Two days before my wedding, my passive-aggressive future MIL secretly replaced my blonde hair dye with neon green. She thought she\u2019d finally sabotage my \u201cunsuitable\u201d style, but she didn\u2019t count on one thing \u2014 my fianc\u00e9\u2019s unwavering loyalty and mischievous sense of revenge.\n\n\n\n

I\u2019d always known wedding planning would be stressful, but I never imagined I\u2019d end up looking like a punk rock reject two days before walking down the aisle.\n\n\n\n

The whole mess started during what I\u2019d dubbed \u201cWedding Week,\u201d when Linda dropped by our apartment unannounced almost every day to \u201chelp\u201d with last-minute details.\n\n\n\n

She\u2019d been picking at every decision since Ryan proposed, from the venue (\u201cOh, a backyard wedding? How\u2026 quaint.\u201d) to the menu (\u201cBuffet style? Well, I suppose some people prefer casual.\u201d) to the flowers (\u201cWildflowers? How\u2026 rustic.\u201d).\n\n\n\n

It was driving both of us insane, but Linda\u2019s passive-aggressive remarks made it impossible to confront her.\n\n\n\n

I\u2019d spent months carefully crafting what I thought would be the perfect intimate ceremony.\n\n\n\n

There would be string lights threading through the oak trees in my parents\u2019 backyard, and mason jars filled with freshly picked wildflowers. I\u2019d picked a dress that made me feel like a woodland fairy rather than a formal bride.\n\n\n\n

Everything was designed to reflect who Ryan and I really were, not who his mother wanted us to be.\n\n\n\n

A few days before the wedding, Linda perched on our secondhand couch like she was afraid it might bite her, scanning our living room with the same sour expression she always wore during these visits.\n\n\n\n

We\u2019d also had to shrug off numerous remarks about our decor choices since we moved in together. Linda always found something to pick on. Our wedding was just her latest bugbear.\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you sure you want to wear your hair like that for the wedding, dear?\u201d Linda\u2019s perfectly plucked eyebrows arched as she studied my ash blonde waves.\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour natural blond is quite pretty. And with your complexion\u2026\u201d She let the sentence dangle like a guillotine blade.\n\n\n\n

I forced a smile, gripping my coffee mug until my knuckles went white. \u201cYes, Linda. I\u2019m sure. It\u2019s close to my natural color anyway. I\u2019m only touching it up tomorrow at the salon, like I told you last week.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, it\u2019s your day, I suppose. Though I do wish you\u2019d consider that lovely upscale salon I recommended. The one where all my friends go.\u201d She sighed dramatically. \u201cA salon that lets you bring your own dye seems a bit\u2026 well, I understand budget constraints can be\u2026 limiting.\u201d\n\n\n\n

Ryan\u2019s voice echoed in my head: \u201cJust let it roll off, babe. She\u2019s trying to get a reaction.\u201d Easy for him to say \u2014 he\u2019d had thirty years to build up an immunity to her passive-aggressive venom.\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, would you mind if I used your powder room?\u201d Linda set down her barely touched tea.\n\n\n\n

I gestured toward the hallway, relief flooding through me at the brief reprieve. \u201cOf course. You know where it is.\u201d\n\n\n\n

She was in there longer than necessary, which should\u2019ve been my first clue something was up. When she emerged, her lipstick was freshly applied, and she was wearing that cat-that-ate-the-canary smile I\u2019d come to dread.\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, I should be going. So much to do before the big day!\u201d She air-kissed my cheeks, leaving behind the cloying scent of her designer perfume. \u201cDo try to get some rest, dear. Those dark circles under your eyes\u2026\u201d\n\n\n\n

The next day at my usual salon, everything started normally enough. Megan, my regular stylist, chatted about her latest drama series obsession while mixing the dye I\u2019d brought from home. We had a longstanding arrangement where I got a teensy discount for bringing my own dye.\n\n\n\n

The familiar chemical smell filled the air, mingling with the scent of shampoo and hairspray.\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo, final touch-up before the big day, huh?\u201d She grinned at me in the mirror. \u201cNervous?\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cAbout marrying Ryan? No way. About surviving his mother for the next forty years? Absolutely terrified.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cStill giving you grief about the wedding?\u201d Megan started sectioning my hair with practiced movements.\n\n\n\n

\u201cLet\u2019s just say if passive-aggressive comments were an Olympic sport, she\u2019d take gold.\u201d\n\n\n\n

I shifted in the chair, trying to get comfortable. \u201cYesterday she spent twenty minutes explaining why backyard weddings are \u2018charming in their simplicity.\u2019 Pretty sure that wasn\u2019t a compliment.\u201d\n\n\n\n

Megan laughed and then started applying the dye. We continued chatting, but she slowly became distracted. She kept frowning at the mixture, and her movements got slower and more hesitant.\n\n\n\n

\u201cUm, Sarah?\u201d Her voice wavered. \u201cAre you sure you want to do this color?\u201d\n\n\n\n

