I had been engaged to Igor for almost a year now. Everything was perfect, except for one small but persistently nagging problem: his family.
From the very first meeting, they were cold to me. Sidelong glances, passive-aggressive phrases – the whole package. Apparently, I wasn’t the “right match” for their son, simply because I was a biologist who lived modestly. In their eyes, I didn’t fit the image of what they had hoped for in a daughter-in-law.
One afternoon, I found myself walking through the shopping center to pick up some last-minute wedding clothes. As I passed by a restaurant, I saw Igor’s parents sitting at a table with a young girl. Naturally, I waved warmly at them.
When they saw me, it was as if the world had stopped. They grimaced, and just as quickly, pretended not to know me. No greeting, no acknowledgment, nothing. It stung, but I kept my composure. What could I do?
But little did they know, in just a week’s time, they’d be the ones crawling to me, begging for my forgiveness.
A week passed, and it was time for the rehearsal dinner before the wedding. The moment had finally come – Igor’s parents would meet my family for the first time.
Their expressions were priceless. They approached us, smiling awkwardly, clearly unsure of what to do with their hands or where to look as they tried to “officially introduce themselves.”
I couldn’t help it – I smiled wide, watching them squirm just a bit. They were now the ones trying to make a good impression, but this time, I was in control.
As we exchanged pleasantries, I noticed them whispering among themselves, exchanging uneasy glances.
“I think they realized how bigly they messed up,” I thought, as I felt an unfamiliar, but satisfying, sense of power.
And as the evening went on, I knew deep down that I wouldn’t just be forgiving them. They were going to have to work hard to earn my respect, especially now that they’d seen exactly what they’d done.