust. I missed my family and friends, and Peter’s parents, Ingrid and Klaus, were cordial but distant. They didn’t speak much English, but I understood more German than they realized.
At first, I didn’t mind the language barrier. I thought it would help me learn and integrate better. But soon, I began to overhear unsettling comments.
Peter’s family visited often, especially his mother and sister, Klara. They would sit in the living room, chatting in German while I stayed busy in the kitchen or looking after our child. They seemed to forget that I could understand them.
“That dress doesn’t suit her at all,” Ingrid remarked one day, not bothering to lower her voice.
Klara smirked and added, “She’s gained so much weight with this pregnancy.”
I glanced down at my growing belly, feeling their words sting. I was pregnant, yes, but their judgment cut deep. Still, I remained silent. I didn’t want to confront them—at least not yet. I wanted to see just how far they would go.
One afternoon, though, I overheard something far more hurtful.
“She looks exhausted,” Ingrid said as she poured tea. “I wonder how she’ll manage with two kids.”
Klara leaned in and whispered, “I’m still not convinced that first baby is even Peter’s. He doesn’t look anything like him.”
I froze. They were talking about our son.
Ingrid sighed. “That red hair… it’s definitely not from our side of the family.”
Klara chuckled, “Maybe she hasn’t been completely honest with Peter.”
They both laughed softly, unaware that I had heard every word. I stood there, paralyzed. How could they even suggest something like that? I wanted to confront them, but I stayed silent, my hands trembling.
After the birth of our second baby, the tension only grew. Ingrid and Klara visited, bringing forced smiles and congratulations, but I could feel something was off. Their whispers and glances made it clear they were hiding something.
As I sat feeding the baby one afternoon, I overheard them talking in hushed tones.
“She still doesn’t know, does she?” Ingrid asked.
Klara laughed. “Of course not. Peter never told her the truth about their first baby.”
My heart stopped. What truth? What were they talking about? I felt my pulse race as panic washed over me. I had to know what they meant.
That night, I confronted Peter. I called him into the kitchen, my voice barely steady.
“Peter,” I whispered, “what haven’t you told me about our first baby?”
He froze, his face turning pale. For a moment, he didn’t speak. Then, with a heavy sigh, he sat down and buried his face in his hands.
“There’s something you don’t know,” he said, guilt written all over his face. “When you were pregnant with our first… my family pressured me to take a paternity test.”
I stared at him, struggling to comprehend his words. “A paternity test? Why would you need to do that?”
“They didn’t believe the baby was mine,” Peter explained, his voice breaking. “They thought the timing was too close to when you ended your previous relationship.”
My head spun. “So you took the test? Without telling me?”
Peter stood, his hands trembling. “It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you! I never doubted you. But my family wouldn’t let it go. They kept pushing me, and I didn’t know how to make them stop.”
“And what did the test say?” I demanded, my voice rising in panic.
Peter hesitated, his eyes filled with regret. “It said… I wasn’t the father.”
The room felt like it was collapsing around me. “What?” I whispered, barely able to breathe. “How could that be?”
Peter moved closer, desperate to explain. “I know you didn’t cheat on me. I know the baby is mine in every way that matters. But the test came back negative. My family didn’t believe me when I told them it had to be wrong.”
I stepped back, shaking. “So you’ve known this for years and never told me? How could you keep something like this from me, Peter?”
Peter’s face crumpled. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice breaking. “I knew it didn’t change anything for me. The test didn’t matter. I wanted to protect you from the pain and confusion. I didn’t want to lose you.”
Tears streamed down my face. “You should’ve trusted me,” I said, my voice trembling. “We’ve been raising him together, and you’ve been his father. We could’ve handled this together, but instead, you lied to me.”
Peter reached for my hands, but I pulled away. “I know,” he whispered. “I was scared. I didn’t want you to think I doubted you.”
I needed air. I walked outside into the cool night, hoping it would calm the storm raging inside me. How could he have kept this from me? How could he have known and said nothing?
For a few moments, I stared up at the stars, trying to make sense of it all. Despite everything, I knew Peter wasn’t a bad person. His family had pressured him, and he had made a terrible mistake. But he had always stayed by my side, and by our son’s side. He had lied, but out of fear, not malice.
After wiping away my tears, I knew I had to go back inside. We couldn’t leave things unresolved.
When I returned to the kitchen, Peter was sitting at the table, his face buried in his hands. He looked up when he heard me, his eyes red and swollen.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
It would take time for me to heal from this, but I knew we couldn’t throw away everything we’d built. We had a family, and despite the hurt, I still loved him.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said softly. “Together.”
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