When Megan asked me to be her bridesmaid, I felt honored. We weren’t as close as we used to be, but I thought this meant I still mattered. That illusion shattered when she told me my boyfriend Tyler wasn’t invited—while every other bridesmaid got a plus-one. Her excuse? Our relationship wasn’t “serious enough.” We’d been together a year, lived together, and he’d even helped her move. I swallowed the insult, told myself it was her day, and tried to be supportive. But something felt off, and that feeling only grew stronger as the wedding approached.
The day of the wedding, I stood alone while the other bridesmaids gushed about their dates. Megan made a snide comment about “maybe meeting someone better,” and I realized she wasn’t just being selective—she was scheming. At the reception, I was seated beside an empty chair that screamed Tyler’s absence. Then Megan’s sister dragged me to the bar to meet Dean, a guy who’d been pestering me online for months. Megan had orchestrated the whole thing, banning Tyler so she could play matchmaker. I felt betrayed, humiliated, and furious.
I confronted Dean, loudly and publicly, refusing to entertain the setup. Megan and her friends giggled like it was a rom-com, but I wasn’t playing along. I left the wedding early, mascara streaked and heart aching, and drove straight to Tyler. He held me as I sobbed, and when I told him everything, he said what I hadn’t dared admit: Megan wasn’t a friend. Her manipulation, her disregard for my boundaries, and her twisted matchmaking proved she didn’t respect me or my relationship. I wasn’t crazy. I was hurt—and rightly so.
Days later, Megan bombarded me with texts, blaming me for “ruining” her wedding. Her messages dripped with entitlement, insisting Dean was a “catch” and I’d been rude. I drafted a reply, pouring out my anger and disappointment, but I haven’t sent it. Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. But I know this: the friendship I thought I had is gone. Megan chose control over care, spectacle over sincerity. And I’m done protecting people who don’t protect me.
