When Mom asked me not to wear the dress of my dreams at MY OWN WEDDING because it might “outshine my sister,” I finally understood my place in her heart. Second. Always second.
I got married to the love of my life, Richard, last month.
It’s been wonderful starting this new chapter together, living in our cozy apartment downtown, and figuring out whose turn it is to do dishes. We had a beautiful ceremony with our closest friends and family surrounding us with love and support.
But the days leading up to my wedding? They were far from the dreamy, magical experience I’d always imagined.
Ever since I was a little girl, I’d dreamed about my wedding day.
I’d close my eyes and picture myself floating down the aisle in a breathtaking dress that made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Not because I was vain, but because isn’t that what every bride deserves to feel on her special day? When the time finally came to choose my dress, I invited my mother, Martha, and my younger sister, Jane, to come with me to the bridal salon.
I was so excited I could barely sleep the night before.
“What about this one?” I asked, twirling in the third dress I’d tried on. It was perfect.
Soft ivory, off-shoulder, with delicate lace detailing that caught the light when I moved. The train was magnificent, flowing behind me like something from a fairy tale.
The bridal consultant clasped her hands together.
“Oh honey, that’s the one. You look stunning.”
I caught my reflection and felt tears spring to my eyes. This was it.
This was my dress.
“What do you think?” I asked, turning to Jane and Mom. Jane jumped up from her seat.
“Lizzie! You look incredible!
Richard is going to pass out when he sees you!”
But Mom?
She sat there, arms crossed over her chest, lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s… a bit much, don’t you think?” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly.
My smile faltered.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe we should find something simpler.” She gestured vaguely toward the racks of dresses. “You don’t want to outshine your sister.”
Did I hear that right?
“Excuse me? Outshine my sister?
At my own wedding?”
I laughed, thinking she must be joking.
The look on her face told me she wasn’t. “Mom, I’m the bride. I’m supposed to be the center of attention.”
She leaned closer, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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