I have faced discrimination my entire life because of my golden-child sister. My parents always favored her, and it was far from subtle. If she accused me of something, they’d believe her and punish me. But if I accused her, even with undeniable proof, they’d give her a lighter punishment and find a way to scold me, too. My birthday cake always had to be her favorite flavor, and my parents pretended they didn’t know I hated it.
My sister grew up spoiled and used me as a punching bag. At first, she mostly ignored me, but things got worse when we were teens. She ended up with no friends, and her behavior deteriorated. My parents boasted about her achievements but never mentioned any issues, whereas they constantly highlighted my flaws as teasing material.
I only knew she had no friends because we went to the same school, and I noticed she was always alone. Meanwhile, I was fairly popular. My sister realized this and suddenly turned me from an occasional punching bag to someone she needed to take down constantly. She started accusing me and my friends of more things, and my parents stopped letting me hang out with anyone, using excuses like, “They’re not good people, according to your sister,” or “Why are you trying to leave us? Why can’t you be like your sister and enjoy family time?”
What saved me from complete isolation was my extended family. At one gathering, my cousins invited me to something, and I sadly replied that I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. When asked why, my kid self bluntly said it was because I wasn’t allowed to have friends since my sister didn’t have any. This got back to the adults, who apparently tore my parents apart. Later, I was scolded for “lying” and grounded for a month, but after that, they gave me some leeway, so it was worth it.
My sister changed schools. I guess the humiliation of our extended family knowing her social status was too much, so she demanded to switch, and my parents immediately obliged. She made friends at the new school, but she never went back to ignoring me. Her friends would come over and bully me, which my parents called “light teasing.” I never invited friends over because my parents were awful hosts, or my sister would accuse them of stealing, and my parents would believe her.
Then I got my first boyfriend. I didn’t want to bring him home, but my parents insisted. At one point, we were separated, and he came to find me to tell me my sister was flirting with him. She came over in skimpy clothing, batting her eyelashes, and started telling him how bad I was and how good she was. He was irked and ran off to find me. Of course, my sister told my parents a different story: that my boyfriend had tried to flirt with her, but she naturally refused. Guess who my parents believed?
I immediately believed my boyfriend for a mean reason. My parents were overweight and liked showing love via food. My sister was also overweight, whereas I was not. I’ve always been kind of skinny because punishment often included no treats or snacks. My sister, even then, was rude and spoiled. Even her flirting attempts were bad because she never learned to work for anything. Added to that, the fact that she didn’t look like some sexy model, even my self-conscious teen self didn’t believe my boyfriend would try and cheat on me with her.
Anyway, my parents prohibited me from dating such a “horrible boy.” I tried to keep going in secret, but it was hard, and the relationship ended. I did get another boyfriend, but again, my sister accused him of flirting with her when he refused her advances. Again, my parents believed her. I tried pointing out how this happened again, but they decided I was incapable of making good choices. The relationship couldn’t handle the Romeo-and-Juliet situation and fizzled out again.
My sister did bring one boyfriend home during all this time. He was paraded with pride until he stopped showing up, and suddenly he was a “conniving bastard that tricked my sister.” The unequal treatment continued. She had more spending money and better curfews. If I pointed it out, my parents would say it’s because she’s older. But when I reached that age, I still didn’t have the same treatment. They denied they ever said that or claimed it was because I couldn’t be trusted.
The Escape
Time went by, and it was time for my sister to graduate. She was accepted into a college—not a very well-regarded one, and with no scholarship. My parents, of course, made a lot of fanfare and told her they’d pay for everything. I was relieved she’d be going away.
Eventually, my mom came to talk to me about my impending graduation. I’m only a year younger than my sister. She told me that since they were paying for my sister’s college, they had no money to pay for mine. It would be better for me to start working immediately after graduation and wait until my sister finished university to see if they could afford something for me. Oh, and if I decided to stay at home, I’d have to pay for rent and all my own things.
I didn’t bat an eyelid. I simply said, “Okay.” My mom clearly didn’t expect that and kept crying. Maybe she hoped I’d throw a tantrum so they’d have an excuse to never pay for my college.
