My Mom Told Me Not to Wear My Wedding Dress Because “It Would Outshine My Sister’s” — At My Own Wedding

Mom told me not to wear my dream dress at MY WEDDING because it could “outshine my sister,” and I realized her love for me. Always second.

I married my soulmate, Richard, last month. We’ve enjoyed starting this new chapter together, living in our lovely downtown apartment, and finding out who does the dishes.

Our closest friends and family supported us during our wonderful event.

But the days before my wedding? They weren’t magical like I’d expected.

I dreamed of my wedding since childhood. Close my eyes and imagine going 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 one?” 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.

“What do you 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.

“It’s… a bit much, don’t you think?” She said, narrowing her eyes.

My smile sank. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe we should find something simpler.” She pointed vaguely at the dress racks. “You don’t want to 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.

I’m the bride, mom. I should be the focus.”

She leaned in and whispered. “You know your sister hasn’t found anyone, Sweetheart. If someone spots her during the wedding? She needs your help. Stop being selfish.”

Unable to speak. A old ache replaced my exhilaration for a minute. And Jane? She looked ashamed.

“Mom, stopit,” Jane whispered. “This is Lizzie’s day.”

However, Mom sighed as usual when she thought we were being tough.

Still, I bought the dress. I thought this ridiculous moment would pass. I wish my mother would realize how ridiculous she was.

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.

“Babe, what is it?” he asked from beside me, holding my hand.

“My mom feels my wedding dress is too flashy. Saying—”My voice caught.” She advised me not to outshine Jane during 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 way for your sister’ or ‘let Jane have this one.’ I’m fed up.”

“Wear the dress you love, Lizzie,” he said, smiling. It’s our day. Your mom will recover.”

Rich, you didn’t see her face. She meant it.”

“Then that’s her problem, not yours.” His voice was forceful but kind. “I want to marry you while you’re wearing whatever makes you feel beautiful.”

Yes, I tried to believe him. You’re right. This is 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.

“You’re really going to 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 added without lowering her voice. Why not wear the one we saw at Macy’s? The 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 lovely?”

I was shocked. 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 this.”

***

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 nearly forgot about the matched white dress 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.

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” Her voice shook.

Room quieted. Richard pressed my hand under the table.

“Before I begin,” Jane breathed, “I just need to say something…”

Tears filled her eyes as she faced me.

“Lizzie, I’m so sorry.”

Silence filled the room.

Mom put me in front of you our whole lives. At school, on birthdays, and today even.” Cracked voice. “She urged me to wear this clothing to look better than you and get noticed. It was my chance, she remarked.”

I looked at my mother. Her skin paled.

Jane added, “But it’s not your job to make me feel seen.” “Your wedding. I’m extremely proud of your gorgeous bridehood.”

She wiped tears. I brought another dress. I’ll return.”

One could hear a pin drop as she went.

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 sorry,” she muttered. “I should have stood up to 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.

“I didn’t realize…” she mumbled. “I thought I was helping.”

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 OK. Jane always required additional assistance. Lizzie, I didn’t observe its effects.”

“You never saw me,” I whispered. “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 guarantee.”

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? Quite daring, I heard him exclaim. “Want to grab a drink?”

Jane flushed and smiled.

She may have been spotted after she ceased competing.

As for Richard and me? Our life together begins with a new understanding. Sometimes your chosen family is more significant than your birth family. Standing in your own light is sometimes necessary.

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