If you see a man with one painted fingernail, here’s what it means

When Elliot Costello and a group of other people visited Cambodia, he had an encounter with a young girl named Thea.

Little did Elliot know that this encounter would have an impact so profound on him that it would help start a movement whose goal is to end sexual abuse against children.

Namely, Thea always had nail polish on her tiny nails. One day, as she and Elliot chatted, she asked to paint one of his nails. He agreed and was happy to speak to the chatty girl, but he then learned that she was once a victim of sexual abuse.

“As she painted one of my nails, I assured her I would always keep it that way to remember her, and by extension, her suffering,” Elliot said.

This motivated Elliot to try and make positive change among men so that less and less children fall victims of sexual abuse.

That is when he came up with the movement called #PolishedMan where men put nail polish on one of their nails. That one nail represents the one in five children who will be victims of sexual violence.

Polished Man works towards ending sexual violence against children. According to the organization, “being a Polished Man means challenging violent behavior and language, both locally and globally.”

Elliot believes that since men are responsible for 96% of this type of violence against children globally, they should be catalyst for change if we are ever to see an end to the abuse of innocent children.

The goal with the painted nail isn’t just to remind people of the number of children who are abused every single day, but to serve as a conversation starter about this reality, leading to new ideas about prevention. He also hopes that people will start donating to “support educational programs and resources for child survivors of abuse,” as per APlus.

We hope that more men, including celebrities would be willing to join this movement.

My SIL Thought She Could Control My Kids at Her Halloween Party — Here’s What Happened

When my rich sister-in-law saw us in matching Superman costumes at her fancy Halloween party, she kicked my family out to “avoid confusion.” What she didn’t realize was that her mean move would lead to an unforgettable revenge in her fancy neighborhood.

I’m not usually a petty person, but sometimes life gives you chances for revenge that are too good to ignore.

Source: Midjourney

Looking back, I should have guessed something was off when my mother-in-law’s eyes lit up at our Superman costumes in the store that day.

“Oh, how creative,” she said, smiling as brightly as her recent Botox treatment would allow. “The boys must be thrilled.”

She touched the fabric of Jake’s cape with her perfectly manicured nails, her nose wrinkling a little. “Though maybe something more… sophisticated would suit Isla’s Halloween party better?”

I barely held back a sigh. This was typical Brenda, always finding something to criticize about Dan and me.

Source: Midjourney

When we started dating, I didn’t know my husband Dan came from a wealthy family. He chose to open an auto repair shop instead of joining the family finance firm, which made him the black sheep.

His family didn’t approve of me at first. Honestly, I didn’t approve of them either, with their snobby attitudes and complicated social rules. But I learned to deal with it after Dan and I got married.

“The boys picked the costumes themselves,” I told Brenda that day, straightening my back. “And they are so excited about it. The kids’ happiness is what matters, right?”

“Mmm,” she hummed, her usual look of disappointment crossing her face. “Well, I suppose that’s… sweet.”

I forced a smile. “It is. You should have seen how excited Tommy was when he suggested it.”

It was my oldest boy’s idea to dress as a Superman family. He burst into the kitchen after school, backpack bouncing against his shoulders, eyes bright with excitement.

Source: Midjourney

Dan walked in just then, grease still on his cheek from working on a car. “That’s actually perfect, buddy. What do you think, Marcia?”

“Can we, Mom? Please?” Jake chimed in, bouncing on his toes. “We could be the strongest family ever!”

I agreed right away. The boys’ excitement was contagious, and we really needed some family fun after months of dealing with snide comments about our “quaint” lifestyle and Dan’s job.

Just last week, Isla had commented at dinner about how brave I was to shop at regular stores instead of her favorite boutiques.

Source: Midjourney

And you know what Dan’s father said when he opened his fourth location? “At least you’re consistent in your choices, son.”

So, yes, we were craving a little joy.

On the night of Isla’s Halloween party, the boys were practically bouncing with excitement, their red capes fluttering in the fall breeze. Professionally carved pumpkins lined the driveway, each one probably costing more than our whole Halloween budget.

“Look at all the decorations!” Jake gasped, pointing at the elaborate display. “They even have fog machines!”

“And look at those skeletons at the guesthouse!” Tommy added, eyes wide at the fancy landscaping.

Source: Midjourney

That’s when I saw Isla at the top of the marble steps in a matching but clearly designer Superwoman costume. Her husband Roger wore a movie-quality Superman suit, and their son was dressed the same way.

Their costumes caught the light beautifully, and Isla’s cape seemed to float perfectly as she walked down to meet us.

My stomach dropped. I could feel Dan tense beside me.

