When Jessie’s maid of honor, Emily, showed up in a dress that Jessie didn’t pick, her picture-perfect wedding day took an unexpected turn. Emily’s shocking attire sparked chaos, setting the stage for some sweet payback.
Hey everyone, Jessie here! Two weeks ago, I married the love of my life, Kevin. It should’ve been the happiest day ever, right? Well, thanks to my so-called best friend, let’s just say it became a story for the ages — and not in a good way.
Emily, my supposed best friend, the woman I’d chosen as my maid of honor, managed to steal the spotlight in the most outrageous way possible…
Emily and I have been best friends since we were knee-high to a grasshopper. We practically grew up together.
Now, don’t get me wrong, Emily’s a great friend, supportive and always there for me. But there’s this one tiny, well, not-so-tiny detail about her — she’s a tad competitive.
It started small, you know, harmless races on the playground to see who could reach the swings first. In high school, it was all about grades—who could snag the highest GPA.
Then came college, and suddenly, it was about who could throw the most epic birthday bash. You name it, we “competed” at it. But hey, that was all in good fun, right? Or so I thought.
Despite her win-at-all-costs streak and arrogance, we always managed to stay close. I never really saw it as a competition; I just figured a little healthy rivalry pushed us both to be better.
We navigated life together, from scraped knees on the playground to the corporate jungle of our careers.
And when my boyfriend Kevin popped the question, there was no doubt in my mind who’d be my maid of honor—Emily, obviously.
Planning the wedding was a whirlwind of excitement. I wanted everything perfect, down to the last detail. Romantic elegance was the theme, with soft hues of lavender and blush creating a dreamy spring garden vibe.
The bridesmaids’ dresses were a beautiful shade of lavender, the perfect complement to the whole aesthetic. I mean, I was paying for everything, dresses included, so naturally, I wanted everyone to look stunning and harmonious.
The day of the final fitting arrived, and Emily came over, all smiles and sunshine.
But as soon as she saw the dress I’d picked for her, her smile completely vanished. She held the lavender fabric at arm’s length like it was some kind of contagious disease.
“Uh, Jess,” she mumbled, “I don’t think I can wear this.”
“What? Why not?” I furrowed my brow, completely confused. This was the dress we’d all picked out together, the one everyone agreed on. And it was gorgeous.
“This color just washes me out,” she whined. “I’ll look like a ghost in it.”
Honestly, that was a stretch. The dress would look amazing on her, like it was practically made for her curves. But Emily was never one to back down from an argument, especially when it came to “winning.”
“Come on, Em,” I tried to reassure her, “it’s the same dress everyone else is wearing. You would look beautiful, trust me.”
But she wasn’t having it. She huffed and puffed, making a scene about how unflattering the dress was and how she just couldn’t possibly walk down the aisle looking like a pale ghost.
My patience started to wear thin, but you know how it is with bridesmaids, especially your best friend. You just don’t want any drama, right? So, I caved.
I reluctantly agreed to let her pick out another dress, hoping she’d at least choose something that wouldn’t clash with the whole lavender theme.
Fast forward to the wedding day. Everything was picture-perfect — the flowers, the venue, even the weather cooperated and decided to bless us with a beautiful spring day.
Butterflies danced in my stomach as I stood at the altar, waiting for the music to cue the bridal party entrance. My bridesmaids walked down the aisle one by one, looking stunning in their lavender dresses, just as planned.
Then came Emily’s turn.
Mom Leaves Note On “Disrespectful” Son’s Door, And Now It’s Going Viral
Being a parent to a cocky, disrespectful teenager is far from easy, and different parents have different approaches to get their children to behave.
One mom, Heidi Johnson, wrote a handwritten letter to her son, Aaron, and shared it on Facebook. She didn’t intend for the post to go viral. She didn’t even intend to make the post public. It was supposed to just be for friends to see, but she does not regret her post or the fact that it’s public.
In the letter to her 13-year-old son, Johnson reprimanded her son treating her like a “roommate.” She went on to give him an itemized bill for rent, food, etc that totaled over $700. If he was going to treat her like a roommate instead of his mom, she would do the same.
Johnson signed the note, “Love Mom,” and she truly does love her son. She followed up the post with another post explaining some backstory to the situation. She also reassured parents who were criticizing her that “I am not going to put my 13 year old on the street if he can’t pay his half of the rent. I am not wanting him to pay anything. I want him to take pride in his home, his space, and appreciate the gifts and blessings we have.”
She added that she never intended for Aaron to pay the bill. Instead, she wanted him to “gain an appreciation of what things cost.” The reason Johnson wrote the note was to make sure her son understood “what life would look like if I was not his ‘parent,’ but rather a ‘roommate.’ It was a lesson about gratitude and respect from the very beginning.”
Johnson also explained that before she wrote the note, her son had lied about doing his homework, and when she told him she was going to restrict his internet access, he responded, “Well, I am making money now.” She explained that the money he was referring to was a little bit of income he was making from his YouTube channel, but not nearly enough to pay for food and rent.
The public note has not hurt Johnson’s relationship with her son. She explained, “He and I still talk as openly as ever. He has apologized multiple times.”
Johnson has also had parents turning to her for advice since she posted the note to her son. She explains, “My post seems to have opened a door, and people feel safe coming to me and asking for advice, venting, or even just have someone bear witness to their experience by listening and opening up and sharing a piece of myself in return.”
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