Ty Pennington became a household name working as a hunky carpenter – but today he looks different. The 58-year-old star has unfortunately had to endure bullying and harassment on social media.

As a handsome carpenter, Ty Pennington rose to fame; nevertheless, he no longer looks the same. Regretfully, the 58-year-old celebrity has experienced criticism and bullying on social media. He has been dubbed “disgusting,” “fat,” and “gross” by others. Ty finally had enough, and his most recent response to the critics is outstanding.

Several people have fallen in love with Ty Pennington, the host of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, ever since he made an appearance on the well-liked BBC show Trading Spaces, where he worked as a carpenter. Being incredibly talented and attractive, it was no surprise that Ty was asked to host one of the greatest programs for the underprivileged.

Ty was in the spotlight as the show’s host, but being on the set had its costs. He had a hard time finding time for himself.

“I went ten years without seeing my family or a partner. In 2019, he told The Atlanta Constitution, “I would go out again, come home, do laundry.”

“My God! People from the old TV show exclaimed when they saw me. You look fantastic! I slept for a while! I think my appearance has improved significantly from the time I was on the show.

To be honest, Ty wasn’t always interested in being a builder. Instead, he intended to become a graphic designer and worked in construction to help pay for art school. However, his modeling career was derailed by a near-fatal car accident, so he resorted to carpentry.

“My career appeared to take off overnight. Sadly, fate had other ideas. I would be in a terrible vehicle accident only a week later,” he posted on Instagram. “I put my one good headshot on display, grabbed my handy tool bag, and returned to carpentry and construction. I received an audition call for Trading Spaces nine years later, and the rest is history.

He first made his Hollywood debut as a set designer for Nicholas Cage’s 1995 picture Leaving Las Vegas, but it wasn’t until he appeared as a builder on Trading Spaces—the show that upended preconceived notions about home remodeling—that he became well-known.

Ty moved on to other endeavors when Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, which had won him two Prime Time Emmy Awards, was canceled back in 2011. He appeared on The Revolution, an ABC chat show, and then On The Menu and American Diner Revival, two cookery programs. In addition, he launched a design store in Los Angeles. In addition to participating in the third season of Deluxe Corporation’s Small Business Revolution: Main Street, Ty renovated Trading Spaces in 2018. He was seen hosting Battle on the Beach most recently.

He wasn’t asked to return to Extreme Makeover: Home Edition when the show recently aired again, but he insisted there are no ill will or ill blood.

Ty currently hosts the program Rock the Block and serves as a mentor and design consultant on HGTV’s Battle on the Beach.

In November 2021, Ty tied the knot with 33-year-old Kellee Merrell, a social media manager. He announced the wonderful news on Instagram by sharing a picture with the remark, “It’s the ‘yes’ for me,” and proposed to her with a stunning tea-drop-shaped diamond ring.

Although they have known each other for a long time, they didn’t begin dating until last year when they happened to cross paths.

“I’ve long admired Kellee from a distance. Ty told People, “She’s a beautiful person on the inside and out.”

Fortunately, the proper moment finally came for our paths to cross. It’s one of those situations where being with someone makes you feel content. She altered my perception of marriage, which I had never held. I’m happy I held out for the one.

After several viewers pointed out that he no longer had a six-pack, the host shared a humorous video of him from the beach last year with his shorts hiked up to his stomach. He also remarked that “he was pushing his stomach out.”

“What was an honest moment of just trying to make my wife laugh, was then picked apart by strangers- with a lot of views, comes a lot of hate!” he said in a lengthy Instagram post titled “Thoughts on Aging,” in response to the criticism. Remarks such as “gross,” “disgusting,” “grandpa,” “he got fat,” “omg he’s so old now,” etc.And I pondered whether I would receive the same remarks if I was still in good health. “Maybe we should extend the same grace to men as we do to women? There has been such a force behind accepting all shapes and sizes and aging in the female community, which is AWESOME (keep it coming),” he said.

Of course, he was much younger than he is now when he made his television debut.

