Camille and I met at freshman orientation in college. She was lively and outgoing, while I was more introverted. Despite our differences, we complemented each other well.
During our junior year, Camille casually declared, “You have to be my bridesmaid one day.” I agreed, laughing it off, but she insisted on perfection for her wedding.
Ten years later, when Camille’s boyfriend Jake proposed to her in Maui, I was the first to hear. I happily agreed to be a bridesmaid, even though Camille’s wedding plans quickly became overwhelming. Each bridesmaid had binders, strict dress codes, and approved styles. Even small complaints about the dresses were met with resistance from Camille.
As the wedding approached, I started losing my hair due to a hormone imbalance. I had to cut it short, which wasn’t ideal for the wedding but seemed necessary. When I showed Camille, she seemed supportive at first. But soon after, she expressed concern about the “symmetry” of the photos, hinting that my short hair would ruin her perfect vision.
Days later, she sent an email telling me to step down from the wedding. Shocked, I sent her an invoice for the costs I had incurred for the wedding, expecting reimbursement. Her response was cold, citing my inability to “respect her vision.”
In retaliation, I sent the invoice to Camille and Jake, and blocked her. Jake apologized, but Camille remained distant.
My friends, Leah, Tara, and Megan, stood by me. They quit the wedding party too, telling Camille she needed to reimburse me or they were out. Camille eventually paid, but it felt hollow. The next day, I received the lavender dress back, as the replacement bridesmaid’s dress never arrived.
Reflecting on everything, I decided to donate the dress to an organization for patients undergoing treatment. It was my way of reclaiming control. I had lost a friend, but I had found my real friends, and I was finally standing up for myself. It wasn’t just about the money—it was about my peace of mind.
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