A Woman Was Born With a Lock of Hair in the Middle of Her Forehead and Doesn’t Mind the Hateful Comments

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 / TikTokrada.viic / Instagram

Boy Decorates the House of a Lonely Old Lady for Halloween to Convince Her That the Holiday Is Worth Celebrating

Halloween was his favorite day of the year—a day when you could become anyone you wanted, and the world transformed into something magical.

As Kevin wandered down the street, he admired the glowing decorations and spooky scenes set up in each yard. Witches cackled, doors creaked, and the sounds of Halloween filled the air. But one house stood out, not because it was spooky, but because it was completely dark. No pumpkins, no cobwebs—nothing. It was Mrs. Kimbly’s house.

Mrs. Kimbly was the quiet, older woman who lived alone. Kevin had mowed her lawn in the summer and shoveled her driveway in the winter, but she rarely said much beyond handing him his payment. Now, her undecorated house seemed out of place in the festive neighborhood.

Why hadn’t Mrs. Kimbly decorated for Halloween? Kevin couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Halloween was supposed to be fun, and he didn’t think anyone—especially someone living alone—should miss out.

Determined to help, Kevin crossed the street to her house. Leaves crunched under his sneakers as he approached her front door. He hesitated for a moment, then knocked. After a long pause, the door creaked open, revealing Mrs. Kimbly. Her face was stern, her eyes narrowed behind thick glasses.

“What do you want, Kevin?” she asked, her voice gruff.

Kevin swallowed nervously. “Hi, Mrs. Kimbly. I noticed your house isn’t decorated for Halloween, and I thought maybe you forgot. I could help, if you’d like.”

Her expression hardened. “I didn’t forget,” she snapped. “I don’t need decorations, and I don’t need your help. Now, go away.” She moved to close the door.

Kevin’s heart sank, but he wasn’t ready to give up. “I could do it for free!” he blurted out. “You wouldn’t have to do anything.”

But Mrs. Kimbly scowled and slammed the door. Kevin stood there, stunned. How could anyone hate Halloween that much? He knew her house would likely become a target for pranks if it stayed undecorated, and he didn’t want that to happen.

As Kevin walked home, an idea began to form. He wasn’t ready to give up on Mrs. Kimbly just yet.

At home, Kevin found his mom stirring a pot of soup in the kitchen. “Mom, something strange happened,” he said, sitting down at the table. He explained about Mrs. Kimbly’s dark house and how she had slammed the door in his face.

But when he mentioned Mrs. Kimbly’s name, his mom’s expression softened. “Maybe you should leave her alone,” she suggested gently. “People sometimes have reasons for doing things we don’t understand.”

Kevin frowned. “But, Mom, I think she’s not mad—I think she’s sad. Halloween is supposed to be fun, and I don’t want anyone to feel left out.”

His mom smiled softly. “You have a big heart, Kevin. Just remember, some people aren’t ready for help, even if they need it.”

Her words lingered in his mind, but Kevin still felt like Mrs. Kimbly was just lonely. He was determined to make her Halloween special.

The next day, Kevin gathered every decoration he could find—twinkling lights, plastic spiders, and his favorite carved pumpkin. It was special to him, but if it could make Mrs. Kimbly smile, he was willing to part with it.

He loaded everything into a wagon and headed back to her house. Kevin worked quickly, hanging lights and placing pumpkins on her porch. The house was starting to come alive with Halloween spirit. Just as he finished arranging the last pumpkin, the door flew open.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mrs. Kimbly stormed out, her face red with anger. “I told you not to decorate my house!”

Kevin froze, his heart pounding. “I just wanted to help,” he said softly. “It’s Halloween…”

Before he could say more, Mrs. Kimbly grabbed the nearest pumpkin—the one Kevin had spent hours carving—and smashed it on the ground. It shattered into pieces across the porch.

Kevin blinked back tears as he stared at the ruined pumpkin. He had worked so hard on it, and now it was gone. Without a word, he turned and ran home.

That night, dressed in his vampire costume, Kevin couldn’t enjoy Halloween. As he wandered from house to house with his friends, collecting candy, his thoughts kept returning to Mrs. Kimbly’s dark house. He knew the other kids might target her home for pranks, and he didn’t want that to happen.

Determined to stop any trouble, Kevin made his way back to her house. He sat on her porch, handing out candy from his own bag to passing trick-or-treaters, explaining, “Mrs. Kimbly’s not home.” He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there when the front door opened.

Startled, Kevin looked up to see Mrs. Kimbly standing in the doorway. Her face wasn’t angry anymore. “What are you doing here, Kevin?” she asked softly.

“I didn’t want anyone to mess with your house,” he explained. “I thought maybe I could help.”

Mrs. Kimbly sighed and sat down beside him. “I’m sorry for earlier,” she said quietly. “Halloween is hard for me. I don’t have any family, and seeing everyone else celebrate just makes me feel… alone.”

Kevin’s heart ached. “You don’t have to be alone,” he said. “You can celebrate with us. We’d love to have you join in.”

A small smile crept across Mrs. Kimbly’s face. “You’re a kind boy, Kevin. Thank you for what you did. And I’m sorry about your pumpkin.”

“It’s okay,” Kevin said, smiling back. “I have another one at home. We can carve it together if you want.”

Mrs. Kimbly chuckled softly. As Kevin ran home to grab the pumpkin, Mrs. Kimbly felt something she hadn’t felt in years—the warmth of Halloween spirit, all thanks to a boy who refused to give up.

What do you think of this story? Share it with your friends—it might brighten their day too.

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