Parents always prioritized my sister over me. So when I got engaged, they demanded I change my wedding date and venue to accommodate her needs. But I hung up and got married without them, which made the whole family furious.

I never thought I’d have to share with strangers. The past few days have been a whirlwind of emotions, and I find myself more conflicted than ever before. Desperate times call for desperate measures, they say. And I guess that’s why I’m reaching out to the Reddit community now. The events that have unfolded recently have left me questioning everything. And I just need to know, am I in the wrong here?

For context, I (26F) have been in a rift with my family ever since the day I was born. I grew up knowing that I wasn’t the favorite child. My sister, Emily (24F), was the center of my parents’ world. I was the quiet, independent one, while Emily was the one who needed constant attention and validation. My parents catered to her every whim, and as a result, I often found myself left out, particularly when it came to significant moments in my life.

When I was younger, I didn’t understand why my parents missed out on my achievements. My school recital, award ceremonies, and even birthdays often came and went without much acknowledgement from them. They always had an excuse—Emily wasn’t feeling well, Emily had a dance recital, Emily had a meltdown and needed them. It became a pattern I grew accustomed to, but it still hurt.

By the time I was a teenager, I had learned to stop expecting much from them. I poured myself into my studies and extracurricular activities, hoping to find validation elsewhere. I succeeded, earning scholarships and accolades, but my parents were usually too busy with Emily’s latest crisis to notice.

It wasn’t that they didn’t care at all. They just cared more about keeping Emily happy. My parents’ absence was particularly glaring during my college years. I was accepted into a prestigious university, one of the top in the country. I was over the moon, but when I called my parents to share the news, their response was lukewarm. They congratulated me briefly before changing the subject to Emily’s latest drama with her friends. They didn’t attend my graduation either, claiming that they couldn’t leave Emily alone.

It was the same story when I got my first job offer. My achievement was overshadowed by their concern for Emily’s fragile emotional state. Not even once did they question why all of Emily’s problems arose when I was about to have my moment.

As the years passed, I realized that nothing I did would ever be enough to make my parents prioritize me over Emily. So, I stopped trying to win their approval. I focused on building a life of my own, surrounded by friends who appreciated me for who I was.

I met my fiancé, Mark, during a business conference, and we quickly fell in love. He was everything I had ever wanted in a partner—kind, supportive, and understanding. He made me feel valued in ways my parents never had. When Mark proposed, I was ecstatic. I finally felt like I was the one who was being appreciated and cared for.

We started planning our wedding, but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that my parents would find a way to disappoint me yet again. I confided in Mark about my concerns, and he suggested that we have a small intimate ceremony with just a few close friends and family. I agreed, knowing that it would minimize the chances of my parents missing out on yet another milestone in my life.

As the wedding date approached, I debated whether to invite my parents at all. Part of me wanted them there, even if just for appearances, but another part of me feared they would decline or make excuses. I had not informed them very promptly after getting engaged, and I knew that it was a ticking bomb.

In the end, I decided to be optimistic and call them. Mom picked up my call and I told her that I had news. This time, I didn’t have high expectations because my parents hadn’t reacted well to any of my accomplishments. Why would their reaction to this be any different?

And I was right. When I told them that I got engaged, their first question was, “To who?” As if they hadn’t known that Mark and I had been dating for years. The casual disregard stung, but I forced myself to stay calm.

When I told them when it happened, mom’s tone shifted. She started accusing me of being a bad daughter for not informing her right away. She went on about how I had always been distant, how I never considered her feelings, and how unfair it was that I kept such important news from them.

Dad chimed in too, saying I had shown a complete lack of respect for them and that it was just another example of how I had always chosen my own path without considering the family.

Their reaction wasn’t just disappointing, it was infuriating. Here I was, excited to share one of the happiest moments of my life, and instead of congratulations or joy, I was met with criticism and guilt.

But what came next was the final straw. Mom suddenly softened and said they were willing to come to the wedding—but only if I made adjustments according to Emily’s needs.

They wanted me to change the date, the venue, even the guest list, anything to ensure that Emily was comfortable and happy. It was as if my wedding was just another event that needed to revolve around her.

That was the end of my patience. I hung up the phone. I didn’t call them back, and they didn’t reach out to me either. I knew that inviting them would only bring more pain and disappointment.

Mark and I proceeded with our plans. When the wedding day arrived, it was everything I had dreamed of and more. Surrounded by those who loved us unconditionally, Mark and I exchanged our vows in a ceremony that was intimate, joyful, and free from the toxic dynamics that had plagued so much of my past.

Some of my relatives whispered about why my parents and sister weren’t there. To avoid the image of being the ignorant daughter who didn’t invite her poor family, I confided in one of them about what had really happened. Soon the whispers turned into sympathy and support.

By the end of the day, the narrative had changed. Instead of being seen as the daughter who left her family behind, I was recognized as someone who had finally stood up for herself.

After the wedding, word spread quickly through the extended family. My parents, who had always been careful to maintain their image, were now facing scrutiny. They were livid—not because they had missed my wedding, but because they were being shamed by the rest of the family.

They called me furious, saying I should have been more understanding of Emily’s needs, that it was my responsibility to make her comfortable at my wedding. They even accused me of causing a rift in the family.

But this time, their words didn’t have the power they once did. I wasn’t that little girl anymore, desperate for their approval. I was done feeling guilty for wanting to be treated with the same respect and consideration as Emily.

My wedding day was supposed to be about celebrating my love for Mark, and I was glad I didn’t let my parents ruin it.

Update one.

Growing up, Emily had some emotional and behavioral issues that required a lot of attention. My parents justified their favoritism by saying that Emily needed them more because I was the strong one. But as we got older, their approach turned Emily into someone who expected the world to revolve around her.

She’s had failed relationships, never held down a job, and my parents continue to bail her out. In contrast, I’ve worked hard for everything I have. I think that’s why they don’t see me as a priority—they assume I’m fine without them.

After the wedding, Emily texted me saying she felt excluded because she wasn’t in the wedding party. The irony nearly made me laugh. Here she was playing the victim once again. I didn’t reply. I don’t have the energy anymore.

Mark has been my rock, reminding me I don’t owe explanations to people who’ve always put me last.

Update two.

A few days ago, I decided to meet with my parents. I thought it might be a chance to set boundaries. But it was a disaster—Emily was there too.

Instead of listening, my parents guilt-tripped me for not inviting them, saying I should have postponed the wedding until Emily was “more stable.” Emily chimed in with crocodile tears, claiming I had excluded her to hurt her.

That’s when I snapped. I told them everything our cousin Alex had told me: how Emily betrayed her, spread lies, tried to steal her boyfriend, and destroyed relationships.

My parents sat in silence at first, but then turned it back on me, accusing Alex and me of conspiring against Emily.

At that moment, I realized there was no hope. No matter what I said or did, they’d always choose Emily. So I walked away.

Update three.

Out of the blue, my dad called. For the first time, he apologized. He said he’d learned things about Emily from extended family that shocked him. He admitted he had been blind and wanted to be part of my life again.

My mom, however, is still in denial and refuses to see Emily’s faults.

Mark and I agreed to take things slowly. I’m not rushing to rebuild a relationship, but at least there’s a small step forward with my dad.

For the first time, I feel some closure. I’m focusing on my marriage and my future, no longer chained by the shadow of favoritism.