“Every day, I get a ton of comments like, ‘NOOOo, what happened to him????’ The other day, I heard someone say, “lack of exercise,” which I hope was accurate! Seven days a week, I work out harder than I have ever worked out in my life (this over 50 sh*t is no joke). It’s been 22 years since my television debut, so here’s what occurred! He penned. “No, I don’t have a six pack or a gorgeous head of hair with frosted tips anymore, but at 57 years old, I’ve never been happier! I do, however, have wisdom, empathy, and life lessons! All of this is to indicate, nevertheless, that I am a human being with feelings. Yes, I am older, but that’s kind of cool, in my opinion.

In our opinion, he looks fantastic.

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A Scale, Suspicious Notifications, and a Person with Keys to Our House: What I Found Behind My Husband’s Lies

When Nicole started receiving mysterious notifications from the digital bathroom scale her husband brought home, she brushed it off as a glitch. But as the same numbers appeared week after week, her suspicions grew: Was Justin hiding something — or someone? What she uncovered SHOOK HER TO HER CORE.

What would you do if strange notifications started popping up on your phone? Like, ones you couldn’t explain? Because that’s exactly what happened to me, and let me tell you — it led to one hell of a discovery.

It started with a bathroom scale — a digital one. My husband, Justin, brought it home one random Saturday. “Let’s stay healthy together,” he said with this casual smile like it was no big deal. I wasn’t thrilled, but I played along. We stepped on it to “test” it out. Mine read 134.4 lbs, and his weight was 189.5 lbs.

A woman measuring her weight on a weighing scale | Source: Freepik

A woman measuring her weight on a weighing scale | Source: Freepik

“Wow, I didn’t realize I was pushing 190,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

I noticed his hand slightly trembling as he stepped off. “Justin? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just… just surprised, that’s all.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I used to be so fit in college.”

“We all change with time,” I said, touching his arm. He flinched away so subtly that I almost missed it.

I thought that might’ve been the end — just another gadget to collect dust in the bathroom. However, weeks later, these weird notifications started popping up on my phone. I’d linked the scale to an app when we first set it up, and one day, while sitting at work, I got a message:

“Unidentified user: weight 152.1 lbs.”

A shocked woman seeing her phone | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman seeing her phone | Source: Midjourney

I thought maybe Justin had stepped on the scale. But he weighed 189.5 pounds. Then it happened again. And again. I got these notifications three times a week. Same weight. Same time. Something didn’t add up.

At dinner one night, I asked him casually, “Hey, have you been using the scale while I’m at work?”

He didn’t even look up from his plate. “Nope. It’s probably the kids playing with it.”

“Three times a week at the exact same time?” I pressed, raising an eyebrow.

“Geez, Nicole!” His fork clattered against the plate. “Why are you interrogating me about a damn scale?”

An annoyed man | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed man | Source: Midjourney

“I’m not interrogating you. I’m just asking a simple question. And the numbers are, I don’t know… weird. You weigh 189.5 pounds. But the notification said 152.1. Am I missing something?”

He shrugged, clearly annoyed. “Maybe they’re holding the dog when they weigh themselves. I don’t know, Nicole. It’s just a scale. Why are you so obsessed with this?”

That was the first red flag. Something about the way he said it — so quick and dismissive — didn’t sit right with me. But I didn’t want to start a fight over a stupid scale, so I let it go for a while.

But the notifications didn’t stop.

A doubtful woman | Source: Midjourney

A doubtful woman | Source: Midjourney

Sometimes, the weight was random — 189.5 lbs (Justin’s weight), 35.3 lbs, or even 24.2 lbs. But that damn 152.1 lbs kept popping up like a ghost that refused to leave. This happened three times a week, like clockwork.

One night, I couldn’t sleep. The numbers kept dancing in my head.

“Justin?” I whispered in the darkness.

“Mmph?” he mumbled.

“Are you happy? With us, I mean?”

He rolled over, suddenly alert. “Where is this coming from?”

A frustrated man in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A frustrated man in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t know. You just seem… distant lately. Like you’re keeping something from me.”

“Nicole,” he sighed heavily, “it’s 2 a.m. Can we not do this now?”

“When should we do it then?” I demanded, sitting up. “Because every time I try to talk to you, you shut me down!”

