My Cousin Deliberately Made My Wedding Dress Two Sizes Too Small – She Was Astonished When She Saw How I Handled It

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. I was surrounded by the people who loved me, and even more, my cousin wanted to do something so intimate by making me a wedding dress.

Everything felt right.

We spent weeks choosing the design and fabrics. We pored over the magazines and websites, and finally, I had an idea in mind.

One day, I met Sarah at her office, ready to take my final measurements so that she could start with my dress.

“You’re going to look amazing,” she said, taking my measurements precisely, jotting down everything carefully on her writing pad.

“Oh, I hope so,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee as Sarah put her measuring tape away. “I’ve been on a strict diet, and I’m finally happy with my weight. So, it’s just about maintaining my figure now.”

“You look good, Jess,” she said. “But if anything changes and you find yourself losing or gaining weight, just let me know, and you can come in for another fitting.”

I nodded and left, eager to see how my dress was going to turn out.

But when I went for the final fitting, things took a turn.

I slipped into the dress, but something was wrong—it was way too small. I couldn’t even zip it up, no matter how hard I sucked in my breath.

“Jess! Are you crazy to gain weight before the wedding?” Sarah asked, her tone dripping with mock concern.

My heart sank. We were two weeks away from the wedding, and judging from this fitting, I didn’t have a dress.

“I haven’t gained any weight, Sarah,” I replied. “I’ve been too stressed to eat. If anything, I should have lost weight because of that!”

Sarah shrugged, barely concealing a smirk that was plastered onto her face.

“Well, I’ll try to fix it, but with the wedding so close, I can’t make any promises. I have other clients waiting for their orders, too, Jess.”

Her words rang loud and clear in my head as I drove away from her office.

And then it hit me — this wasn’t an accident. I recalled the way she spoke to me, and the tone in her voice. There was no remorse in her mistake. There was no mix-up in measurements. There was no weight gain with me.

This was deliberate, and Sarah had made the dress too small on purpose.

“I don’t know what to do,” I told Michael when he got home that evening.

“Show me the dress?” he asked, pouring himself a glass of water.

“What! No!” I exclaimed. “The dress may be a mess, but it’s bad luck for you to see!”

“Look, why don’t you take the dress to Mrs. Lawson? She’s my mom’s friend, and she does all her alterations. She’s making Mom’s dress for the wedding, too.”

So, I gathered the awful dress and went to Mrs. Lawson, who was a retired seamstress with a reputation for miracles.

“Oh, honey,” she said when I walked in. “Michael phoned me and told me all about the mess. But I’ve seen the worst and made it a hundred times better.”

“This might be tricky, though,” I said, showing her the dress.

“Honey, I’ve seen it all, trust me. Let’s make this work,” she chuckled.

Together, we transformed the original design into something completely new. A chic, short, cocktail-style dress that was bold, unconventional, and a bit edgy for a wedding.

But it was absolutely stunning. It was everything Sarah’s dress wasn’t: fun, flirty, and perfectly me.

When it was time to walk down the aisle, my heart raced. I stood in the bridal suite of the wedding venue and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked beautiful. I felt beautiful.

As my dad walked into the room to get me, his jaw dropped.

“My darling,” he said. “You look incredible! Wow!”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “I know it’s not what we all envisioned me wearing for my wedding, but it’s been the best surprise. I feel like a bride.”

“That’s the only thing that matters, darling,” he said.

Soon, my entrance music began, and goosebumps appeared all over my body as a classical version of a Lana Del Rey song took over the room.

Heads turned.

And I felt the buzz of admiration follow me as people watched me walk in. I knew that my dress was a hit.

When I got closer to Michael, his eyes widened, and his smile took over his face. I knew then that the man I was about to marry fell in love with me all over again.

But before I took my place next to Michael, I turned to Sarah, wanting to see her expression first.

Her face was priceless: she was pale and shocked. I knew she had expected to see me in tears, humiliated by her sabotage and wearing that horrible dress she had designed.

