
Hello, my name is Demodex folliculorum and I live in the pores of the skin of your face that’s why it’s important to wash your face and remove makeup!!
The only way you can see me is with a microscope. I measure between 0,3 and 0,4 mm, and like spiders, I have 8 legs.
I like living in hair follicles that have your nose, cheek and eyelashes. These are places where there’s more fat to feed me.
I feed on your secretions and your dead skin. I can put up to 25 eggs in every hair follicle.
My digestive system is not able to eliminate my waste, so i accumulate them in my body until I explode and die. My remains cause hypersensitivity reactions.
According to some studies, in some people, I can cause infections on eyelids and rosacea.
I am a mite that is present in almost every adult on this planet.
Are you going to sleep in makeup tonight?
Bride Claimed I Destroyed My Sonâs Wedding Because of My Outfit Choice â Was I Really Wrong Here?

Claire just wants to be the glamorous mother-of-the-groomâbut when she realizes that her daughter-in-law has her own plans for the wedding, she steps back to focus on her own outfit, only for there to be a fight between her and Alice on the big day. Alice claims that Claire has destroyed the wedding by stealing her dream dress, while Claire sees nothing wrong in her actions. Who is wrong?
All I wanted was to be the mother-of-the-groom. Thatâs it. I just wanted to be the doting mother who loved her son more than anythingâbut this is the story of how my attempt to make my sonâs wedding perfect turned into a day weâd all rather forget.
When Mark introduced Alice to us, she was unlike anyone I expected him to fall for. Mark, my son, is a lawyer at a top firmâa position that he secured straight after his graduation from Stanford.
âIâm going to be a lawyer, Mom,â he told me once when he was still in high school and doing an essay on the career he wanted to get into.
âI could easily see that,â I told him, making him breakfast as he worked away.
âItâs to help fight injustices. For children, specifically,â he said, drinking his orange juice.
Mark had big dreams, and I knew that my son was always going to reach for the stars.
Alice, on the other hand, was completely different from my son. Her entire personality was light and carefree, whereas Mark was serious and brooding. Alice was a self-taught coder, who freelanced from their cozy apartment. Their worlds, their politics, their interests didnât align.
But they made it workâand they were a sweet couple for the most part. But love, as they say, is blind.
When Mark proposed to Alice, we were all invited to the scene to help surprise her.
âPlease, Mom,â Mark said on the phone. âAlice isnât close to her family, so to see you and Dad there will be good for her. Sheâll know that sheâs welcomed and supported.â
âOf course, honey,â I told him, already envisioning their wedding in my head.
I swallowed my reservations and offered to pay for the wedding. James and I had put money away for Markâs studies, but he had always gotten bursaries which paid for it all.
âWe can just use that money for the wedding, Claire,â my husband said over lunch the day after the proposal.
âItâs the best thing we could do for them,â I agreed. âThis way they can save up to move out of that small apartment. I know Markâs been talking about a house with a garden because he really wants a dog.â
When we told Mark and Alice, I thought that the gesture would bring us closer. I didnât have any daughters, so I thought that this would be my chance.
I could get to know Alice betterâand that would be good for Mark, to know that his wife and his mother got along well. Instead, the wedding planning only highlighted our differences.
After a few months into the wedding planning, I met Alice at a coffee shop so that we could go over the details. But we clashed on everything.
âI think roses are timeless,â I said, helping myself to a slice of cake.
âThey are, but theyâre also overdone in a sense,â Alice said, sipping her tea. âMark and I want peonies.â
Our meeting went back and forth a few timesâand we were stuck in a space where we just couldnât agree on anything.
âOkay, how about this?â I asked her. âYou go ahead with everything else, and just tell me what color your bridesmaids are wearing, so that there wonât be any clashes.â
âThey wonât be wearing green,â she said. âIâm leaning toward pink.â
I paid the bill and we parted ways with the wedding planning.
But then, one afternoon Alice texted me.
Hi Claire, just picking out my wedding dress with the girls! Iâm so excited! I wish you were here!
Attached were photos of her five top wedding dress picks.
I knew that Alice and I were on different ends of what we thought that the wedding should look like, but I wanted to be included in the big things. I wished that she had included me in the wedding dress shopping.
âAt least sheâs sending you the top picks,â James said as he read the newspaper next to me.
âI know, but itâs not the same,â I said.
