My wife hasn’t been able to walk since she was a child.
It’s never defined her.
She’s brilliant, kind, and stronger than anyone I know.
Recently, my family invited us to dinner to celebrate my sister’s upcoming wedding.
Everything seemed fine—until my sister pulled me aside.
She said she didn’t want my wife attending the wedding.
Her reason?
She wanted me beside her the whole time and didn’t want me “carrying my wife around.”
I was stunned.
Then my parents joined in.
They said I should’ve married another woman—someone “normal”—instead of choosing a “burden.”
That word hit harder than anything else.
I stood up, looked them all in the eye, and told them the truth.
My wife was never the burden.
Their lack of compassion was.
I told them we wouldn’t be attending the wedding—and until they learned respect, they wouldn’t be part of our lives either.
The room went silent.
We left together.
I carried my wife out proudly, head held high.
And for the first time, I knew I had chosen the right family.
