Our Daughter Was Ashamed of Us and Didnt Invite Us to the Wedding
Today, I need to share the pain weighing on my heart. Our daughter was embarrassed by us for being from the countryside. She didnt even invite us to her wedding
My husband and I have always lived simply but with dignity. Our home, the vegetable patch, the cows, the daily worriesour whole life revolved around one goal: raising our only daughter to be a good person. For her, wed do anything. The best always went to Emily. New shoes? Of course. A coat so she wouldnt feel out of place next to the city girls? No question. We scraped together what little we had just so shed never go without. She grew up beautiful, clever. Top marks in school, dreams of city life. And we were thrilledour Emily was meant for more than our quiet life.
With some help from friends, my husband got her into a top university in London. A public course, no less. We were proud as if it were our own achievement. We supported her however we couldmoney, encouragement. Every visit home was a celebration. We hung on her stories like they were fairy tales: her office job, her well-off boyfriendWilliam, son of a businessman. She lit up talking about him. And all we thought was, *Please let the wedding come soon*
But years passed, and no proposal came. One day, my husband couldnt take it anymore: “Invite William over, at least let us meet him!” She hesitated, made excuses about work. Again and again. Suspicion grew. Something wasnt right. So we decidedmy husband and Iwed go to London. Found an old address in her letters. Bought biscuits, dressed in our best, and set off.
The house was pure luxury. Brick, glass, a gated drive. A kind man greeted us and led us inside. Wealth straight out of a film. We stood frozen, not knowing where to look, until we were shown to the sitting room. Then I saw it. On the table, a large framed wedding photo. In white, holding a bouquetour Emily. My husband went still as stone. And I felt the floor drop beneath me.
“Why didnt you come to the wedding, by the way?” William asked suddenly.
We exchanged glances. What could we say? That we never knew it happened? Just then, she walked in. Emily. Her face went pale, lips trembling. I gestured for her to step outside with us. At first, she tried to dodge it, but finally, she broke:
“I didnt invite you because youre from the country. I was ashamed. I didnt want everyone knowing my parents were simple village folk”
That word cut straight through me. A knife to the heart. *What?* Us? Ashamed? After everything we gave her? Every sleepless night just so she could have a future?
“And William?” I asked, barely breathing. “Did he know?”
“Yes. He wanted you there. Even sent an invite, but I told him youd refused”
And that was it. We were the shame she hid. She didnt even give us the chance to be there on the most important day of her life. No warning, no explanationjust erased.
We left that same day. No tears, no shouting. Just an emptiness in our souls. How do you move on when your own flesh and blood turns away? How do you believe any of it mattered? That we didnt raise a stranger?
Since then, Emily hasnt called. And we havent reached out. Not out of angerjust sorrow. Because what do you say to someone who betrayed you so easily?
