The aunt who likes to take center stage

Everytime, all the time.

I really must take my hat off to an aunt of mine who loves, loves, loves to take center stage whenever, wherever and however. To her defence, she does come with a family disclaimer. Mother warned me early on in life that attention-loving aunt has been that way since they were young girls. So what? She's old, she should get over it! Most of us get over our childhood guises, why can't she? 

Aunt does not like being outshone, outdone and ousted from the queen bee pole, even if just for a day. Even on somebody else's wedding day. She will do everything in her power to make it known that the world revolves around her. Brace yourself should you forget this elementary truth!

Because I've grown up with her, and especially now that I'm more mature, I can sort of see the funny side of all of this. But I would be lying if I didn't admit that there are times when I so desperately want to tell her what for or hey lady, it's not your day! 

However (!), there is one golden rule in my family which perhaps helps to explain why look-at-me-aunt continues to behaves the way she does. I never understood why we have all blindly obeyed this rule since time immemorial. The rule is simple: absolutely no one, no matter the circumstance, must say or do anything to upset her. It is therefore fear of familial ostracisation that hinders me from giving her a piece of my mind. 


Instead, I blog about it. This way I get to vent without jeopardising the incredibly fragile ecosystem of my family. Hmm...


My aunt travelled from abroad to attend my wedding which is something she also did for my cousin's wedding and is about to do for my brother's . For my cousin's wedding, she insisted on paying for the flowers and attire for some of the bridal party. An absolutely generous gesture (!) since she had already spent a bit for international airfares and hotel accommodation just to be there for the wedding.

Then it started. 

You see my aunt is a generous person in lots of ways, especially when it comes to gift-giving, but with her gifts come strings. One of these is the right to comment. When I say right to comment, I mean the right to meddle in aspects of life of the person who is the current beneficiary of her generosity. This is what aunt actually goes about doing. For the most part, it's harmless but then it gets very tiring very quickly.

First came comments about the quality of the flowers. She wondered out loud why the bride's family did not host a welcome party for her when she arrived. Then she let it be known that she was very unhappy that the couple hadn't taken her out on the town. Mind you, she had arrived just one week before the wedding when, understandably, the couple probably had more pressing things going on. My mother who had also flown in from overseas to attend had to nurse her sister's wounded attention-seeking ego. 

What really sticks to me about aunt's antics during my cousin's wedding was her expressing disappointment about the church (she was part of the bridal party): "had I known that the aisle I'd be marching down such a short aisle, I wouldn't have worn a less expensive dress".

Yeah, exactly.

For my own wedding, my aunt had heard that I didn't want chair covers. They have always kind of freaked me out a little bit and I've never been overly fond of them.  When she heard, thanks to my anxious mother, that I  wasn't going to have chair covers, she told my mother to tell me that she would pay for them, adding that it wouldn't be a wedding without chair covers. Of course I thought this was complete BS but being a people pleaser (very, very sad  fact but true), I not only relented but declared that I would pay for them myself. Although I felt it was a waste of money, it wasn't as if it was going to stretch me.

Knowing my family's politics as I do, paying for everything for my wedding was the best tactical move I'd made in a long time. I said, sure, I'm going to incorporate your wishes because you're my relative and I respect you but because I'm paying, you rescind the right to further meddle, kapiz? 

Then she asked my mother to ask me when my future mother-in-law (FMIL) would be hosting a lunch or dinner party in her honour.  I don't think she understood that she wasn't actually a member of my immediate family and so my FMIL was under no obligation to do such a thing. I tried to explain this to her, to no avail of course. She said that she had come all the way, and if my FMIL hosted a lunch for my parents, why not for her and her husband? 


Why not, indeed?

Etcetera, etc, etc...

One of the first things  aunt asked me upon her arrival was who would be doing her hair and make up on the day. I'm sorry? was my bemused reaction. Come again? I didn't realise you were getting married! Then the little voice inside started to laugh. She didn't want to know who would be doing the bride's makeup. Oh no, she wanted to know who was doing hers. OMG! This lady's really something.

At 11:30 am of the wedding day, my aunt and mother turn up outside my hotel room to get their make-up done with me.  Mother goes first, gets her hair and make-up in under an hour. She wanted an updo. Fine, she's the mother of the bride. Then aunt takes her seat. She choses to have a fairly elaborate up-do as well which with the make-up takes an hour. It's already 1:30 pm. The wedding is at 4pm. My bridesmaid arrives with some sushi for lunch.
Around about now aunt decides that she would like a different hairstyle. So fine, the hairstylist redoes her hair. When she was finished, it was already 2:30 and neither myself nor my bridesmaid have had our hair or make-up done. And to think (no offence aunt) we were going to be the most photographed women that day. 

I wonder if my aunt had thought about me or my bridesmaid  at all? That we were actually a little bit more important than her on that day? Or that her niece, who had never thought she would get married, was actually bracing herself for the single most  significant (and stressful) social event of her life?

You've got to just have a good laugh and a glass or red.