Instead, I was glowing, smiling from ear to ear.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, Michael’s vows leaving me in tears and my heart full of love for the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

But then came the reception.

Michael and I were mingling with our guests when Sarah cornered me.

“Jess, what happened to the dress? Where’s my original design? Why did you change it?” she asked, trying to hide her confusion.

I grinned.

“Oh, I thought I’d take your design and make it better! Remember, you weren’t even sure that you could do anything about it. And I was bursting out of it because it was at least two sizes too small.”

“So, that’s it? You just threw away my hard work?” she gasped. “That’s low!”

“No, Sarah, your work is the foundation of this dress. It’s just a hundred times better because the woman who fixed it wanted me to look and feel beautiful on my wedding day.”

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Around us, guests kept complimenting my dress, calling it unique and stunning.

Sarah had no choice but to stand there and listen.

“Come on, love,” Michael called to me. “Let’s do our first dance so that I can really get into the buffet after! The roast beef is to die for!”

“I’m coming,” I smiled, finally happy.

What would you have done?

4 real-life stories about parents who left their kids homeless & begged them for a favor years later

Most parents would give their entire world for the well-being of their children, but sadly, not every child gets to live in a loving home and experience affection, care, and love. Some are neglected and even abused by those who are supposed to provide for them and treat them as jewels.

Four people took to Reddit to tell their life stories and share how beside the injustice and the horrible treatment by their parents they still managed to stand on their feet and turn their lives around. As of their moms and dads, they got what they deserved at the end.

Read their stories below.

Father Needs Son’s Help after Bringing Him up in an Abusive Childhood

In 2019, an individual who identified as Asian turned to Reddit’s “AITA” forum to share a narrative. Recounting his upbringing, the man revealed that his father’s treatment during his childhood was marked by being frequently kicked out of his home.

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The family’s financial struggles led them to reside in a subpar townhouse in an unfavorable part of town. Following the common stereotype associated with Asian fathers, the narrator’s dad exhibited extreme strictness regarding academic performance.

If the original poster (OP) received a grade below 70, was tardy to class, or failed to adhere to a curfew, his father’s response was consistent: eviction from the house. Despite his pleas and appeals, he would find himself relegated outdoors with only a sleeping bag, regardless of the weather conditions — rain or snow.

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This pattern continued until the age of 16 when a friend extended the courtesy of allowing OP to stay overnight. Each time he was expelled, he would eventually return, apologize, and be permitted to re-enter the home, with him revealing: “[My father] kicked me out at 18 and I didn’t come back home.”

Instead, he opted to stay with a friend and engaged in consistent employment to finance his education. From that day onward, he stopped communicating with his father. Finally, at the age of 29, he found marital bliss with a child on the way.

OP’s mother passed away at the time—a poignant event that brought about a series of unexpected encounters. Amid the atmosphere of mourning and reflection, his father made an appearance at his son’s home, bearing the weight of past grievances. It appeared to be an attempt at reconciliation for the turbulent upbringing that had marked OP’s formative years.

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Despite initial perceptions of genuineness, a lingering skepticism arose because OP’s dad had faced his own share of hardships. The closure of his convenience store seven years prior and the deterioration of his pension painted a complex backdrop to the situation.

In a moment that demanded honesty and clarity, the Redditor took the initiative to question his father’s motives for his visit. With a tone of desperation, his dad admitted his intentions—he sought a place to stay. OP, perhaps burdened by a mix of emotions from the past and the present, retreated momentarily into the house.

Upon returning, a sleeping bag was flung unceremoniously onto the lawn—an act loaded with the history of past rejections and a symbol of his dad’s actions. An essential facet of the narrative was inadvertently omitted in the initial retelling. Over time, the father had sought to make amends through sporadic financial offerings sent via mail.

These modest sums, accumulating to around $1500, remained tucked away in the recesses of OP’s closet, which he intended to return at his mother’s funeral reception. Upon the passing of his mother, his wife and friends reacted to his decision.

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