In a world with defined beauty standards, it takes courage to embrace one’s uniqueness fully. Rada, a stunning model, exemplifies this courage as she proudly defends the distinctive patch of hair that grows from her forehead against online trolls and critics.
She went viral for her unique look
At just 18 years old, model Rada Prelevic, also known as Rada Viic on Instagram and TikTok, has captured the attention of social media users worldwide due to a distinctive feature: long strands of hair that gracefully hang from her forehead. Despite the fascination for her unique trait, Rada often finds herself subjected to harsh criticism and hurtful comments online. Trolls label her appearance as «bizarre» and suggest that she remove the locks.
In a candid video shared with her followers, she courageously affirmed that she really loves her hair and she won’t shave it. She also questions herself about why her unique hair bothers so many people.
She was born with it.
The Serbian-born model, now based in Oslo, Norway, where she has been living since the age of 5, shed light on the origins of her distinctive feature. Reflecting on her unusual trait, Rada explained that she was born with it. And there’s no explanation as to why the hair is placed on her forehead and has grown so much. She only knows that the patch is a birthmark.
The hate doesn’t bother her.
Rada’s confidence in her appearance is not only admirable but also inspiring. Despite the online hate, she remains firm in her conviction that her forehead birthmark is a beautiful and integral part of her identity. Her refusal to conform to societal pressures sends a powerful message of empowerment and self-acceptance to her followers and beyond.
The amount of support from Rada’s followers serves as a reminder that kindness and acceptance far exceed negativity. Hundreds of supportive messages flooded the comments section of her post, applauding her confidence and praising her unique beauty.
Her hair helps her modeling career.
For Rada, the unique lock of hair coming from her forehead has evolved into a unique feature, one that she proudly embraces as her personal «trademark» within the fashion industry. She notices that fashion magazines and photographers love her appearance, making her even prouder of the way she looks.
In matters of love and relationships, Rada’s self-assurance extends to her personal life as well. She says that she would never compromise her authenticity for the sake of romantic companionship. She firmly states that she would never be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t appreciate her for who she is.
Rada’s resolute self-confidence and refusal to conform to societal standards of beauty serve as a powerful reminder of the importance of embracing one’s individuality. In the face of relentless criticism and online hate, she remains firm in her self-acceptance, inspiring countless others to celebrate their unique traits and differences without fear or hesitation.
Preview photo credit rada.viic / TikTok, rada.viic / Instagram
MY DAD IS REFUSING TO PAY FOR MY WEDDING.
The ornate wedding invitation lay discarded on the floor, its delicate calligraphy mocking me. My father, sitting opposite me at the kitchen table, avoided my gaze, stirring his coffee with a grim determination.
“Dad,” I began, my voice trembling, “I don’t understand. Why won’t you help with the wedding?”
He sighed, a heavy weight settling on his shoulders. “Look, sweetheart, I understand this is important to you. But things are tight right now. I… I simply don’t have the funds.”
“But you paid for Sarah’s wedding,” I countered, my voice rising. “You even gave them a down payment on their house!”
He looked up, his eyes avoiding mine. “Things were different then. I had just gotten a promotion…”
“That’s not fair, Dad!” I exclaimed, my voice cracking. “I’m your daughter too! You promised to help with my wedding.”
He looked away, his face etched with a mixture of guilt and frustration. “I know, I know. But things have changed. I’ve had some unexpected medical expenses…”
Unexpected medical expenses? That seemed to be his excuse for everything these days. My father, a man who had always prided himself on his financial stability, was suddenly plagued by a series of unforeseen calamities.
“But Dad,” I pleaded, “this is my wedding. I’ve been planning this for years. I’ve already booked the venue, sent out invitations…”
He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and helplessness. “I know, sweetheart. I know. But I just can’t.”
The weight of his words hit me like a physical blow. I felt betrayed, abandoned. My dream wedding, the culmination of years of planning and anticipation, was slipping through my fingers.
Tears welled up in my eyes. “Fine,” I said, my voice trembling. “If you won’t help, then I’ll figure it out myself.”
I stormed out of the house, the sound of his sigh echoing in my ears. I felt alone, abandoned, and utterly heartbroken. How could he do this to me? After all the years of sacrifices, all the love and support I had given him, he was abandoning me in my time of need.
The following days were a blur of frantic phone calls, desperate budget cuts, and agonizing decisions. I had to scale back the guest list, eliminate the live band, and compromise on every detail of my dream wedding. The joy I had anticipated was replaced by a gnawing sense of resentment and disappointment.
But I refused to let my father ruin my happiness. I vowed to make this wedding happen, even if it meant going into debt. I worked overtime, picked up extra shifts at the coffee shop, and even sold some of my prized possessions.
The wedding day finally arrived, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. As I walked down the aisle, my father sat in the front row, his face etched with a mixture of pride and regret. I smiled at him, a small, forgiving smile.
The ceremony was beautiful, despite the scaled-down budget. And as I stood at the altar, exchanging vows with the man I loved, I realized that my father’s absence had only made me stronger. It had taught me the importance of independence, of resilience, of relying on myself.
Later, as we danced our first dance, I looked at my husband, his eyes filled with love and admiration. “I did it,” I whispered, “I did it without his help.”
He smiled, pulling me closer. “You always were a fighter,” he said. “I’m so proud of you.”
Looking back, I realized that my father’s refusal to help, while hurtful, had been a blessing in disguise. It had forced me to become stronger, more independent, and more resourceful. It had taught me the true meaning of self-reliance and the importance of believing in myself.
And as I looked into my husband’s eyes, I knew that despite the challenges, we had built a life together, a life that was truly our own.
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