When Mom told me not to wear my dream dress at MY WEDDING because it could “outshine my sister,” I realized her love for me. Always second.
I married my soulmate, Richard, last month. Starting this new chapter together, living in our lovely downtown apartment, and finding out who does the dishes has been great.
Our closest friends and family supported us during our wonderful event.
But the days before my wedding? They were nothing like my wonderful, heavenly expectations.
I dreamed of my wedding since childhood. Close my eyes and imagine walking down the aisle in a stunning dress that made me feel like the most beautiful lady in the world. I wasn’t vain—every bride deserves it on her big day.
I took my mother, Martha, and younger sister, Jane, to the bridal salon to choose my outfit. I was too excited to sleep the night before.
“What about this?” Twirling in my third dress, I requested. It was perfect. Soft ivory, off-shoulder, with beautiful lace embellishment that sparkled when I moved. The fairytale-like train flowed behind me.
Bridal consultant interlocked hands. Oh honey, that’s it. You look gorgeous.”
I saw my reflection and cried. The end. This was my dress.
Whatcha think? Looking at Jane and Mom, I inquired.
Jane got up. “Lizzie! You look great! Richard will faint at your sight!”
But Mom? She sat down, arms crossed over her chest, lips thinly lined.
“Is it too much, do you agree?” She said, narrowing her eyes.
My smile sank. “You mean what?”
“Maybe we should simplify.” She pointed vaguely at the dress racks. “Don’t outshine your sister.”
Did I hear correctly?
Excuse me? Outperform my sister? My own wedding?”
I laughed, assuming she was joking. The look on her face said otherwise.
Mom, I’m the bride. I’m meant to be the star.”
She leaned in and whispered. “Sweetheart, your sister hasn’t found anyone. If someone spots her during the wedding? She needs your help. Stop being selfish.”
Unable to speak. After a moment, my elation turned to ache. And Jane? She looked ashamed.
“Mom, stop it,” Jane whispered. This is Lizzie’s day.
Mom just sighed, like she often does when we’re troublesome.
Still, I bought the dress. I thought this ridiculous moment would pass. I wish my mother would realize how ridiculous she was.
No, it didn’t. And she didn’t.
That was just the beginning.
***
I crashed on our couch that night, suffering from the wedding store incident. Richard saw my expression and realized something was amiss.
What is it, Babe? he asked, sitting alongside me and grasping my hand.
“My mom thinks my wedding dress is too flashy. My voice caught. “She said I shouldn’t outshine Jane at our wedding.”
At our wedding? Is she serious?
“Dead serious,” I said. Not the first time she’s done this. My whole life has been ‘make place for your sister’ or ‘let Jane have this one.’ So bored of it.”
“Wear the dress you love, Lizzie,” he said smiling. Today is our day. Your mom will recover.”
Rich, you didn’t see her face. She meant it.”
“That’s her issue, not yours.” His voice was forceful but kind. “I want to marry you looking beautiful in whatever you wear.”
Yes, I tried to believe him. You’re right. Our wedding.”
We had clear blue skies and a light breeze on our wedding morning. Mom entered while I was getting dressed in the wedding suite.
She froze when she saw my clothing on the mirror.
“Really wear that?” The disappointment in her words was clear.
Inhaled deeply. “Yes, Mom. I am.”
“You’ll make your sister look invisible standing next to you,” she continued without lowering her voice. “Why not wear the one we saw at Macy’s? That cream one?”
Mom, please. Not today.”
She pursed her lips and adjusted the flowers, saying nothing. Then she departed.
I was completing my makeup an hour later when the door opened. The moment Jane entered, my heart stopped.
The floor-length gown was white. Not cream or ivory, but dazzling bridal white. With fitted waist and embellished bodice. Certainly not a maid-of-honor dress.
We looked in the mirror. I was speechless.
Mom trailed, grinning. Doesn’t she look pretty?
I was stunned. It felt like the room was spinning.
Best pal Tara grabbed my arm. “Lizzie? You okay?”
I wanted to yell and cry.
But I didn’t. Today was my wedding. I had to decide.
I might lose everything or overcome it.
So I chose option two and smiled. Let’s do it.”
***
I decided after witnessing Richard’s face light up as I approached down the aisle. I wouldn’t let anything ruin this moment.
Despite everything, the ceremony was amazing. Richard kept staring at me, and when he said, “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,” I almost forgot about the matched white dress standing feet away in every photo.
The reception followed.
Beautiful ballroom. It had glittering lights, floral centerpieces, and champagne. I enjoyed it all for a time.
Today was our day. Our chance.
But then I saw my sister take the DJ’s microphone for her maid-of-honor speech. My stomach twisted.
What now? My thoughts.
Nervously, Jane tapped the microphone. Her hands shook.
“May I have everyone’s attention?” Her voice shook.
Room quieted. Richard pressed my hand under the table.
“I need to say something before I begin,” Jane replied, inhaling deeply.
Tears filled her eyes as she faced me.
I’m sorry, Lizzie.”
Silence filled the room.
Mom has put me in front of you our whole lives. School, birthdays, and today, of all days.” Cracked voice. She urged me to wear this clothing to look better than you and get noticed. It was my chance, she said.”
Then I looked at my mother. Her skin paled.
“But it’s not your job to make me feel seen,” Jane said. It’s your wedding. I’m extremely proud of your wonderful bridehood.”
She wiped tears. “I brought another dress. I’ll return.”
A pin dropped as she left the room.
She returned in navy-blue clothing five minutes later. Elegant. Beautifully simple.
The audience applauded.
I couldn’t stop crying. I raced to her and hugged her tightly. Everyone clapped again.
“I’m so sorry,” she muttered. “I should have confronted her years ago.”
“We both should have,” I muttered.
My mom was transfixed at her table, white like the tablecloths. She approached us shaken after the speeches and first dance.
She muttered, “I didn’t realize…” “I thought I helped.”
My sister and I finally agreed, “You weren’t.”
We left toward the garden terrace. The night was cold and starry.
“All these years,” Mom remarked, “I thought I was doing the best. Jane always required additional assistance. Lizzie, I didn’t see what it was doing to you.”
I whispered, “You never saw me at all. Not really.”
She wept. We wept. First time in my life, I suppose she heard us.
“I’m sorry,” she said, clutching our hands. I’ll do better. I assure you.”
If she meant it, time will tell. An attempt was made.
While dancing our farewell dance, I glimpsed something over Richard’s shoulder. David, a buddy, approached Jane at the bar.
“That speech? I overheard him remark that was bold. “Want a drink?”
Jane flushed and smiled.
She may have been spotted after she ceased competing.
