With the rise of social media, we’re constantly seeing images of perfect-looking people, making the world seem even more focused on appearances.
For those who don’t fit this “perfect” mold, life can be tough, with strangers feeling the need to criticize others based on their looks.
Karine de Souza knows this all too well. The Brazilian woman has a rare skin condition that requires her to cover her skin in SPF100 sunscreen, even when she’s indoors.
At age three, Karine was diagnosed with Xeroderma Pigmentosum, a rare condition that makes her very sensitive to sunlight and puts her at high risk for skin cancer.
This condition, which has no cure, means her skin can’t repair damage from UV rays. Just a few minutes in the sun can lead to very painful sunburns for her. As a child, she had to stay inside most of the time because being outside was too dangerous.
She explains, “I don’t feel anything right away when I’m in the sun, but later on, I get painful lesions that need to be removed because of cancer.”
Karine has had 130 surgeries to remove lesions caused by the sun, including parts of her lower lip and nose.
But her challenges go beyond physical pain. She often gets stared at and has faced verbal abuse both in person and online.
Despite all this, Karine stays positive and happy. She even found love with her husband, Edmilson, whom she met through social media. Edmilson was drawn to her story and strength, and he’s always been by her side, knowing he wanted to spend his life with her.
He also decided to embrace Karine’s three children from her previous relationship, which of course, meant a lot to Karine.
”He came and he showed me that I could live a true love story”, she says.
But after posting photos of them together online, Karine was once again exposed to a whole host of offensive comments.
”We have already read many offensive comments calling me a monster, deformed, a zombie,” Karine said, as per the Daily Mail.
Other comments suggested that their relationship wasn’t genuine and that Karine was a ”sugar mommy,” and that she must be very rich.
”Because of the fact he’s a young man and pretty, that caught people’s attention and they didn’t believe that he was with me because he really liked me,” Karine said.
A photographer who captured the couple after they got engaged posted a selection of the images online and wrote:
”In a world where appearance matters more than the feeling, they met not by chance, but by a gathering of souls, an encounter of acceptance and character and love emerged when their souls met and today you are the inspiration to so many people who do not believe in themselves, in life and especially in love.
“THANK YOU every day for being who you are. STOP complaining for being like you are. HUG LIFE, and accept yourself. Much gratitude for teaching me so much. You guys are AMAZING. You are the missing hope in so many people. Thank you for the big hug, and for the wonderful day we experienced together. I carry your smile with me forever.”
His heartfelt words and beautiful images he captured of Karine and Edmilson went viral, and thousands of people commented, congratulating the couple.
Karine wants others to realize the importance of being positive.
”Be happy, smile, because life happens only once,” she said.
In 2023, Karine and Edmílson welcomed a baby girl into the world, and they couldn’t be happier! Their daughter, Zaia, was long awaited – Karine and her husband had been trying for a baby since 2020.
Karine has been through so much but thanks to her positive attitude she has found the happiness she deserves.
Her story is inspirational so help us inspire others in similar situations by sharing this story with your friends and family.
My Stepmom Gifted Me a Funerary Urn for My 17th Birthday
I always knew my stepmom, Monica, wasn’t exactly the nicest person—annoying, yes, but not evil. She was the type who would talk over me, forget my birthday, and call me “kiddo” even though I was practically an adult.
But what she did on my 17th birthday? It was the final straw.
It all started after my mom, Sarah, passed away when I was ten. After that, it was just me and Dad. We were a team—movie nights, pizza dinners, and a mutual understanding that we had each other’s backs, always.
Then Monica came along about three years ago. She wasn’t the worst, just kind of… there. She moved in, slowly took over the bathroom with her endless beauty products, and managed to inch her way into Dad’s life, whether I liked it or not.
Monica had dreams—big dreams—of opening a hair salon. I didn’t have a problem with people having dreams, but I had my own, too, and she treated me like I was an inconvenience that came with the house.
But I had a plan. College was my way out, and Dad had promised me from the time I was little that there was a college fund waiting for me. “Your mom and I set it up when you were five, Lila,” he’d say. “It’s all there, and I add to it every year.”
So, I worked hard in school, counting down the days until I could leave for college and start a life of my own.
On the morning of my 17th birthday, I wasn’t expecting much. Maybe some pancakes, a card—Dad was at work, so it was just Monica and me. But when Monica handed me a gift bag, things took a weird turn.
Inside the bag was a pink funerary urn. Yes, you read that right. An urn.
I stared at it, completely confused. “What the hell is this?” I asked.
Monica leaned against the kitchen counter, a smug look on her face. “It’s symbolic,” she said as if that explained anything.
“Symbolic of what?” I asked, already feeling a sinking feeling in my stomach.
Monica smiled wider. “It’s time to bury your college dreams, kiddo. Your dad and I decided to put that fund to better use.”
“Better use?” I repeated, my heart racing.
“Yep. We used it to help me open my salon. College is a gamble, Lila. But a business? That’s a real investment.”
I was frozen. Had they really taken my future, my college fund, and sunk it into Monica’s dream? How could my dad have let this happen?
“Life’s full of disappointments,” she added, as if that was supposed to be comforting.
I ran upstairs and slammed my door, sobbing harder than I ever had. Everything I’d worked for, everything my mom had wanted for me, was gone.
For the next few days, I barely spoke to either of them. Monica pranced around like she owned the house while I sat with the urn on my desk, a twisted reminder of what I had lost.
Then, a few days later, something strange happened.
When I got home from school, there was a note on my desk in Monica’s messy handwriting: Meet me at the salon at 6 P.M. tonight. No questions. Just trust me.
I almost laughed. Trust her? After what she did?
But my curiosity got the better of me, and against my better judgment, I went.
When I arrived at the salon, the lights were off, but the door was unlocked. Hesitant, I stepped inside. There, in the middle of the room, were Monica and my dad, both grinning.
“Surprise!” Monica shouted.
I was speechless.
“Look,” Monica said, stepping aside to reveal a shiny new sign on the wall: Dream Cuts: A Scholarship Fund in Honor of Sarah.
“What is this?” I asked, completely lost.
Monica’s smile softened. “We didn’t use your college fund, Lila. It’s all still there. The salon isn’t just for me—it’s for you, too. And for others like you. A portion of the profits will go toward funding scholarships in your mom’s name.”
I blinked, feeling like the ground was shifting beneath my feet.
“But… why make me think otherwise?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around it.
Monica winced. “Yeah, the urn thing… That was not my best idea. I thought it would be motivational, like burying the past and embracing the future. Turns out, it was just creepy.”
Dad stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve been planning this for months. Your mom always wanted to help kids get to college. This way, her dream lives on.”
I stood there, stunned, my anger melting into something softer.
Monica looked at me earnestly. “I’m not trying to replace your mom, Lila. I just want to build something meaningful, something that helps you and others. I know I haven’t been the best stepmom, but I hope this can be a fresh start.”
For the first time in a long time, I smiled.
It wasn’t perfect, and maybe things with Monica never would be. But in that moment, standing in a salon named for my mom, I realized she wasn’t trying to destroy my future—she was trying to honor it in a way I hadn’t expected.
And yeah, I kept the urn. I planted peace lilies in it. Maybe it wasn’t the symbol Monica had intended, but it had become something new. A symbol of hope.
What would you have done in my shoes?
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