There are Bridezillas, and then there are… whatever this is. There are brides who are picky about dress colors, and then there are brides who are picky about whether their guests get to, you know, remain conscious during the reception. This is a story about the second kind, and it is a wild ride of “health nut” superiority and breathtaking entitlement.
Our narrator is a 20-year-old woman with a very serious medical condition: hypoglycemia unawareness. This means her blood sugar can drop without her knowing, and she can pass out. To prevent this, she has a medical alert service dog named Angel, a Dobermann. Angel is not a pet; he is a trained medical device who has literally saved her life multiple times.
Her 26-year-old cousin, “Chloe,” is the bride. And Chloe is a “health nut.” We’re talking the “no sugar, no fat, no carbs” kind. The kind who probably thinks kale can cure a broken leg.
Now, our narrator isn’t just a guest at this wedding. She is a crucial part of it. She made the slideshow. She is in charge of all the music, which is on her laptop. She has to be there.
This is where the trouble starts. Chloe knows all about her cousin’s medical issues, but she still asked her not to bring Angel. Why? Because he’s a “scary” breed and her toddler is afraid of big dogs. A classic “my kid’s comfort vs. your life-saving medical equipment” showdown.
So, the narrator, being a reasonable human, offered a very simple, logical compromise: “I have to either be provided with sugar all night, in the form of several soft drinks or candies, or I will bring Angel with me along with my own sugar.” Simple, right?
And Chloe’s response? This is the moment she goes from “picky bride” to “absolute villain.” She told her, “Fine, but you can live without junk for one night.”
“Junk.” She called her cousin’s literal medicine “junk.” She didn’t just misunderstand; she actively dismissed a life-threatening medical condition as a “bad habit.” This is not a “simple mistake.” This is a f*cking insult.
So, the morning of the wedding, the narrator gets the menu. And, surprise! It’s a sugar-free wasteland. No sugar. At all. Not in the carbs, the sweets, the drinks, or even the cake. And at the bottom, a note: “NO EXCEPTIONS.”
This wasn’t an oversight. This was a trap. Chloe, in her wellness-obsessed, human-shaped-piece-of-kale wisdom, had decided to forbid her cousin’s medicine from the premises.
So what does our hero do? She does what she has to do to survive. She packs her own gummy candies and she harnesses up Angel. She is discreet. She sits in the back. No one even notices Angel at the ceremony.
She gets to the reception, sets up her music, and guess what? Angel alerts several times while she’s setting up. He’s already done his job. He was necessary.
Then Chloe arrives. She sees Angel. Her toddler, who is scared of big dogs, starts to cry. This is sad, but also, not the narrator’s fault. And Chloe freaks out. Before the first dance, before the slideshow she’s supposed to be running, Chloe is at her music stand, screaming.
And she’s not just screaming, “my kid is scared!” She’s screaming that her cousin is “selfish,” that she “could have gone one night without having to be the centre of attention,” and—this is the kicker—that she “could be healthy for once and not eat so much sugar.”
And then she kicked her out. She kicked out the girl with the medical condition, the girl she refused to feed, and the girl who was in charge of the entire night’s music and slideshow.
But the entitlement doesn’t stop there. Chloe then sent a nasty email demanding her cousin pay her back for the “missing slideshow and the music.” The slideshow and music that were a wedding gift. The slideshow and music that Chloe prevented from being played.
So, is she the ahole? My god, no. N-T-A. You are not the ahole. You feel bad you made her toddler cry. You are the only person in this story with a single shred of empathy. Your cousin is a monster. She didn’t just “ruin” her wedding; she actively tried to create a dangerous medical situation for you and then blamed you for surviving it.
I do not think you are an a-hole for bringing your service animal to your cousin’s wedding. I also do not see how cousin views this as you attempting to be the center of attention. If anything, Chloe drew more attention to you and Angel than you could have drawn to yourselves. It seems to me you were trying your dead-level best to fly under the radar and simply keep yourself from passing out. Does Chloe genuinely believe you brought Angel for attention? Moreover, does she believe that you passing out during her wedding ceremony would draw less attention than having your service animal present? It is appalling that Chloe believes you are just being unhealthy because you need snacks/foods with glucose. She clearly is not as informed about nutrition as she believes herself to be. Cousin Chloe is the a-hole here. Her actions caused the scene, not yours. OP, you are definitely not the a-hole here.