A woman who tattooed her boyfriend’s name on her forehead is defending her face art, suggesting that anyone who refuses to do the same, isn’t really in love.
Ana Stanskovsky, who penned a permanent love letter to Kevin on her face, insists it’s an expression of love, but online users are saying “it’s stupid” and that her “next boyfriend will hate it.”
Polish-born Ana Stanskovsky surprised her 588,000 TikTok followers by sharing a post of her newly transformed face.
In a viral TikTok clip, Stanskovsky is seen sitting in a chair, having some work done to her forehead.
The “my new face tattoo” video, which has 18.3 million views since it was first shared November 6, shows Stanskovsky getting her boyfriend’s name, penned in large black cursive letters, across her forehead.
The clip zooms in on the artist permanently inking over the stencil that reads “Kevin,” and Stanskovsky wincing in pain.
When the art is complete, she stands up to view her extreme expressions of love in the mirror
“Done? Okay let’s see. Oh my God, I love it. Wow, Kevin’s gonna love it,” she says.
She finished the clip by asking her followers “Do you think he will like it?”
Responding to her question, one netizen jokes, “He’ll love it! Your next boyfriend will hate it though.” Another user writes, “I don’t know who Kevin is, but wherever you are…. Run!”
As the video hits the eyes of the puzzled social community, people are warning her of future regrets.
“Great decision here. I don’t see how you could ever regret this,” one fan shares.
Replying to the overwhelming suggestions of regret, Stanskovsky fired back with another clip saying she will never regret the Kevin tattoo.
Stanskvosky replies, “I know many of you said I’m gonna regret that and what if we break up and all of this stuff, all of this horrible stuff and I just wanna say this is how I’m expressing my feelings so if I love someone, I’m doing this.” She continues, “I’m loving it, I’m definitely never gonna regret that. How can I regret this? It’s beautiful.”
“A handwritten note is a precious way to express your feelings,” quips one cyber citizen.
Fans still aren’t convinced, and many think her outrageous announcement of love must be a joke.
“Wait. Wasn’t it a joke?” writes one while another says, “I was waiting for them to say it’s just a prank but they never did.”
The influencer then tells viewers that every time she looks in the mirror she is “in love.”
“I’m in love with the tattoo and I’m in love with my boyfriend,” she said. “I think if you really love someone, you’ve just got to show it you know, you’ve just got to prove it…So I think if your girlfriend doesn’t want to tattoo your name on her face, you just need to find yourself a new girlfriend because I don’t think she loves you.”
Shocked by her comment, users jumped in saying she needs to reconsider her shows of love.
“‘if [your] girlfriend doesn’t want your name on the forehead she doesn’t love you,’” One netizen writes, quoting her. Then offering this advice to Kevin, the user continues, “dump her ASAP.”
Given the uncertainty of relationships, one netizen asks, “and if he breaks up with you what then?”
Stanskovsky answers: “What if we break up? I’ll just have to find myself a different Kevin.”
But one person has a better idea: “It would be better if you wrote on it that I am stupid.”
At the moment there’s been no response from Kevin.
What do you think of this woman getting her boyfriend’s name tattooed across her forehead?
There are far better ways of expressing your love, and if you insist on a grand gesture, maybe a smaller tattoo in a place it’s not so visible?
My Best Friend Disappeared After I Watched Her Kids—The Shocking Truth Revealed!
My name is Melanie, and I want to share the most important day of my life. I had just returned home after a long and tiring day at work.
My best friend asked me to watch her kids for just one hour while she ran an errand. I said yes without thinking too much about it. She was in a hurry, and I didn’t want to let her down.
As time went by, I noticed that my friend was taking longer than expected. I tried calling her, but there was no answer. I started to worry. After a while, I realized something was really wrong.
I ended up calling the police to file a missing person report. They took my concerns seriously and began looking for her. While they searched, I took care of her children as if they were my own. I fed them, played with them, and tucked them in at night.
All I wanted was to relax with a glass of wine and enjoy a silly romantic comedy. You know, the kind of movie where you don’t have to think too hard, just laugh at the easy-to-predict story and shed a few tears at the happy ending.
But life, as it often does, had different plans.
I was just about to hit play when there was a knock at the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I paused, looking through the peephole.
To my surprise, it was Christina, my best friend. And she wasn’t alone. She had her two kids, Dylan, who was five, and baby Mike, only two months old, wrapped up in her arms.
“Melanie, I need your help,” she said, her voice shaky. “I have to see a doctor right away. Can you watch the boys for an hour? Just an hour, I promise.”
Chris looked worried, and honestly, it scared me. She was usually the strong one, the one who had everything under control. Seeing her like this, so vulnerable, was shocking.
I felt a knot in my stomach, but I couldn’t say no to her. How could I?
“Of course, Chris,” I said, trying to sound more sure than I felt. “Come in, let’s get you sorted.”
She handed me baby Mike and kissed Dylan on the forehead.
“I’ll be back soon,” she said, her eyes wide with an urgency I’d never seen before. And then she was gone, leaving me with two kids and a head full of questions.
That hour turned into two. Then three. Night came, and Chris still hadn’t returned.
I called her phone many times, but it went straight to voicemail. My worry grew into full-blown panic. I put the boys to bed, trying to hide my fear from them.
