**Diary Entry**
My son told me I wasn’t invited to his wedding. He tried to comfort me, promising they’d visit the next day with his wife and bring a cake.
When Jake was little—just six years old—his father simply vanished from our lives. One day he was there, the next, nothing but an empty doorway. I was left alone with a small child and a silent house where family warmth used to be. There was no support from anyone, so I became mother, father, provider, and rock—all in one. I worked double shifts, took odd jobs, pulled night shifts, and never allowed myself to fall ill. My only thought was to make sure Jake had everything—that he never felt less than the other children who had both parents.
I never thought of myself. Not once did I put my own life first. Sure, there were men. Some even asked me to build a life with them. But I couldn’t. I was afraid Jake would feel unwanted, that someone else might take my place in his heart. His love was enough for me—all my warmth, all my attention, my whole heart belonged to him. I lived for his interests, his triumphs, his laughter.
Jake grew into a handsome, bright, and remarkably polite young man. He got into university, graduated with honours, landed a good job, and became a confident man. And then came Emily. He told me about her after they’d been dating for six months. She seemed kind, well-mannered, but reserved—too reserved.
A few weeks after their last visit, Jake announced they’d decided to marry. I was overjoyed, like a child. I imagined picking out a dress, welcoming guests, hugging him before the registry office, congratulating his bride, all of us laughing and raising glasses together… Isn’t that one of the most important days in a mother’s life? Her child’s wedding?
But Jake kept avoiding the details. I kept asking—when was the date? Where would it be? What should I wear? Finally, he sighed and said,
*”Mum, there won’t be a wedding. We’re just signing the papers at the registry. No guests. No celebration. Just the two of us. That’s what Emily wants.”*
At first, I didn’t understand. No wedding? Without me? He explained that Emily didn’t want to spend money on an event—they were saving for their own place. If they invited anyone, they’d have to invite her family, and that would mean a big affair. If they invited everyone, it would cost too much. If they invited just me, it would be awkward. So, they’d decided to keep it just between them.
Then came the words that shattered me:
*”Mum, you’re not invited. If you come, there’ll be questions. We don’t want hurt feelings with Emily’s family. So please, just stay home.”*
I stood there in silence. Inside, it felt like a knife to the chest. How could this be? He’s my son. I gave him life, raised him, gave him everything. And on the most important day of his life—I have no place?
I offered to pay for part of the reception—my gift to them, small but heartfelt. They refused. Said their decision was final.
*”We’ll come round the next day, bring a cake, spend some time together—just us,”* Jake added softly. *”Like family.”*
Like family? Is this what family means now—cutting the mother out of the wedding as if she’s an afterthought? Where do all those years of worry, sleepless nights, and sacrifices fit in? How could it even cross his mind that I shouldn’t be there?
I don’t blame Jake. He’s not unkind. He’s just choosing peace. He doesn’t want to rock the boat, argue with his wife, or sour things with her family. His old family—mine—can wait. Even if it’s the one that gave him life.
My heart is breaking.
And yes, I don’t know how to face them with that cake. I don’t know whether to pretend to be happy or let them see the truth—that inside, there’s nothing but tears, hurt, and an empty seat at a wedding table where I should’ve been. His mum.
**Lesson learned:** Some sacrifices go unseen, and love doesn’t always guarantee a place where you think you belong.
