n elaborate fake identity to trap him felt equally disturbing to me.

I kept asking myself: if you have to catfish the person you’re about to marry to feel secure in your relationship, should you even be getting married at all?

Equally, if you’re signing up for dating sites weeks before your marriage, why propose in the first place?

The more I thought about it, the more toxic it felt. Manipulative.

Like they were building their entire future on a foundation of secrets and tests and betrayal.

And that scared me more than I can tell you.

“Mom, please,” Jake said, sitting back on my couch. “It was just one mistake. We’ve moved past it.”

“Have you?” I asked him.

“Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you both crossed some serious lines. And neither of you seems to understand how much damage you’ve done to each other.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? Jake, your fiancée doesn’t trust you to be faithful to her, with good reason, it seems.

She set a trap for you, and you walked right into it. You can’t build a marriage on such unstable foundations.”

He was quiet for a long moment.

Then: “So you’re forbidding me to marry her?”

“No,” I said softly. “I’m not forbidding anything.

You’re adults. You can make your own choices. But I won’t bankroll a celebration for something I no longer believe in.”

Jake left soon afterward.

I felt terrible for what I’d done, but also lighter, as though a tremendous weight had lifted from my shoulders.

Then, I got hit by the backlash.

The thing is, some people in our family think I’m being dramatic.

My sister called me yesterday and said I was “destroying their big day over one mistake.” Alice’s mother suggested I was overreacting and that young couples go through rough patches all the time.

Maybe they’re right.

Maybe I am overreacting. Maybe Jake and Alice will grow from this experience and build something beautiful together despite this rocky start.

But right now, I can’t bring myself to write another check for this wedding.

It’s not about punishment or spite. It’s about values.

I raised Jake to be honest and faithful.

I taught him that trust is the foundation of any good relationship.

How can I celebrate a marriage that began with both partners betraying that trust?

“You’re making a mistake, Mom,” Jake said as he was leaving that day. “Alice and I love each other. That’s all that matters.”

Love.

Such a simple word for such a complicated thing. I love Jake more than life itself, which is exactly why I can’t pretend to support something I don’t believe in.

They can still get married. They can still have their beautiful garden wedding with string lights and perfect flowers.

I just won’t be the person funding it anymore.

And if that makes me the villain in this story, if that means I’m the mean future mother-in-law who ruined everything, then so be it.

I’d rather stand by my principles than throw money at a marriage built on secrets, traps, and betrayal. Because at the end of the day, I have to live with myself.

And I have to believe that sometimes love means saying no, even when it breaks your heart.

Source: amomama