Amira's Story
I missed my own sisters wedding
“When I was in a placement in a small rural town, far over the mountains from where I grew up, an invitation arrived. My oldest sister was getting married by the beach, a huge day for our family and my sisters and I were invited!
The beach was always a place of fun and freedom for us. I could picture her in her dress, waves crashing behind her, everyone laughing and celebrating together. I wanted so badly to be there.
When I told my caseworkers, they didn’t give me an answer. They said they needed to talk to my sister first. The wedding was months away, but the usual ‘wait for word from the caseworkers’ took weeks.
I don’t even really know when they asked her or what was really shared or planned.
Eventually though the news was given to us, our sister was told us girls could attend but only if our father wasn’t invited. It was an awful ultimatum to throw at her, while she was already trying to plan a wedding. She had invited all of us without hesitation. It never crossed her mind that caseworkers could decide who “belonged” at her own wedding.
In the end, she chose to have our dad there. He was her dad too, the man expected to walk her down the aisle. From what I’ve been told, he behaved himself that day. But I wouldn’t know. Because I wasn’t there.
I was 12 or 13 at the time. Old enough to feel the weight of missing it, young enough for it to really sting. Missing that milestone didn’t just mean missing the wedding… it meant missing a chance to grow closer with my sisters and brothers, to share a memory we should still be talking about now.
Looking back, what hurts most isn’t only the day itself. It’s how decisions were made around me, not with me. How something so beautiful could turn into another reminder that I didn’t have a say.
- Amira’s story, a young person with lived experience of the child protection system (name changed to protect privacy).