“Oh my,” Isla’s voice dripped with false sweetness as we approached. “What an unfortunate coincidence.” She fixed her perfect hair, the diamond bracelet on her wrist sparkling. “Though I must say, the resemblance between our costumes is rather… loose.”

“Isla—” Dan started, his jaw tight.

“You see,” she cut him off, waving her hand at the guests behind her, “we simply can’t have two Superman families at the party. It would confuse everyone.”

Source: Midjourney

Her perfect red lips curved into a sly smile. “You’ll either need to go home and change, wear something from our spare clothes, or…” She waved dismissively. “Leave.”

Roger stood behind her, trying to hide his smirk behind a champagne glass. Their son, Maxwell, looked at my boys with that same superior expression I often saw on Isla’s face.

I felt Tommy’s small hand slip into mine, shaking slightly. Jake pressed against Dan’s leg, his earlier excitement fading fast. That’s when something in me snapped.

Eight years of subtle insults, watching my husband’s success being ignored, and seeing my kids’ joy dimmed by their aunt’s need to be superior all came together in that moment.

“Actually,” I said, squeezing Tommy’s hand and filling my voice with enthusiasm, “we’re going on an adventure instead. Right, boys?”

Source: Midjourney

“But Mom—” Jake started, his lip quivering.

“Trust me,” I said over my shoulder.

“This will be way better than a stuffy party. How does the Halloween festival downtown sound? I heard they have a bouncy house shaped like a haunted castle.”

Dan caught my eye, and I saw the same fire in him that I felt. He wrapped his arm around Jake’s shoulders. “Your mom’s right. Who wants to hit the festival? I bet they have better candy than Aunt Isla’s fancy party.”

“Really?” Tommy’s eyes lit up. “Can we get our faces painted?”

Source: Midjourney

“Absolutely,” Dan grinned. “We can get whatever you want.”

The festival turned out to be amazing. We played games, got our faces painted like superheroes, and took a ton of photos. Tommy won a giant stuffed bat at the ring toss, and Jake managed to bob for three apples in a row.

Dan treated us all to hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, and we watched a local theater group perform spooky skits.

“This is way better than Aunt Isla’s party,” Jake declared, chocolate smeared across his chin. “Way, way better.”

Source: Midjourney

The next day, my phone rang.

It was Julia, who catered Isla’s party. We had become friends over the years, bonding over our shared status as “outsiders” in the Preston social scene.

“Marcia, you won’t believe what I overheard,” she said, her voice full of anger. “Isla was bragging about the whole thing. She bought those costumes just to kick you out!”

“What?” I gripped the phone tighter, sinking onto the couch.

“She told Roger, and I quote, ‘Finally, I put that brat and her little brats in their place.’ And he laughed! Called you guys a ‘discount superhero act.’” Julia paused, disgust clear in her tone. “There’s more.”

I sighed. “Tell me.”

“Isla called you a circus act and said, ‘At least now everyone knows where they stand in this family.’”

Everything clicked into place.

My mother-in-law’s reaction to our costumes, the whole setup, and the humiliation had been a planned attack on my family, using my kids’ joy against us.

“Thanks, Julia,” I said quietly, my mind racing with ideas. “I appreciate you telling me. Isla is not getting away with this.”

Two days later, I stood in front of the billboard I had rented across from Isla’s estate. Our family photo from the festival shone down on the street, showing us in our “discount” costumes, faces painted and full of joy.

The best part was the text above it: “The Real Super Family: No Villains Allowed.”

The town gossip spread fast. Texts and calls flooded in, some subtle, others openly delighted about Isla’s costume scheme backfiring. Memes started circulating on social media.

Source: Midjourney

Even Roger’s mother called it “deliciously fitting” at her weekly bridge club. The local coffee shop began serving a “Super Family Special” of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.

That evening, Dan found me in the kitchen, looking at my phone as another supportive message came through. This one was from his father’s secretary.

“You know,” he said, grinning with a sparkle in his eyes, “I’ve never been prouder to be married to a superhero.”

I leaned back against him, watching Tommy and Jake play superheroes in the backyard through the window. “Someone had to stand up to the villains.”

“Mom! Dad!” Tommy called from outside. “Come play with us! I’m Superman, and Jake’s Spider-Man now!”

“That’s not how it works!” Jake protested. “We can’t mix superhero worlds.”

“We can in our family,” Tommy declared. “We make our own rules!”

We joined our boys in the yard, capes flying, our laughter ringing off the fence.

At that moment, I realized something important: Isla might have fancy costumes and a big house, but we had a family that was truly super, not just playing dress-up.

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