My name is Emily and I’m the youngest of five kids. My siblings, Mike, Chris, Rachel and Josh, were all so much older than me that sometimes I felt like I was part of a different family. By the time I was old enough to start forming memories they were already moving out, going to college or starting their adult lives. It was like I was an afterthought, a weird tag-along they had to put up with.
But even so, I loved them. When you’re the youngest kid you look up to your older siblings like they’re heroes. I thought Mike hung the moon when I was little.
He was the cool oldest brother who could do no wrong. Chris was quieter and more serious, but I still adored him. Rachel was my big sister, the one I always hoped would let me into her life and show me how to be like her.
And Josh, the baby of the older ones, felt the closest to me in age, but even he kept me at arm’s length. The first time it really hit me how I didn’t matter to them was Mike’s wedding. I was ten years old.
Ten is that weird age where you feel old enough to be included in grown-up things but still young enough to be treated like a child. When Mike and his fiancée Sarah announced they were having a child-free wedding, I assumed that didn’t mean me. I mean, I wasn’t some random kid who would throw food or scream during the vows.
I was his sister! I still remember the day my parents sat me down. I’d been so excited, I even asked my mom if I could wear one of her necklaces for the big day. That’s when she said it.
Mike and Sarah are having an adults-only wedding, Emily. You’re not going to be able to come. I stared at her for a second, trying to process.
But I’m not like other kids, I said, trying to reason with her. I’ll be quiet, I promise. She patted my head like I was some kind of puppy.
It’s just for adults, sweetie. You’ll understand when you’re older. I didn’t understand at all.
I cried in my room for hours. Mike was my brother, and I wanted to see him get married. I wanted to be there to watch Sarah, who I already thought of as my sister, walk down the aisle.
But instead, my parents left me with a babysitter. I remember the feeling of staring at the clock that day, imagining everything I was missing. When Mike came home from his honeymoon, I thought maybe he’d bring it up.
Maybe he’d say he was sorry I couldn’t come or tell me some funny story from the wedding. But he didn’t. He acted like I wasn’t even a part of it, like I wasn’t even worth acknowledging.
Two years later, Chris got engaged. I was twelve by then, and I thought things would be different. I was older, quieter, and very well behaved.
I didn’t whine or cause a fuss, and I made sure everyone knew it. So, when they said his wedding was child-free too, I thought, okay, but this time I’ll be invited. Nope.
Once again, I got the same speech. Chris and his fiancée want the wedding to be adults only, Emily. It’s not personal.
Not personal? It felt personal. How could it not be personal when it happened twice? I tried not to cry this time. I was older, and I wanted to act more mature.
I didn’t beg or scream. I just sat quietly while my parents made their excuses. My mom even tried to comfort me.
You’ll have your own wedding someday, and it’ll be wonderful, you’ll see. But it didn’t make me feel better. I was starting to realize something.
My siblings didn’t see me as family, at least not in the way I saw them. When Rachel got engaged, I was fifteen by then. I was a full-on teenager who wanted nothing more than to feel included.
At first, Rachel didn’t even plan on banning kids from her wedding. She wanted everyone to come, but of course the family had to get involved. My aunts and uncles kept saying things like, it’s so refreshing to have a wedding without kids running wild, and children just make things so chaotic.
Eventually, Rachel caved. The rule became no one under sixteen. I was fifteen, so close that it felt like a slap in the face.
I went to Rachel and asked, can I just be an exception? I’m your sister, I’ll be quiet, I promise. Rachel looked at me with this serious expression and said, if I make an exception for you, what about the other kids? It wouldn’t be fair. Fair? Are you kidding me? I lost it.
I started yelling, it’s not fair that I can’t go to any of your weddings. I’m not just some kid, I’m your sister. That’s when my parents got involved.