My Parents Skipped My Wedding Because I Married Before My “Perfect” Sister. Now…

The Sister’s Engagement and the Family Backlash

Molen recently got engaged to someone she’s been dating for a year. According to family members I spoke with in family group conversations that I don’t participate in, my parents openly express their excitement about organizing an elaborate wedding for her.

They are already boasting about securing upscale locations and luxury gowns, and my mother is taking Molen to private fittings at upscale stores. All the mother-daughter time I was not allowed.

It’s intriguing that a large number of our family are suddenly refusing to go to Molen’s wedding and engagement party. My parents’ actions at my wedding apparently became a topic of conversation in the family.

I just tell my family members what I think is real when they inquire as to why my parents didn’t attend my wedding.

They couldn’t bear it when I married before their beloved daughter. I present the facts as I perceive them without embellishment or an attempt to win sympathy.

My parents got in touch with me a few days ago and accused me of purposefully attempting to spoil Molen’s wedding. According to their claims, the relatives they have spoken to are using reasons to avoid going to any of her wedding-related festivities.

My cousin, to whom my sister vented, informed her that people are reluctant to come because they have heard about my parents’ treatment of me. My parents claim that because I’m envious of my sister’s impending lavish wedding, I’m spreading false stories.

The problem is that I’m only telling folks the truth about what happened. Perhaps they should consider their conduct instead of blaming me for the results if the truth makes them appear terrible.

As things continue to change, I’m finding it harder and harder to keep up the appearance of a relationship with my parents. Their behavior during my wedding finally made it clear to me that I would never be sufficient for them regardless of what I did.

Their absence at my wedding is no longer the most difficult aspect. It’s coming to terms with the fact that I never had the kind, encouraging parents I always desired.

I’m concentrating on creating a life with someone who genuinely appreciates me for who I am right now. But I’ll keep you updated if anything important changes.

A Face-to-Face Confrontation

First update since my last post, which was two weeks ago. A lot has transpired.

I ultimately made the decision to speak with my parents face-to-face over their actions at my wedding and their current charges that I ruined my sister’s special day. After reading your encouraging remarks, I felt it was time to put everything on the table.

When they began texting me about their tarnished family history, my parents quickly started making accusations during our phone call, saying that I was jealous of Molen and had planned the entire thing.

I did something I had never done before. I agreed with them, but not in the way they had anticipated.

In place of defending myself as I usually would, I said to them: “You’re correct. I’m envious. Not Molen’s career, not her accomplishments, not her appearance.”

“I’m envious of the unwavering love and support you’ve shown her, which you never even made an effort to show me.”

There was a pause in the line. My mother then began claiming that I was exaggerating and that they had always treated us equally.

Something broke inside of me at that moment. Feelings that had been repressed for years came flooding out.

I informed them of each birthday when Molen’s most recent success eclipsed my own accomplishments. When Molen had a modeling callback, my mother canceled my high school graduation dinner.

I talked about how her prom outfit cost more than the total cost of my college textbooks for a year. I continued despite my father’s attempts to cut me off by accusing me of exaggerating.

I talked about how it was to watch them spend years organizing my sister’s fictitious wedding while showing no interest in my own. I told them how painful it was to see my parents’ seats vacant and how my mother-in-law had to help me with everything from wedding preparation to clothing buying.

The Harsh Reality of the Family Facade

Their reaction was instructive. They flipped it on me rather than accepting any of my arguments: “Why did you never speak up if you felt this way?”

As if I hadn’t tried to speak with them for years. My mother insisted.

My father went on to say that by discussing these emotions with our family members, I was being unjust and spiteful. My mother said something at that point that ultimately clarified everything: “We never imagined you’d go to such lengths as to try to ruin Molen’s wedding out of spite, but we always knew you were insecure about her success. This is not how we brought you up.”

I became aware that they couldn’t even hear me. They believed that their behavior and my emotions had nothing to do with the entire circumstance.

It has to do with Molen’s reaction. They were more worried about her impending nuptials than the hurt they had caused me even during this discussion about their absence from my wedding.

I didn’t attempt to make things better. For the first time in my life, I didn’t retract or apologize.

Rather, I expressed my thoughts to them directly: “You’re correct on one point. I was raised by you.”

“You instilled in me the belief that I would never measure up, that Molen’s accomplishments would always be more significant than mine, that upholding your ideal family image was more essential than my feelings.”

“However, you also taught me that I deserve better than this, which was something you didn’t mean to teach me.”

Before my father spoke, there was a long pause. He spoke in a cool, collected tone: “Maybe it’s time for us to stop acting like we’re bad parents since you’ve already determined that we are and you obviously take pleasure in seeing us suffer.”

“Since you are family, we assumed you would assist in resolving this issue, but it is clear that you have made your own decisions.”

The last blow was delivered by my mother: “Perhaps you simply couldn’t cope with not being the center of attention even though we always tried to treat you both fairly, Rebecca. That’s not our fault. You made the decision to play the victim.”

Liberating Tears

I refrained from arguing. Why would it matter?

Everything I had been saying had just been validated by them. They were unable to admit their involvement in anything even at this last discussion.

I just hung up and said goodbye. I was surprised to feel relieved after the call.

Tears were shed to be sure, but they weren’t the frantic, heartbreaking ones I remember from my early years. They were liberating tears.

For the first time, I had expressed everything I needed to say without holding back or feeling guilty about how I felt. Later, my husband saw me gazing at the sunset from our back porch.

He sat next to me and grasped my hand without saying anything. After a time, I asked him: “They’re never going to change, are they?”

He said, squeezing my hand: “No, but you have, and that is what counts.”

He is correct. I’ve changed.

The young child who frantically tried to win her parents’ approval is no longer there. They no longer need to validate the woman who came out of that last conversation.

Although acknowledging that my parents will never be the people I need them to be is painful, it is not as painful as holding out hope that they would change. For the first time, I don’t really care what happens with my sister’s wedding or the family drama.

I’ve had my say and they now have to deal with whatever comes up. The most peculiar aspect is I feel as though a burden I’ve carried my entire life has finally been lifted.

Although it’s not the happy ending I had hoped for with my parents, perhaps it was the one I needed. The ability to quit striving for love that ought to have come naturally.