AITAH For Blocking My Friend On Their Wedding Day

I never thought I’d be that person. You know, the one who ghosts someone at the worst possible moment. But here I am, questioning whether I made the right choice when I blocked my childhood friend on their actual wedding day. Before you grab your pitchforks, let me explain how this nuclear option became my only escape from emotional manipulation.

The Friendship Foundation

Sarah (name changed) and I met in middle school when we were both awkward kids who loved fantasy novels. For over 15 years, we were inseparable – through high school drama, college meltdowns, and early career struggles. I was her person, the one she called at 3 AM after bad dates. She was my emergency contact when I moved cities.

But something shifted when she got engaged. Suddenly, our balanced friendship became entirely about her wedding vision. What started as excited planning sessions turned into daily demands for emotional labor.

The Bridesmaid Breakdown

When Sarah asked me to be maid of honor, I was touched. That warmth lasted exactly three days until the first unreasonable request: “Can you take two weeks off work to hand-make 200 origami centerpieces?” I politely declined, citing my job. Her response? “Real friends make sacrifices.”

Over six months, I:

• Spent $1,200 on dress alterations after she changed the color scheme twice
• Organized three bridal showers when she kept rejecting venues
• Became her 24/7 therapist during bridezilla meltdowns

The final straw? She demanded I pay for her bachelorette weekend in Vegas after I lost my job.

The Wedding Day Block

On the morning of the wedding, my phone blew up with 37 messages before 8 AM. The last one read: “If you really loved me, you’d convince your parents to give us their timeshare for our honeymoon.” That’s when I realized – this wasn’t about friendship anymore.

With shaking hands, I:

1. Sent a brief text saying I couldn’t participate in the transactional relationship
2. Blocked her number and all social media
3. Turned off my phone and went hiking to avoid the fallout

The Immediate Aftermath

Mutual friends informed me the wedding went on without me (shocking). The bride apparently had a meltdown during photos, claiming I “ruined her aesthetic” by not being there to fluff her train. Her new husband sent me a scathing email about loyalty, which I promptly archived.

What hurt most? Zero self-reflection from Sarah about why I might have reached my breaking point. Just pure outrage that her “help” (read: emotional punching bag) disappeared.

Was I Wrong?

Let’s be honest – blocking someone mid-ceremony is objectively dramatic. In hindsight, I wish I’d set boundaries months earlier instead of reaching a crisis point. But here’s why I don’t fully regret it:

• My mental health matters: I was having panic attacks from the constant demands
• It wasn’t sudden: I’d expressed concerns that were always dismissed
• The symbolism: Cutting the cord on our wedding day felt poetically fitting for how the friendship had died

Unexpected Silver Linings

Since that day, three beautiful things happened:

1. Other overextended friends reached out to share similar experiences
2. I rediscovered hobbies I’d abandoned to cater to Sarah’s drama
3. My therapist helped me recognize patterns of people-pleasing

Most surprisingly? Sarah’s cousin later confessed multiple bridesmaids had considered dropping out but were too afraid of her wrath.

Your Judgment Matters

So tell me honestly – was I the villain for choosing D-Day (literally) to make my exit? Could I have handled this with more grace, or was a clean break the only solution with someone who refused to respect boundaries?

Drop your verdict in the comments: Team “You Did What You Had To” or Team “There’s Never an Excuse for Wedding Day Ghosting”? If you’ve ever been in a similarly impossible friendship situation, I’d love to hear how you handled it.

And if you take nothing else from my messy story, please remember this: No friendship should cost you your peace, your finances, or your self-worth. Set those boundaries early, folks.