Some things in life are just universal among women, and one of them is sheer, unwavering stubbornness—especially when it comes to everyday habits, beauty routines, and personal quirks. If you’re a girl, you’ll instantly relate to these little signs of determination that seem to be built into your DNA. And yes, if you’ve ever used a lipstick down to the very last possible swipe (like the image above suggests), then you definitely know what we’re talking about!
The Lipstick That Refuses to Die
Let’s start with the most iconic form of stubbornness: refusing to throw away a lipstick, no matter how tiny it gets. That little plastic casing at the bottom? Yeah, there’s still product in there, and you will dig it out with your fingernail, a brush, or even a bobby pin before declaring it finished. Why? Because every last bit of that shade is precious.
Men might not understand, but every girl knows that finding the perfect lipstick color is rare. Once you find the one, there’s no way you’re letting a single speck go to waste.
Wearing Heels Even When It Feels Like Foot Torture
Blisters? Sore arches? Toes screaming in agony? None of it matters when those heels make your outfit look 🔥. Every girl has had at least one night where she’s powered through the pain because she refused to let discomfort win. The stubbornness to “make it work” leads to countless nights of wobbling, carrying flats in a purse just in case, and even using band-aids as a desperate attempt to keep going.
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And let’s be honest—when someone asks, “Are you okay?” while you’re limping, the automatic response is always, “I’m fine.”
Holding On to That One Bra That Has Seen Better Days
You know the one—the straps are barely hanging on, the underwire is poking through (but somehow, it doesn’t hurt that much), and it has stretched out beyond recognition. Yet, it’s the comfiest bra you own, and you refuse to part with it.
Sure, you have newer, fancier ones sitting in your drawer, but nothing feels quite as right as this well-worn, slightly battle-scarred piece of lingerie.
Convincing Yourself You Can Carry Everything in One Trip
Why make two trips when you can nearly break your arms trying to carry it all at once? Whether it’s bringing in grocery bags, carrying a pile of laundry, or juggling way too many shopping bags, there’s something about making one epic trip that feels like a personal achievement.
Does it matter if your fingers are turning purple from the weight? Nope. Does it matter if you drop half of it and have to go back anyway? Still no. It’s the principle of it all.
“I Don’t Need a Jacket” – Famous Last Words
How many times has someone told you to bring a jacket, and you confidently said, “No, I’ll be fine,” only to spend the next few hours freezing and regretting every life decision? But instead of admitting defeat, you’ll cross your arms, shiver in silence, and pretend you’re not cold.
Borrowing someone else’s jacket? That’s an option—but stubbornness wins every time.
Not Washing Your Hair Because “It Still Looks Fine”
Dry shampoo exists for a reason, and girls have mastered the art of stretching a hair wash as long as possible. Day three? It’s still fine. Day four? Maybe a ponytail. Day five? A messy bun totally counts as a hairstyle.
It’s not laziness—it’s about preserving the natural oils and making sure you don’t strip your hair of its moisture… or at least, that’s what we tell ourselves.
Refusing to Ask for Help Until It’s Absolutely Necessary
Whether it’s assembling furniture, opening a jar, or lifting something heavy, there’s a certain level of stubborn pride in trying to do it alone first. The jar lid might require 10 minutes of struggling and gritted teeth, but victory tastes sweeter when you finally pop it open without assistance.
And if someone offers to help? The automatic response is, “I got it.”
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Keeping Clothes You Haven’t Worn in Years – Just in Case
That dress from five years ago that you might need for a special occasion? The jeans that haven’t fit in ages but could fit again one day? Every girl has a closet full of “just in case” outfits that never actually get worn—but getting rid of them? Impossible.
Because the moment you do, you’ll suddenly find the perfect occasion where you wish you still had it. And that’s a regret no one wants.
Using Every Last Drop of a Beauty Product
It doesn’t matter if squeezing out that last bit of foundation requires full upper-body strength or if your mascara is practically dry—you paid for it, so you’re using it to the bitter end. Cutting open lotion bottles, scooping out the last remains of a face cream, or even adding a little water to shampoo just to make it last longer? Classic signs of beauty-product stubbornness.
Final Thoughts
Stubbornness isn’t just a personality trait—it’s a survival skill. From refusing to waste a single swipe of lipstick to convincing ourselves we don’t need a jacket, every girl has her own set of determined quirks. It’s not about being difficult; it’s about maximizing what we have, standing our ground, and proving (mostly to ourselves) that we can make it work.
Because at the end of the day, being a little stubborn just makes life more interesting.