âDo they look good?â he asked. âCan I see them?â
Together, we scrolled through the photos of the potential dresses. They were adequate choices, but nothing stood out.
Nothing that would fit the standard of my future daughter-in-law.
The dress that was Aliceâs favorite and the first contender for the actual wedding dress wasnât what I expected.
I typed back, telling Alice that it wasnât quite the best choice. And I hoped that my financial stake in the wedding would weigh in. James and I hadnât given the kids a budget. They had everything at their disposal.
Why not consider the second one? It might be more flattering for you.
James chuckled beside me.
âYouâre at the point of over-stepping,â he said.
Before I could say anything, my phone pinged with a message from Alice.
Sorry, but I disagree. This is the dress Iâm choosing.
That night over dinner, as James was plating our salmon, I shared my frustration with him.
âAlice is not even considering my opinion, and Iâm paying for the dress!â I exclaimed.
James tried to mediate; he also texted Mark to make sure that he knew how I felt, too.
âI think you should just leave the wedding planning to them now,â James said. âPut all your attention into yourself and what youâre going to wear.â
But it also turned out that Mark was able to persuade Alice to wear the dress I preferred.
I had to admit, it was the less stressful option, and I hadnât been able to shop for my dress before that.
So, thatâs what I did.
I went to a few different boutiques and eventually found my perfect dress. It was emerald green, which I knew brought out my eyes.
âThatâs beautiful,â James said when I tried the dress on for him.
I had felt different. I no longer felt like the mother-of-the-groom who had been pushed aside. Instead, I felt beautiful in my own skin, my self-esteem growing every time I thought of the dress.
When the wedding week loomed upon us, James and I tried to make ourselves as present as possible. We went to all the events that Mark and Alice needed us to be atâincluding the rehearsal dinner where we saluted them and drank champagne to toast the festivities.
âAll sorted, Mom?â Mark asked me. âYour dress and everything?â
I smiled at my son. Despite being in the middle of Alice and me, he was always checking in on me.
âOf course,â I said. âIâm ready to celebrate you and Alice.â
On the morning of the wedding, I put on my green dress and did my make up. It was everything I had wanted to look for my sonâs weddingâelegant and sophisticated.
As I arrived at the venue, the air was thick with murmurs. I ignored them, thinking that everyone was just so used to me being dressed in comfortable clothing, that this was something different for them.
I went straight to the brideâs dressing room, hoping to see Alice and compliment her before she walked down the aisle.
Upon opening the door, Alice looked upâher joyful expression collapsing into one of utter devastation. She looked me up and down before bursting into tears.
âWhy did you do this to me, Claire?â she sobbed, her voice choked with emotion.
Confused, I stepped into the room and closed the door.
âWhatâs wrong?â I asked her.
âYour dress!â she exclaimed.
âWhat about it?â I asked, second-guessing everything.
âItâs my dream wedding dress, just in another color,â she said, nearly shouting.
I was taken aback.
âAlice, honestly,â I said. âI didnât realizeâthey look so different in color.â
But Alice wasnât having any of it. She sat on the edge of the couch, her head in her hands.
âHow could you?â she looked up and cried out. âYouâve made this day about you! Just because we didnât take any of your suggestions!â
Mark, having heard the commotion from his dressing room next door, came rushing in.
âMom? Whatâs going on here?â he asked me.
He looked from Alice to me, seeking an explanation.
Trying to calm the waters, I explained everything slowly.
âI didnât see the resemblance, Mark,â I said. âI truly just loved the dress, and I thoughtââ
Alice stood up and marched toward Mark.
âNo!â she exclaimed. âYou thought that youâd show me what I couldâve had, but in green. Isnât that it?â
âMom, please,â my son said. âLetâs just try to get through the day. Please, for me.â
I agreed and left the dressing room. I just wanted to find James and sit quietly until the day was over.
I knew that Alice and I were walking a thin line, but I didnât expect her to shout at me in the manner that she did.
Naturally, I was upset, but I didnât want to ruin their day any further.
Reflecting now, perhaps I should have been more open to Aliceâs preferences. It was her day after all, not just mine to orchestrate. The question of whether I was wrong hangs heavily over me.
Yes, in trying to enforce my vision, I might have lost sight of what was truly importantâAliceâs happiness and Markâs peace on their special day.
Was I wrong for what I did?
Leave a Reply