I never imagined my wedding day would turn into a battlefield, but when you come from a family like mine, surprises are inevitable.
Don’t get me wrong—I love them. But the women in my family? They operate on a different level entirely.
Picture a swarm of aunts, cousins, my mom, stepmom, stepsister, and my grandmother, all bound by their shared love of what they called “playful teasing.” The rest of us knew it for what it was: a tradition of relentless criticism wrapped in a thin veil of humor.
Growing up, I saw them dismantle relationships like fragile ornaments. My cousin Mike’s first girlfriend barely lasted one family dinner before she excused herself to the bathroom and never came back. My sister-in-law Kelly endured months of their judgment before they begrudgingly accepted her. Even my stepmom had to weather their storm of subtle and not-so-subtle jabs before they relented.
“It builds character,” my mom would say whenever I objected. “Everyone goes through it. It’s how we know they’re really family.”
I always thought it was more like a trial by fire, a test to see how much someone could endure before breaking.
When I met Jen, I knew she was different—kind, intelligent, and confident in a way that made everyone around her feel valued. I also knew my family would see her as their next challenge.
Determined to shield her, I laid down the law at our first family dinner together.
“No harassment,” I warned them. “I mean it. Jen is off-limits.”
They smiled, nodded, and promised to behave. I should have known better.
Two weeks later, my cousin Ben showed me the comments they’d left on Jen’s Facebook page. They had mocked everything from her career in marketing to her volunteer work at an animal shelter.
I saw red.
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