I’m a 28-year-old man with a twin brother. Growing up, we were inseparable. I was the shy, nerdy one, while he was outgoing and athletic. Despite our differences, we spent most of our time together—until college changed things.
He stayed in Arizona while I moved to Portland. I built a life there but always flew home for holidays and important family events. Last year, he announced his engagement. I congratulated him and asked for the date of the engagement party so I could book a flight. But I was never given one. My mom told me it was just a small family dinner and that I didn’t need to come.
Later, I found out they had rented an entire restaurant for four hours, with about 80 guests. Everyone had been told I couldn’t make it. When I said I was never invited, my family insisted it was a misunderstanding. Over time, the explanation kept changing—from “small gathering” to “miscommunication” to “it’s just a party.”
Christmas was tense, and my sister later told me moving away made me feel like I wasn’t really family anymore.
Months later, I got a wedding invitation but wasn’t included in the wedding party, and my long-term girlfriend wasn’t given a plus-one. Feeling unwelcome, I didn’t RSVP and didn’t attend.
On the wedding day, my mom called asking where I was. I calmly replied, “In Portland, where you all prefer me to be.”