My Brother’s Fiancée Demanded Our Family’s Inheritance for Her Kids — I Said Yes, Then Asked One Question That Shut Her Down
They say money shows people’s true colors. When my brother’s fiancée demanded our family inheritance for her kids, I played along just long enough to ask one simple question. The silence that followed said everything we needed to know.
Growing up, Noah and I were inseparable despite our six-year age gap. He was my protector, my confidant, and the person who taught me how to ride a bike and stand up to bullies.
Two children standing in a park | Source: Pexels
Even as adults, we made time for weekly coffee dates and never missed celebrating each other’s birthdays. Our bond was unbreakable… until Vanessa entered the picture.
When Noah first introduced Vanessa to our family two years ago, I tried to be happy for him. She was attractive, articulate, and seemed to make my brother smile in a way I hadn’t seen before.
A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
Her two children from a previous relationship, a sweet six-year-old girl and her energetic eight-year-old brother, were well-behaved during that first visit. Mom and Dad welcomed them warmly, making sure there were kid-friendly snacks and activities.
“Amelia, I really like her,” Noah confessed to me after that initial meeting. “I think she might be the one.”
I hugged him and said all the right things, but something felt off. I couldn’t pinpoint it exactly. It was just the small moments that made me pause.
A close-up shot of a woman’s eye | Source: Midjourney
For instance, the way Vanessa smiled was strange when our parents talked about family traditions. The way she looked at our mom’s antique jewelry collection sent a shiver down my spine.
Moreover, she even casually asked about our grandparents’ lake house during the very first dinner.
“She just needs time to adjust,” Noah would say whenever I gently pointed out these moments. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was being overprotective.
Months passed, and Noah proposed.
A ring in a box | Source: Pexels
Everyone played their part well.
Mom helped with wedding plans, Dad talked about booking the country club for the reception, and I agreed to be Vanessa’s bridesmaid. We maintained polite conversation during family gatherings, but there remained an invisible wall between Vanessa and the rest of us. No hostility, just… distance.
“What do you think about Vanessa’s kids?” my mom asked me privately one day, folding laundry in the bedroom I’d grown up in.
“They’re good kids,” I replied honestly. “Why?”
Mom hesitated. “Noah mentioned they’ve been calling him ‘Daddy’ already. He seemed uncomfortable about it.”
An older woman standing in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney
I raised my eyebrows. “Did Vanessa encourage that?”
“He didn’t say,” Mom sighed. “I just hope he knows what he’s getting into.”
The wedding planning continued despite the subtle undercurrent of tension. Noah seemed happy most of the time, though I occasionally caught glimpses of hesitation in his eyes, especially when Vanessa would make casual comments about “joining the family fortune” or how her kids would “finally have the stability they deserve.”
A worried man | Source: Midjourney
Easter Sunday arrived, and Mom invited everyone for dinner. Vanessa came alone because her kids were with their biological father for the holiday weekend.
At first, everything was pleasant. Dad carved the ham, Mom served her famous scalloped potatoes, and Vanessa complimented everything with perfect politeness.
I should have known the peace wouldn’t last. As Mom brought out her homemade apple pie for dessert, I noticed Vanessa straightening in her chair, her eyes narrowing with determination.
An apple pie | Source: Pexels
She placed her napkin on the table with deliberate precision, and I felt a chill run down my spine.
Then, she cleared her throat loudly enough to silence the table. All eyes were on her when she folded her hands in front of her and said something unexpected.
“So, before the wedding, we need to settle something,” she announced. “It’s about the prenup.”
My fork froze midway to my mouth.
Noah’s face dropped instantly. He had clearly hoped she wouldn’t bring this up again, especially not here, not now.
A man sitting at the dining table | Source: Midjourney
“Vanessa,” he whispered, “we agreed to discuss this privately.”
She ignored him and continued.
“I think it’s completely disrespectful that Noah would even suggest a prenup. And what’s worse is that the entire family supports the idea of excluding my kids from his inheritance.” Her eyes narrowed as she glanced around the table. “Do you seriously expect them to just get nothing? That’s disgusting.”
My dad stayed quiet, pushing food around his plate.
An older man | Source: Midjourney
My mom looked uncomfortable, her eyes darting between Noah and Vanessa. The tension in the room was suffocating.
I took a deep breath and spoke carefully. “Vanessa, your kids aren’t Noah’s biological children. That doesn’t mean we dislike them, but they’re not part of our bloodline inheritance.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes as if I’d said the most ridiculous thing imaginable.
“Are you joking? They’re going to be his kids! That means they’re family.” She pointed her finger across the table at me. “You people are acting like I’m just some gold digger showing up with strays. They’re his children too now, whether you like it or not.”
