That was nearly a year ago.
Since then, I’ve tried to understand why I was excluded. Each time I asked, the explanation changed. First, it was “It was just meant to be a small gathering.” Then, “There must have been a miscommunication.” Eventually, it became, “It’s just a party. It’s no big deal.”
I asked my brother directly if he was angry with me. I wondered if his fiancée didn’t like me. Even if that were the case, I couldn’t understand why my parents would be okay with it. It felt completely out of character—and deeply hurtful.
Christmas that year was painfully awkward. No one acknowledged the tension, and every conversation felt like forced small talk between strangers. When I visited in May for my sister’s birthday, things got worse. She said to me, “You moved so far away. It’s like you’re not really family anymore. You make everything feel so weird now.”
I left early.
Nine months ago, I received the Save the Date for the wedding. Six months ago, the formal invitation arrived. I wasn’t asked to be part of the wedding party, which by then didn’t surprise me. What did hurt was that both my sister and younger brother were included—another reminder that I was on the outside.
