My dad folded his arms, his face already flushing to that familiar shade I’d seen my whole life whenever I disappointed him.
“Your reasons?” he scoffed. “What reasons could you possibly have? Your sister is getting married, Taylor. Family shows up. That’s what family does. That’s what matters.”
I’m Taylor. I’m twenty-eight, and I work as an event coordinator for BrightFen Wealth, a mid-sized financial planning firm here in Louisville. For the past six years, I’ve built a career I’m proud of—planning conferences, corporate retreats, and celebration dinners that bring people together for meaningful moments. I organize events where families honor milestones, colleagues celebrate achievements, and loved ones show up for one another.
I understand better than most what it means to be present for someone. And I understand exactly how much it hurts when they aren’t.
My sister, Amanda, is twenty-five and works part-time at an upscale boutique downtown. She has been the golden child for as long as I can remember. In my parents’ eyes, everything she does is extraordinary. Every success is treated like a triumph. Every failure is met with endless patience and support.
When she announced her engagement to Jared three months ago, my parents reacted as if she’d been crowned royalty. They threw her an extravagant engagement party at their country club, helped her secure the most expensive venue in the city, paid for her dress without hesitation, and flooded social media with constant updates. Every day brought a new post celebrating Amanda’s perfect life, perfect wedding, and perfect future.
I smiled through it all—liking the posts, leaving the right comments—while my chest tightened every time I saw another announcement about her big day. Continue reading…
