My fiancé and his mom insisted I wear a red wedding dress because I have a child,
but I had a better idea.
I thought love conquered all when Daniel proposed after two years. I said yes, dreaming of a family with my daughter, Lily. But his mother, Margaret, disapproved, insisting I couldn’t wear a white wedding dress due to my past as a mother. Daniel agreed, suggesting a red dress to reflect my “impurity.” Shocked, I found Margaret had returned my white gown and bought a garish red one. On the wedding day, I wore it, but planned a statement.
As I walked down the aisle, guests revealed red attire in solidarity. At the altar, I shed the red dress, revealing a black cocktail dress—my symbol of empowerment. I tossed the red gown at Margaret, declaring her control over. Daniel, furious, called it a spectacle, but I walked away, supported by friends, realizing leaving toxic expectations was my true freedom. Love doesn’t conquer all; courage does.