“How annoying can this get?!” He threw off the covers and stormed out of the bedroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

An anxious woman | Source: Midjourney

An anxious woman | Source: Midjourney

One evening, while Justin was at the grocery store, I decided to take the scale to customer service, convinced it was broken. But when I explained the issue, the employee ran a diagnostic test and handed it back with a shrug.

“It’s working perfectly,” he said. “Every weight logged is based on someone actually using it.”

I felt my stomach knot. Someone was ACTUALLY using it?

When I got home, I confronted Justin again. “The scale isn’t broken,” I told him. “So who keeps stepping on it? It’s clearly someone who weighs 152.1 pounds. And it’s none of us here. Not you. Not me. Not the kids. And don’t you dare tell me it’s our dog.”

He sighed, his jaw tightening. “Nicole, it’s the kids. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

A furious woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

A furious woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

“You’re sure about that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Because I’ve been watching them. They’re never home at that time.”

“Are you spying on our children now?” he exploded. “What’s next? Hidden cameras?”

“Maybe I should install some!” I shot back, tears burning in my eyes. “Since you won’t give me a straight answer!”

“Nicole, drop it!” he snapped, storming upstairs to our room. “It’s not a big deal. You’re acting like this is some kind of conspiracy.”

That was red flag number two. Then came the day everything changed.

I was on a work trip, trying to focus on a meeting, when my phone buzzed with another notification: “Unidentified user: weight 152.1 lbs.”

I happened to be on the phone with my eldest son at the time. “Hey,” I asked, keeping my voice light. “Who’s messing with the scale right now?”

A cellphone on a table | Source: Pexels

A cellphone on a table | Source: Pexels

“What scale?” he asked, sounding confused.

“The one in the bathroom,” I said. “Who’s using it?”

“Mom, no one’s home except Dad,” he said. “We’re all at school. Are you okay? You sound weird.”

My heart started racing. “I’m fine, sweetie. Just… checking something.”

“Mom,” he hesitated, “is everything okay with you and Dad? We’ve noticed you guys fighting more.”

“Everything’s fine,” I lied, my voice cracking. “Just adult stuff. Don’t worry about it. Okay. Thanks, sweetie. Love you.”

After I hung up, the realization hit me like a brick: Someone else was in my house. With Justin. But who?

My brain immediately went to the worst place. WAS IT HIS MISTRESS?

A suspicious woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

A suspicious woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

I tried to call Justin, but when he picked up, his response was the same as always: “It’s the kids, Nicole. Stop overthinking it.”

“Stop lying to me!” I screamed into the phone, my hands shaking. “I just talked to them — they’re at school!”

There was a long pause. “I have to go,” he said quietly. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Justin, don’t you dare hang up —” The line went dead.

But now, I couldn’t ignore it. Someone was sneaking into my house, using the scale, and Justin was covering it up. I needed to figure out who.

The next night, after I got home, I sat down and combed through every notification on the app. That’s when I noticed the pattern: Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Always at 1:50 p.m.

The next day was Thursday. And I knew exactly what I had to do.

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

I left work early, parked my car down the street, and waited. My heart pounded as the clock ticked closer to 1:50 p.m.

“Please let me be wrong,” I whispered, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. “Please, please let me be wrong.”

At exactly 1:50 p.m., I got the message. And at 1:53 p.m., I saw someone walking out of my house.

From behind, they looked like a woman — lean, with a long ponytail swinging back and forth. But then they turned, and I FROZE. It wasn’t a woman. It was a MAN.

My mind raced with possibilities, each worse than the last. Was Justin living some kind of double life?

A man with a long ponytail closing a door | Source: Midjourney

A man with a long ponytail closing a door | Source: Midjourney

Furious, I jumped out of the car and marched toward him. “HEY!” I shouted. “WHO ARE YOU, AND WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!”

He turned, startled. “Oh, uh… you must be Nicole. Justin’s wife.”

My stomach twisted. “What? Who are you? And why do you have keys to my house?”

He raised his hands like I was about to arrest him. “I guess Justin didn’t tell you about us,” he said sheepishly. “Please don’t judge him! He was too embarrassed to talk about it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I snapped. “What US?!”

