25/10/2025
I'm 65, and I'm getting married for the second time. Ten years ago, my husband passed away, and I never thought I would get married again. Was it even possible to meet someone at my age?
But then I met Henry — kind, gentle, and patient. When he proposed, we decided to have a small wedding.
All I wanted was to wear a beautiful, elegant dress.
One morning, I walked into a bridal boutique, my heart fluttering with excitement.
Two young consultants were chatting behind the counter.
One, a tall brunette with sharp features, crossed her arms.
The other, a blonde with long nails, looked me up and down and asked:
"Are you looking for a dress for your daughter… or your granddaughter?"
"No," I said quietly. "For myself."
The brunette's eyebrows shot up.
"Oh my God. YOU'RE THE BRIDE? IS THIS A JOKE?"
Her coworker laughed and added:
"I didn't even know we made dresses for… RETIREMENT-AGE BRIDES."
Then she handed me some dresses:
"Here, take these. The fitting room is on the right."
When I stepped out in one of the dresses to spin in front of the mirror, the tall brunette muttered:
"Maybe bridal gowns AREN’T YOUR thing — we’ve got plenty of grandma outfits in the back."
The blonde laughed.
"You can't be serious! You're way too old for these dresses, aren't you? GRANDMA, YOU LOOK RIDICULOUS."
They laughed so cruelly and loudly. Tears welled up in my eyes.
Suddenly, someone tapped them on the shoulder. The consultants turned around.
A SHARP SILENCE filled the room.
Behind them stood my daughter.
Their faces turned pale when they saw THE FURY IN MY DAUGHTER'S EYES. ⬇️⬇️⬇️