Mom flinched at her words.
An older woman looking straight ahead with wide eyes | Source: Midjourney
At that point, I felt anger rising in my chest, but I tried to keep my cool.
“You’re marrying into our family. That makes you our in-law,” I explained patiently. “But inheritance stays with direct descendants. Your kids will be loved, but they’re not heirs.”
Vanessa’s face flushed red. She leaned back, folded her arms across her chest, and said with ice in her voice, “So what, they’re supposed to sit and watch your kids get everything while they get crumbs? That’s not a family. That’s cruelty.”
Noah reached for her hand. “Honey, we’ve talked about this. I’m planning to set up college funds for the kids. They’ll be taken care of.”
A man talking to his fiancée | Source: Midjourney
“College funds?” She yanked her hand away. “While his blood relatives get houses and investments and everything else? That’s not equal treatment.”
My mother finally spoke up, her voice gentle but firm. “Vanessa, dear, we don’t mean to upset you. Family traditions around inheritance are complicated.”
“There’s nothing complicated about it,” Vanessa snapped. “Either you accept my children as full members of this family, with all the privileges that entail, or you don’t. Which is it?”
Dad coughed uncomfortably. “Perhaps this isn’t the best time—”
An older man | Source: Midjourney
“It’s the perfect time,” Vanessa interrupted. “I’m not signing any prenup that treats my children like second-class family members. Period.”
Noah looked miserable, trapped between loyalty to his fiancée and respect for our family traditions. At that point, I realized my brother, the one who had always protected me, now needed someone to protect him.
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
So, I made a split-second decision.
I looked directly at Vanessa and set down my napkin.
“Okay,” I said. “Then let’s make it fair.”
The sudden agreement seemed to catch Vanessa off guard. She raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out why I’d suddenly agreed.
“We’ll consider including your children in the inheritance… if you can answer just one question.”
Children holding hands | Source: Pexels
She smirked like she’d already won, relaxing back into her chair. “Fine. What is it?”
I took a sip of water, making her wait just long enough to feel uncomfortable. Then I asked, “Will your parents, or your ex’s parents, include my future children, or Noah’s biological children, in their inheritance?”
“Excuse me?” she said.
“Just answer. Will your family leave something to our kids?”
“Well… no. Of course not. That’s not how it works.”
“Exactly. That’s not how it works.”
The table fell silent. Mom and Dad exchanged glances. Noah stared down at his plate, but I could see relief washing over him.
A man looking down at his plate | Source: Midjourney
Vanessa flared up instantly. “That’s completely different! Don’t compare that to this. My kids deserve a place in this family!”
“And yet you just said our kids don’t deserve a place in yours,” I replied.
“That’s… that’s not the same thing at all,” she sputtered.
“How is it different?” I asked. “Family is family, right? Isn’t that what you’re arguing?”
She stood up from the table so abruptly that her chair screeched against the floor.
A close-up shot of chairs | Source: Midjourney
She hissed, “Don’t you dare twist my words. My children shouldn’t be treated like second-class. If you people had any decency, this wouldn’t even be a discussion. I’m marrying your brother. That makes everything that is his mine too. And that includes a future in this family.”
“Vanessa, you’re marrying our brother. Not our inheritance,” I said. “Your children are yours to care for and provide for. You don’t get to demand access to things that were never yours to begin with. That’s not love. That’s entitlement.”
At that point, Noah cleared his throat awkwardly. “Maybe we should talk about something else—”
A man smiling while talking | Source: Midjourney
“No,” Vanessa cut him off. “I want to hear what else your sister has to say about my children.”
“I have nothing against your children,” I said softly. “But this conversation isn’t really about them, is it? It’s about what you want.”
Mom stood up and began collecting plates. “Who wants coffee?”
An older woman talking | Source: Midjourney
But the damage was done.
Vanessa muttered under her breath as she sat back down, calling us greedy, selfish, and saying she was “embarrassed to marry into such a cold family.”
Meanwhile, Dad excused himself to help Mom in the kitchen. Once it was only me, Noah, and Vanessa at the table, I said my final words to her.
“Vanessa, we’ve made our boundaries clear. Bring this up again, and the wedding won’t be the only thing we’ll reconsider.”
She didn’t say a word after that.
Three weeks have passed since Easter.
A “Happy Easter” sign | Source: Pexels
Noah called me yesterday to say the wedding date has been pushed back. He mentioned “re-evaluating priorities” and thanked me for standing up for him.
And since that night, not a single word about inheritance has been mentioned again. But I catch Vanessa watching me differently now. She’s cautious around me because she knows I won’t tolerate her unjustified demands anymore.
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