New wife sends nasty letters to those who RSVP’d to her wedding and didn’t show up

Mary Duncan

*This is a work of nonfiction based on actual events I experienced firsthand; used with permission.*
Photo by insung yoon on Unsplash

My sister recently got married to her boyfriend of three years and was a total bridezilla for the duration of her engagement.

My sister, Grace, is much fancier than I am. She had a very fancy wedding, a very expensive black tie affair at an expensive, all inclusive venue. The place was packed with her friends that looked like models and movie stars and I felt frumpy in my off the rack sister of the bride dress. That’s fine though, it wasn’t my special day.

I tried to be happy for her at her wedding while I was going through some of my own personal relationship issues, but it was hard to watch her. When she wasn’t gloating over herself, she was complaining about every little thing to my parents and her new husband that she thought was going wrong.

Some of the guests complained that their potatoes were cold. The cake took too long to come out. The band wasn’t playing enough upbeat songs. The dance floor was too slippery. Things like that.

If it were me, I’d like to think that I would have overlooked these little things and tried to enjoy my day, but not Grace.

After the wedding I thought her bridezilla attitude would subside, but I was wrong.

I went to her house the weekend after the wedding and she was sitting down writing cards at her kitchen table.

“Writing thank you notes already?” I asked, because Grace was the sort to send a thank you note to everyone, even for the littlest gift.

“No,” she snapped. “I’m writing to everyone who RSVP’d and then didn’t show up to my wedding.”

“What are you writing to them?” I asked, my mouth dropping open at her gall.

I wish I’d remembered her exact words, but they were something like:

“Thank you for RVSPing and then not showing up to my wedding. After I paid for the dinner you didn’t come to eat, I realized that we aren’t actually good friends and I shouldn’t have invited you anyway. Good luck in life.”

I will never forget the end. Good luck in life. Because when Grace went low, she always had to give at least the slightest appearance of going high.

I never would have had the gall, audacity, or downright meanness inside me to send letters like that. I would have let those people slip quietly out of my life. But not Grace, oh no.

What would you have done?

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I write about relationships and parenting, life, society, people, and sometimes also beer.

Connecticut State

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