My DIL Laughed at the Pink Wedding Dress I Sewed for Myself – She Never Expected My Son to Step In

It’s funny how fast survival mode becomes a lifestyle.

Wake up. Work. Cook.

Fold laundry. Repeat. I can’t tell you how many nights I sat alone on the living room floor, eating leftover spaghetti and wondering if this was what the rest of my life would look like.

We didn’t have much, but I made it work.

My wardrobe? Mostly hand-me-downs from neighbors and donations from church. Every now and then I’d patch up old clothes or sew something new for Josh.

Sewing became my only creative outlet, my one little escape. My fingers learned to move with muscle memory, even when my heart felt too heavy to care. I dreamed of making something beautiful for myself, but never allowed the thought to go too far.

That felt selfish. And selfishness was never an option.

My ex had rules that seemed unspoken and then sometimes screamed: no white, no pink. “You’re not some silly girl,” he’d bark.

“Only brides wear white, and pink’s for little girls with no brains.”

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