Whats this village dress? my sister humiliated me in front of everyone. My gift in return made her run away…
Picture this: my Katya is a fashionista, always slender as a reed, so stylish. And me? Just an ordinary woman. A little curvier here, a wrinkle there. Life goes on, what can you do?
Every meeting with her became a tiny torture. Maybe she didnt mean harm, just had the best intentions. Shed come over, scan me with her X-ray eyes, and start:
“Sveta, oh, doesnt that dress make you look wider? Its so granny-ish.”
“Sveta, you need a different hairdothis one adds five years.”
“Oh, girls, that lipstick! No ones worn that shade in a decade!”
All with a sweet, pitying smile. Hows that for kindness? Like shes doing me a favor. And after every compliment, my mood would sink, and I couldnt face a mirror for a week.
Hurtful? Extremely! Im no magazine cover as it is, and now my own sister keeps hitting where it hurts.
At first, I bit my tongue, joked, changed the subject. But the last straw was Moms birthday.
I prepared so hard! Bought a gorgeous new dress, styled my hair, did my makeup. Felt like a queen, honestly!
Were all at the restaurantrelatives, guests, everyone dressed up and cheerful. And then Katya comes over, eyes me head to toe, and announces loudly for all to hear:
“Sveta, what is this dress? Tragic. Like something Aunt Shura would wear from the village. Shouldve asked meId have picked something decent.”
In that moment, the floor vanished beneath me. She did this in front of everyone! Just spat right in my soul. Hows anyone supposed to stay festive after that?
Thats when I snapped. Enough! No more silence. Now its my turn. And girls, Id prepared *very* well for this birthday.
No scene, thoughwhy bother? I took a deep breath, flashed my sweetest smile, then cut it short mid-grin.
“Katya!” I said brightly. “Thank you! I *so* appreciate your concern! Youre such an expert at spotting flaws in others!”
She beamed, probably thinking I was praising her. Sweet, naïve girl.
“Since you know *everything*,” I continued, picking up a box Id prepared earlier, “I got you a gift!”
Eyes turned our way. I handed her the ribbon-tied box. She tore into it, likely expecting perfume or makeup.
Inside, girls, was a beautifully printed certificate on fancy paperfor a session with a top psychologist. The topic? *How to Build Self-Esteem Without Tearing Others Down.* And of course, I read it aloudloud enough for the whole restaurant, the kitchen, even the bus driver passing by!
“Here, sis!” I added as she gaped at me. “Thought youd need this. Helps you feel confident *without* using me as a stepping stone! Bullseye, right?”
You shouldve seen her face! First confusion, then realization, then cheeks burning so red its indescribable.
Silence fell. Then an uncle burst out laughing. Soon, everyone joined. All her little jabs? Out in the open. Tried to shame meended up the joke herself.
The finale was instant. Katya muttered something, grabbed her bag, and bolted.
And yeswe made up. Were sisters, after all.
But guess what? Since then? Not *one* comment about my looks. Just weather talk now. And honestly? Its nice.
Thats my story. Thanks for reading! If you liked it, hit that likewarms my heart! Share your own stories belowever been through something similar? And if you tag a friend? Even better!
