My wedding day was supposed to be perfect. Dress on, makeup done, hair styled—everything ready. But then my future MIL, Linda, barged in “just to hug me,” chewing gum. One fake trip later, she had smeared pink gum deep into my braids, laughing and suggesting I cancel the wedding.
Forty-five minutes before the ceremony, I was in tears. Then Mark arrived. Calmly, he cut the gum out—ruining my hair, yes—but didn’t stop there. To show his mom what it felt like, he shaved his own head bald with trimmers. Linda screamed, cried, and stormed out.
I adjusted my veil to hide the gaps. It wasn’t perfect—but Mark held my hand, steady and fearless. We walked down the aisle together, our vows untouched, our day ours. The wedding wasn’t ruined—it was rewritten.