A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney

A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney

“I’m Derek,” he said quickly. “Justin’s old college friend. He called me a couple of weeks ago. He’s been worried about his weight and getting out of shape. I’m a personal trainer and sports masseur.”

My head spun. “You’re… his TRAINER?”

“Yeah, I —” Derek started, but I cut him off.

“No, stop. Just stop.” I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to make sense of it all. “You expect me to believe that my husband, who’s been acting like he’s having an affair, gave you keys to our house for… FITNESS TRAINING?”

Derek nodded, looking genuinely apologetic. “Justin didn’t want you to know because he was embarrassed about gaining weight. And the keys… look, after each session, I give him a massage to help with muscle recovery. He has to lie still for about ten to 30 minutes afterward, so he asked me to lock up when I leave. That’s why he gave me the spare keys. I’m really sorry for the confusion.”

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

He hesitated before adding, “I know how this looks, but Justin’s been going through a lot. When he lost his job —”

I stared at him, completely dumbfounded. All the sneaking around, all the gaslighting… over personal training? My husband had been fired six months ago and must’ve felt so uneasy about himself. And I didn’t even notice how he’d been depressed and how he’d gained weight.

So that’s why he bought the digital scale. I felt guilty for not noticing how much he’d been struggling, but at the same time, I was upset that he’d kept something so big from me.

A guilty woman | Source: Midjourney

A guilty woman | Source: Midjourney

When I walked into the house ten minutes later, Justin acted completely normal, like nothing had happened. “Hey,” he said casually, slipping his phone into his pocket. “You’re back?! I was just about to jump in the shower.”

I didn’t say a word, just nodded and watched him walk upstairs. My thoughts were racing, but I waited. When he came back downstairs after his shower, I was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, waiting for him.

“So,” I began, arms crossed, “how long have you been hiding Derek from me?”

His face turned pale. “You… met Derek?”

A man gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

A man gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah, Justin. I met Derek. The guy with a ponytail who’s been sneaking into our house three times a week. Care to explain?”

“Nicole, I can explain everything —”

“Can you?” I interrupted, my voice shaking. “Because Derek already did. About the training sessions.”

The color drained from his face as he sighed, collapsing onto the couch. “I didn’t want you to know,” he admitted. “I’ve been feeling terrible since I lost my job. I gained weight, and I just… I didn’t want you to laugh at me.”

“Laugh at you? Justin, I thought you were CHEATING on me! You lied, gave someone keys to our house, and made me feel like I was crazy!”

“I know,” he said quietly, his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

A man looking guilty | Source: Midjourney

A man looking guilty | Source: Midjourney

“Do you have any idea what you put me through?” I choked out. “I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I kept imagining the worst possible scenarios!”

“I was ashamed,” he sobbed. “I failed you. Failed our family. I thought if I could just get back in shape, find a new job… maybe I could be worthy of you again.”

I stared at him, my anger softening just a little. “Justin, I’m your wife. You don’t have to hide things from me. But you sure as hell don’t get to gaslight me either.”

The next day, I decided to convey an unforgettable message to Justin.

A frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney

A frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney

The house was packed with friends and family when he got home from his evening walk. Balloons shaped like dumbbells hung from the ceiling, and a giant “Justin’s Fitness Journey” banner stretched across the living room along with his “before and after” photos.

“What… what is this?” he stammered, looking around in horror.

“A party!” I said brightly. “To celebrate your hard work. Since you went to such great lengths to hide it, I thought it deserved some extra attention.”

His face turned red as everyone clapped and cheered.

“Nicole,” he whispered, pulling me aside, “I don’t deserve this. After everything I put you through…”

“You’re right,” I said firmly. “You don’t deserve it. But you know what you do deserve? Support. Love. Understanding. All the things you were too afraid to ask for.”

A man smiling with relief | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling with relief | Source: Midjourney

“I promise,” he said, his voice cracking, “no more secrets. No more lies.”

“Good,” I smiled, squeezing his hand. “Because I already changed the locks.”

As the party continued, I leaned over and whispered, “Next time, just tell me the truth. It’s a lot easier than this.”

He nodded, squeezing my hand back. “Next time,” he promised, “we face everything together.”

A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash

A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash

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