“I Sewed My Pink Wedding Dress at 60—My Daughter-in-Law Mocked It, But My Son Stepped In”

I held firm. “It’s blush, not bright. I wanted something special.”

She smirked. “You’re a grandma. Blue or beige, not bubblegum pink. It’s ridiculous.”

Lachlan stayed quiet, and my cheeks burned. I replied firmly, “It makes me happy.”

On the wedding morning, I looked in the mirror. The dress fit perfectly. My hair pinned, makeup light. I wasn’t just someone’s mom or ex—I was beginning anew.

At the hall, guests admired the dress. “So unique,” one said. “You look radiant,” added another.

Then Jocelyn arrived. Confident, loud, and smirking: “She looks like a cupcake at a kid’s party! All that pink…aren’t you embarrassed?”