What on earth is that *country* dress? my sister humiliated me in front of everyone. My gift in return made her run away
Picture this. My sister, Emilyalways fashion-forward, thin as a rake, the picture of style. And me? Just an ordinary woman. Put on a few pounds here, got a wrinkle there. Well, life happens, what can you do?
Every time we met, it turned into a little torture. She probably didnt mean it maliciouslyjust helpful advice. Shed walk up, give me that X-ray stare, and start:
Sophie, darling, doesnt that dress make you look a bit frumpy? Its very *granny chic*.
Sophie, love, maybe try a different hairstyle? That one adds about five years.
Oh, girls, that lipstick! No ones worn that shade in *decades*!
And all with this sweet, pitying smile. As if she was doing me a favour. After every compliment, my mood would hit rock bottom, and I couldnt look in the mirror for a week.
Hurtful? You bet. Im no supermodel, and having my own sister constantly pick at my insecurities was the last thing I needed.
At first, I bit my tongue, laughed it off, changed the subject. But the final straw was Mums birthday party.
Id put so much effort into itnew dress, fresh blowout, makeup on point. Felt like a million quid, honestly.
We were all at the restaurant, family and friends dressed to the nines, everyone cheerful. Then Emily sidles up, eyes me head to toe, and announces loud enough for the whole room to hear:
Sophie, what *is* that dress? Its like something Aunt Mabel would wear to a village fête. You shouldve asked meId have picked something decent for you.
In that moment, the floor dropped from under me. Shed done it in front of *everyone*. Just spat in my face. What kind of party mood was I supposed to be in after that?
Something in me snapped. That was itno more turning the other cheek. Time for a taste of her own medicine. And lets just say Id come prepared.
I didnt make a scene. No need. Just took a deep breath, flashed my brightest smile, and cut her off mid-smirk.
Emily, darling! I said, voice dripping with sweetness. Thank you! I *so* appreciate your concern. Youre *such* an expert at pointing out flaws in others!
She practically glowed. Probably thought I was praising her. Bless.
Since youre *so* knowledgeable, I continued, picking up a gift-wrapped box Id brought, I got you a little something!
Everyone turned to watch. She tore into it, probably expecting perfume or fancy skincare.
Inside was a beautifully printed certificateon posh cardstock, no lessfor a session with a top psychologist. The topic? *How to Boost Your Self-Esteem Without Tearing Others Down.*
And of course, I read it aloudloud enough for the whole restaurant, the kitchen staff, even the bloke on the bus outside to hear.
Here you go, sis! I chirped as she gaped at me. Thought you might find this useful. Helps you feel *truly* confidentnot just by putting me down. As they say, *hit the nail on the head*!
The look on her facepriceless. First confusion, then realisation, then cheeks burning redder than a postbox.
The room fell silent. Then Uncle Geoff burst out laughingand the whole table followed. Every snide remark, every backhanded complimentlaid bare. Shed tried to embarrass me, and ended up the joke herself.
The finale? She muttered something, grabbed her bag, and bolted.
And before you askyes, we made up. Were sisters, after all.
But since that day? Not once has she criticised my appearance. Now its just small talk about the weather. And honestly? Its *lovely*.
There you have it. Thanks for sticking with me. If this struck a chord, give it a thumbs-upId appreciate it! And do share your own stories in the commentsever dealt with something similar? Pass it on to a mate if you fancy!
