When Jim and I became engaged, his mother, Beth, immediately began to intrude. She quickly overwhelmed us with her ideas.

“I have so many plans for your wedding, Tina,” Beth exclaimed. “I’ve been dreaming of Jim’s wedding for ages!”

“But this isn’t just my wedding, Mom,” Jim tried to remind her.

She brushed off his comments and rambled on about floral designs.

It was clear I needed to step in if I wanted any control over my own wedding.

“Will your mom back off, right?” I asked Jim during a walk. “This isn’t going to cause a fight? I don’t actually have to confront her, do I?”

Jim laughed lightly and squeezed my hand.

“My mother is intense,” he acknowledged. “But she’s sensible. She’ll get the hint.”

However, Beth didn’t get the hint.

She insisted on meeting me at a café to discuss venues, flowers, and even the cake.

“Vanilla is the classic choice,” she insisted, taking a sip of coffee. “Don’t go for chocolate, or, heaven forbid, peanut butter. And avoid naked cakes. They’re just not appealing.”

“Look, Beth,” I finally said. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I’ve already planned everything with Jim.”

Despite this, she showed me a picture of a purple dress she intended to wear, seeking my approval.

Little did I realize, this was merely the start.

On our wedding day, as I was finalizing my makeup, Beth arrived in a long, white silk dress.

“Beth? What are you wearing?” I gasped. “A white dress? Where’s the purple one you showed me?”

She slowly turned towards me and touched up her lipstick in the mirror of my dressing room.

“Come on, Tina,” my sister urged from the doorway. “It’s time!”

Beth smirked and winked as she walked out ahead of me.

I was moments away from marrying the love of my life, but Beth’s choice overshadowed my excitement.

The ceremony itself was flawless, but the disrespect from Beth weighed heavily on my heart.