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When my parents spent nearly sixty thousand dollars on my sister’s wedding, I was honestly happy for her. I watched her walk down the aisle surrounded by flowers, lights, and applause, and I thought, she deserves it. I never felt jealous or slighted — at least not then.
But when it was my turn to marry, my parents handed me two thousand dollars in an envelope and my mother said lightly, “You’re older now; you can manage things yourself.” Something inside me shifted. I didn’t argue, and I didn’t cry. I simply nodded, thanked them, and decided that my wedding would be built from peace — not resentment.
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