Days went by with no word from Chris. I filed a missing person report, hoping the police could find her quickly. In the meantime, I was left to care for Dylan and Mike. I told myself it was temporary. Just until Chris came back.
But she didn’t come back. Weeks turned into months, and the boys started to feel more like my own kids than Chris’s. They began calling me “Mom,” a habit that started naturally and felt strangely right.
The first time Dylan called me Mom was at his school’s parent-teacher meeting. He ran up to his friends and proudly introduced me, “This is my mom!”
My heart nearly burst. I knew then that I couldn’t just be their temporary guardian anymore.
They needed stability, a real home, and someone who would be there for them always. So, I began the legal process to adopt them. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it.
Mike’s first steps were a joyful celebration, a moment of pure happiness that we shared. Dylan’s first soccer game, where he scored a goal and ran to me shouting, “Did you see that, Mom? Did you see?”
Those moments brought us together as a family.
Fast forward seven years, and we went to a seaside town for vacation.
The ocean breeze felt refreshing, and the boys were laughing, carefree and happy. We walked along the shore, collecting shells and splashing in the waves. It was perfect.
Then, out of nowhere, Dylan stopped. He pointed to a woman in the crowd.
“Is that her?” he asked, his voice trembling. I followed his gaze and felt my heart stop. It was Chris. Older and worn, but still Chris.
“Yes, it is,” I whispered, unable to believe my eyes.
Dylan didn’t wait.
He took off running toward her, leaving Mike and me standing in the sand, our breaths caught in our throats. My heart raced as I watched my son sprint toward the woman who had left him so long ago.
“Why did you leave us?” Dylan shouted, his voice rising over the sound of the waves. “Do you know what you did? We waited for you! Mom waited for you!”
The woman turned, eyes wide with shock, but then her expression hardened.
“You must have me confused with someone else,” she said, her voice flat and cold. “I’m not who you think I am.”
Dylan stood his ground, tears streaming down his face. “LIAR! I DON’T CARE
He turned then and pointed at me, his eyes filled with fierce protectiveness that made my heart ache.
I walked over, holding Mike close.
“Chris, would you say something, please? We deserve to know what happened,” I said.
But she turned away, staring at the ocean with a hard expression.
I placed my hand on Dylan’s shoulder.
“Dylan, let’s go,” I said softly, but he shook his head, not finished yet.
“When I grow up,” Dylan continued, his voice breaking but strong, “I’ll make a lot of money and buy my real mom a house and a car and do anything to make her smile! Because she deserves it! And you should spend your life alone!”
With that, he turned away, leaving Chris—or whoever she said she was—standing there, shocked and silent.
We left the beach quietly, the weight of the meeting heavy on us. The boys were silent, their usual chatter replaced by the heavy silence of unresolved feelings.
There was no cheering the boys up as we went to the hotel to check in. It took a while, but we finally headed to our room.
I was relieved to get away from the beach, but the sight that greeted us wasn’t comforting.
The bathroom was a mess, clearly untouched by the cleaning staff.
“Just what we need,” I muttered under my breath. I picked up the phone and called the front desk. “Hi, we just checked into room 212, and the bathroom hasn’t been cleaned. Can you send someone up, please?”
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find a cleaning lady standing there, her head down, face hidden by a worn-out cap.
“Come in,” I said, stepping aside.
She moved slowly, carefully, and something about her seemed familiar.
When she finally looked up, I gasped. It was Chris again!
“You have to be kidding me!” I yelped.
“What are you doing here?” Dylan asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and anger. “Are you following us?”
Chris—or Alice, as her name tag read—looked like she was about to collapse.
“I… I work here. I came to clean the bathroom,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But now… I’m sorry, Melanie. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“I was desperate when I came to you that day,” she continued, tears streaming down her face. “I had fallen into a really dark place, and I just… I couldn’t take care of two kids.”
“Then you should’ve asked for help,” I snapped. “I would’ve done anything I could…”
My voice trailed off as I stared into Chris’s eyes. The truth hit me hard: The woman I’d always thought was so strong had been struggling in secret, unwilling or unable to ask for help.
Her leaving the boys with me was the most she could do. It was her last, desperate attempt to save her children and herself. And it broke my heart.
“It never had to be this way, Chris.”
“There was no other choice,” she replied, her voice full of regret.
Dylan’s face hardened, and he stepped in between Chris and me. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dollar, pressing it into Chris’s hand.
“Don’t worry about the bathroom,” he said coldly. “We will clean it ourselves.”
Chris stood there, tears welling up in her eyes, as Dylan shut the door in her face. He then turned to me, and I pulled him into a tight hug.
I held my boys close, comforting them as best I could. Part of me was grateful we had seen Chris. We finally had some closure on why she did what she did, even if Dylan and Mike were too young to understand.
“Can we go home, Mom?” Dylan asked. “I don’t want to see her again.”
We left within the hour.
Back home, life slowly returned to normal. The meeting with Chris became a past chapter, something we had faced and moved on from.
We had survived abandonment, heartache, and uncertainty, but we had come out stronger and more united than ever. Our family was a testament to the power of love and strength, and as I watched my boys play, I knew we could face anything together.
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