You see, after a lifetime of their terrible parenting, I never had any expectations. I knew they would find an excuse not to pay for my education. I had been preparing for college for a long time. I could barely go out, and my friendships were slim, so I had a lot of time to study. And study I did, because I saw college as my only chance to be free.
Well, the time came, and I worked my ass off and got a full scholarship to a decent college. Knowing my sister would hate it and try to stop me via my parents, I put my achievement on social media at the same time I told them, even forcing myself to thank them in the post. Now they couldn’t forbid me from going, as they’d have to explain to the family why not. Initially, they were even a little proud, but then I guess my sister got to them. They changed gears and even asked if I was sure I wanted to go, letting slip that my sister wasn’t doing well in college and since she was “smarter,” I’d suffer worse. I obviously stuck to my guns.
College was my savior. I started being happy. My sister eventually dropped out of college and moved back home, paying no bills or rent, but “it’s different,” my parents said.
The Man and The Plan
I met my husband around this time. He’s the type who actually does something when faced with injustice. I’m the type who is a meek doormat and then can’t sleep at night, wishing I had done something witty. He loves drama and loves to resolve it. If he doesn’t immediately reply to a slight, you better start worrying, because he won’t forgive and forget; he’s just planning something worse for revenge.
When we discussed marriage, we decided to do it in my hometown, since his family was spread out and mine was mostly concentrated there. At this point, my parents naturally demanded to meet my man. I wanted to grow a spine and refuse, but the distance had made me think maybe they weren’t so bad.
My husband, however, looked like I had canceled Christmas. See, he had been getting ready for this. He even bought a high-quality recorder he could hide in a pocket. He was stoked, thinking of all the ways he could refuse my sister’s advances, insult her, and then spread the recording to my family.
So off he went, alone and excited, and came back later, euphoric. “Babe, babe, you won’t believe the awful things they want! Babe, we can screw them over so bad!”
He smartly told me to listen to his account first, or else I’d misunderstand. He went there, and instead of flirting, my parents and my sister sat him down. After some grumbling about not being okay with him, they proclaimed they were willing to pay for my wedding on one condition: my sister would walk down the aisle first, in a wedding dress. Their excuse was that it wasn’t okay for a younger sister to marry first, so it was only fair if my sister at least had the experience of it.
Now, my husband will type his part.
Hey, vengeful husband here. Hell hath no fury like a ProRevenge lurker when his beloved is scorned. As much as my wife paints me as this quick-witted dude, I admit my neurons all but short-circuited when those folks legit suggested that crap. Like, some sort of great gift? Even Troy would rather take in the horse a second time, me thinks. Alas, after my brain rebooted, I did have a whole list of insults ready to spew out, but something in my soul whispered in my ear like the devil: string these idiots along. So, I said I needed to think, see how my wife would react, and then ran out of there before I could give away my nefarious plans.
Back to me, the wife.
So, my husband recounted how my parents wanted even my wedding to be about my sister, with a grin on his face and the recording to prove it. I was shocked. Thankfully, my husband insisting on the angle of revenge helped me not go to a bad headspace. We had a blast thinking up ways to screw them over. We eventually settled for the most benign plan: act like we agreed, but then hire security and don’t let her in.
My husband went back to my parents. He said he probed and thought I wouldn’t be down with it. However, he didn’t see the issue and, not wanting the family to fall apart, would be down to help them. He pointed out that I don’t like conflict, so if I was surprised with it, I might not throw a tantrum. Thus, he suggested a compromise: they’d help pay for stuff. This way, I would feel even more pressure to not say anything. My parents looked shocked, and my grown sister literally started skipping with joy.
Importantly, my husband also claimed that due to my “bad judgment” with past boyfriends, I was distrustful and controlling and liked to check his phone. As such, it was imperative that nothing of this plan was ever put in writing. For any discussion, he would go over to their house to talk.
And so began the months of deception. My parents and sister thought they were tricking me, while my husband and I were milking them. We’d go to check the drink and menu options and then accept the lowest-priced option. My husband would then secretly take my sister there, sigh, and say it’s a pity we won’t get the best options. Cue my sister demanding my parents pay for the best. The same was done with the photographer and flowers.