My stomach dropped. \u201cWhat do you mean? It\u2019s the same ash blonde I always use.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell\u2026 no.\u201d She grabbed a hand mirror and held it up behind my head.\n\n\n\n

The scream that came out of me probably scared half the clients right out of their chairs. Where my blonde hair should have been, electric green was bleeding into my strands like radioactive waste.\n\n\n\n

A shocked woman staring at her hair in the hair salon mirror | Source: Midjourney\n\n\n\n

I watched in horror as Megan frantically tried to rinse it, but the damage was done. My hair looked like freshly mowed AstroTurf.\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t understand,\u201d Megan muttered while examining the bottle I\u2019d brought. \u201cThis is definitely the dye you always use, but the color is certainly not right. It could be a manufacturing error, I guess\u2026\u201d\n\n\n\n

The memory of Linda\u2019s lengthy bathroom visit suddenly took on a sinister new meaning.\n\n\n\n

I drove home in a daze with my sunglasses on despite the cloudy day, praying it was just the salon lighting playing tricks. But my bathroom mirror confirmed my worst fears \u2014 I looked like the lovechild of the Joker and a highlighter pen.\n\n\n\n

That\u2019s how Ryan found me, curled up on the bathroom floor, mascara streaming down my face, surrounded by every hair product we owned as if one of them might magically contain the answer.\n\n\n\n

\u201cSarah? Babe, what\u2019s wrong? I got your texts and oh, my God!\u201d He stopped dead in the doorway, jaw hanging open.\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour mother,\u201d I choked out between sobs. \u201cShe must have switched my dye when she was in the bathroom yesterday. She\u2019s the only one who\u2019s been here, and she was in there forever.\u201d Fresh tears started falling. \u201cShe\u2019s finally done it. She\u2019s finally found a way to ruin everything.\u201d\n\n\n\n

Ryan\u2019s face hardened in a way I\u2019d never seen before. He kneeled beside me, pulling me into his arms.\n\n\n\n

\u201cHey, look at me. Nothing is ruined. You could walk down the aisle with purple polka-dotted hair and it wouldn\u2019t matter. You\u2019re still going to be my wife, and I still love you, no matter what you look like.\u201d\n\n\n\n

His voice then took on a hard edge. \u201cBut don\u2019t worry. Leave it to me. This is definitely Mom\u2019s handiwork, and I\u2019ll ensure she regrets this.\u201d\n\n\n\n

The next morning, Ryan called Linda over, his voice honey-sweet on the phone. When she swept in wearing her signature Chanel suit, her eyes widened theatrically at my appearance.\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, honey!\u201d Her hand flew to her chest. \u201cWhat happened to your hair?\u201d The corner of her mouth twitched.\n\n\n\n

\u201cCut the act, Mom.\u201d Ryan\u2019s voice could have frozen hell over. \u201cWe know you switched Sarah\u2019s hair dye.\u201d\n\n\n\n

Linda\u2019s face went through an impressive array of expressions \u2014 shock, indignation, innocence \u2014 before settling on wounded dignity.\n\n\n\n

\u201cReally?\u201d Ryan crossed his arms. \u201cYou\u2019re the only one who\u2019s been here, and the only one who would pull a stunt like this. Do you think I\u2019ve forgotten that time you put orange dye in Aunt Fran\u2019s shampoo?\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt was just a little joke,\u201d she muttered. \u201cI thought it might make her reconsider that awful blonde color. Really, dear,\u201d she turned to me, \u201cyou have to admit it wasn\u2019t doing you any favors.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cHere\u2019s what\u2019s going to happen,\u201d Ryan said, his voice deadly calm. \u201cYou\u2019re going to pay for every treatment it takes to fix this, or you can consider yourself uninvited from the wedding. And if you ever pull something like this again, you won\u2019t be welcome in our lives. Period.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd Sarah\u2019s going to be my wife. Time to decide what\u2019s more important to you: being right, or being part of our lives.\u201d\n\n\n\n

The day before the wedding, after three expensive and unsuccessful attempts to strip the green, I sat in our bathroom fighting back tears. Ryan walked in, hands held behind his back.\n\n\n\n

And that\u2019s how we ended up walking down the aisle with matching green hair, grinning like idiots while our guests tried desperately not to stare.\n\n\n\n

My dad nearly choked on his laughter when he saw us, and even my sobbing mother had to admit we looked \u201cuniquely us.\u201d Linda sat in the back row, looking like she\u2019d swallowed a lemon.\n\n\n\n

Sometimes the best revenge isn\u2019t getting even \u2014 it\u2019s showing the world that nothing, not even nuclear-waste-colored hair, can dim your happiness.\n\n\n\n

Here\u2019s another story: I was cradling my newborn son after an exhausting 36 hours of labor when my overbearing mother-in-law burst in and gave my husband, Ethan, a lavish present, claiming I\u2019d merely \u201cserved my purpose.\u201d Years of pent-up tensions boil over, forcing Ethan to choose sides. Click here to keep reading.\n\n\n\n