**Diary Entry 12th May**
Our daughter was ashamed of our rural roots and didnt invite us to her wedding
She was embarrassed by us because we were from the countryside. My wife and I had always lived simply but honestlyour cottage, our vegetable patch, our cows, our worries. Every bit of our lives was spent raising our only daughter to be a good person. For her, wed have done anything. The finest things? Hers. New shoes? Of course. A coat so she wouldnt feel less than the city girls? Naturally. Wed go without, just so she had what she needed. She grew up bright and beautiful, top of her class, dreaming of city life. And we? We were happyour Emily was meant for more than wed had.
Through an old connection, I got her into a prestigious university in London, tuition-free. We were proud as if wed done it ourselves. We supported her however we couldwith words, with money. Every visit home was a celebration. Wed listen to her stories like they were fairy talesher office job, her well-to-do suitor, Edward, son of a businessman. She glowed when she spoke of him. All we could think waslet the wedding come soon.
But years passed without a proposal. One day, my wife couldnt hold back. Bring Edward home, lets meet him properly! Emily hesitated, made excuseswork, timing. Again and again. Our unease grew. Something wasnt right. So one day, we gathered our courage and went to London ourselves. We found her address in old letters, bought gifts, dressed in our best, and set off.
The house was grandbrick, glass, a doorman. A polite man led us inside. It was like something from a film. We stood there, unsure where to look, until we were shown to the sitting room. And there it was. On the table, a large wedding photo in a silver frame. In white, holding her bouquetour Emily. My wife turned to stone. I felt the floor vanish beneath me.
Why didnt you come to the wedding? Edward asked suddenly.
My wife and I exchanged a glance. What could we say? That we hadnt even known? Then she appeared. Emily. Her face fell, her lips trembled. With a gesture, I asked her to speak. At first, she stammered excuses, then the truth spilled out:
I didnt invite you because youre from the country. I was ashamed. I didnt want anyone to know my parents were farmers.
Those words cut deeper than a knife. *Ashamed?* Of us? After all wed given up for her? After all the years wed worked just to give her a future?
And Edward? I managed. Did he know?
Yes. He wanted you there. He even sent an invitation, but I told him youd refused
There it was. We were her secret shame. She hadnt even given us the chance to be there on the most important day of her life. No word, no explanation. Just erased.
We left that same day. No tears, no shoutsjust emptiness. How do you go on when your own child turns her back on you? How do you believe any of it mattered? That you didnt raise a stranger?
Emily hasnt called since. Nor have we. Not out of bitternessjust pain. What do you say to someone who betrayed you so easily?
**Lesson learned:** Love isnt measured in sacrifices, but in respect. And sometimes, the ones you give everything to are the first to forget it.