My husband and I, who had sincerely considered a courthouse wedding, ended up having this extravagant, expensive wedding and barely spent a dime. We called it “back pay for emotional damages.”
The Wedding Day
Soon, the day came. The plan was to wait until everyone was seated. Since the bride always comes out late, they’d have my sister arrive at that precise time to avoid me seeing her. She’d walk down the aisle, and by the time I heard what happened, it would be too late.
As for my dress, my husband took some leftover fabric from my alterations to my parents’ place as “proof” he’d ruined the dress, then said he had to go back to me as I was “raging.”
We made sure to keep our real security hidden initially. Only after my parents had settled in did we bring out the actual security, a guy who looked like a bodyguard. We instructed him not to let my sister in.
Soon, the moment arrived. My parents got a text that my sister was less than five minutes away, so my dad signaled for the ceremony to start. My bridesmaids, who were prepped, followed his lead. After they all took their places, my dad stood at the entrance, waiting for me.
During this, a friend not in the wedding party texted me to get ready. As soon as my dad took his position, the bridal song began. The doors opened, and I entered.
My dad was shocked to see me. He tried to look behind me but couldn’t see the venue entrance. Then his phone rang. I saw the caller ID; it was her. He left me with a mumbled, “Something came up.”
Gasps filled the room. The friend in on the plan loudly asked, “What happened?” I lied and said tearfully, “He told me it wasn’t supposed to be me there.” The tears weren’t just acting; I was genuinely hurt. The friend then loudly asked, “What did he mean, it shouldn’t be you?” so that everyone could hear. Then she said, “I will go and check,” and ran off to create chaos with the security.
Eventually, my mom also left. At this point, my husband’s dad, who had been forewarned, quickly ran over and took my arm. I walked down the aisle to whispers as people discussed what had happened. When I reached my husband, all was well. He comforted me, joking that my sad face was so real I deserved an Oscar.
We got married without any further issues. My parents didn’t come back.
Here’s the summary I got afterward from friends, family, and the security guy: My sister arrived in a wedding dress. The security refused to let her in, telling her she must be at the wrong venue because there was already a bride. My dad tried threatening him with the police. The security guard agreed to call the police since he was hired by us and was just doing his job.
At this point, the friend came over, started shouting and insulting my sister, and asking what was going on, basically stalling. My mom soon arrived, followed by others. By then, the wedding plan was ruined. All my parents could do now was damage control, as everyone who learned about it was horrified.
The three of them naturally said it wasn’t a secret and blamed my husband. When he was called over, my husband put on his best confused look and denied everything. To quote him: “Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, LOL.” He denied ever agreeing to such a ridiculous plan. When they insisted, he demanded proof, and of course, they couldn’t provide any.
My sister was screaming, crying, and apparently sat on the floor, kicking her legs like a child. My dad looked like he wanted to hit my husband, but security and other people held him back. My husband laughed and said, “Wow, how convenient, huh?” Then he repeated, “Why would I ever agree to something so messed up?” He ripped into them about being terrible parents and said he wasn’t going to let their stupid plans ruin his wedding, then went back to me.
No one believed them. Eventually, they were told to leave.
The Aftermath
Since then, the three of them have tried to contact me. I’ve refused calls because my husband insisted on keeping a paper trail. My sister eventually messaged me. I won’t repeat what she said, as it was very unhinged, but the important part was that she blamed me for her humiliation and called my husband a “two-faced snake who fooled them for months.”
My husband took my phone, screenshotted the call logs and messages, and sent it all to our family group chat. He kept up the “you’re delusional, I never agreed to anything” shtick and even threatened to sue them for defamation and harassment. He wrote a message in the group chat begging my family for help, as I was now being harassed by them constantly. He ended with a request that they not share our honeymoon location to prevent my parents from sending my sister over to claim he had somehow agreed to sleep with her.
My family assured him they’d handle it, and since then, we’ve had peace. All in all, while I would have preferred a normal, loving family at my wedding, at least for once in my life, they not only failed to ruin something meaningful to me, but I got back at them.