Ariel’s introduction to Suki, the newly appointed Assistant Editor of Offbeat Wed, sets the stage for a thought-provoking discussion on cultural differences in wedding expectations. As a child of immigrants with parents from Southeast Asia, Suki shares her unique perspective on family dynamics and their impact on special occasions like weddings. Born and raised in America to Thai-Cambodian parents, Suki’s experiences navigating two cultures are relatable to many first-generation Americans.

She highlights the challenges that arise when cultural norms clash, creating a rich tapestry of stories and emotions.

My immigrant parents refused to attend our wedding.

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When my engagement was announced, my parents’ response was unprecedented. They declared that they no longer considered me their daughter and went so far as to forbid our extended family from attending the ceremony. In Thai and Cambodian cultures, where family dynamics are often heavily influenced by seniority, this kind of rejection is a powerful statement. The fact that I’m an adult with my own life choices only made it more jarring.

As a child of immigrants, I’ve had my fair share of cultural clashes with my parents. There was the time I chose to major in theatre and they cut me off for four months. Those phrases – ‘We’ve sacrificed so much for you’ and ‘You’re not my daughter anymore’ – were familiar refrains. But this situation was different. My parents had always been strict, but refusing to acknowledge my engagement or attend our wedding? That was a new level of disconnection.

With no cultural guidance or support system in place (I live in an area where the Asian community is sparse), I felt lost and without direction. There’s no self-help book or life hack that can prepare you for this kind of scenario.

…So naturally I went to the internet for answers.

5 ways to cope when your parents won’t attend your wedding

As I embark on creating the guide that would have been invaluable to me during my own journey, I aim to provide a comprehensive resource for first-generation children of immigrants who find themselves planning a wedding without their parents’ blessing.

While my experiences are deeply rooted in my Thai-Cambodian American heritage, I envision this guide being a valuable tool for anyone navigating the complexities of family dynamics and cultural traditions as they prepare to take the next step in their lives.

Find a therapist with a similar cultural background.

Before dismissing therapy as an option, let me share my personal experience. As someone who initially thought therapy was out of reach due to financial constraints and lack of culturally competent therapists, I eventually realized the importance of professional guidance during life’s stressors – including wedding planning. The mental health industry often seems dominated by older white men, leaving many feeling like they can’t afford it.

However, I’m here to tell you that therapy is an investment worth considering.

Just as your car needs regular maintenance to run smoothly, your mental well-being requires attention and care. Therapy helps you develop coping mechanisms and learn how to handle family drama or other stressful situations. Unfortunately, many BIPOC individuals and children of immigrants face shame from their families for seeking therapy, viewing it as ‘weak-minded.

‘ But I firmly believe that whether you’re dealing with cultural family dynamics or simply want to prioritize your mental health during wedding planning, a therapist can be an invaluable asset.

In hindsight, I wish I had budgeted for therapy earlier in my own wedding planning process. It’s not just about getting through the wedding day; it’s about investing in yourself and setting yourself up for long-term mental wellness.

Your friends aren’t your therapists.

As you navigate your wedding planning experience, it’s likely that you’re not the only one struggling with the emotional weight of disapproving parents. Your partner might also be dealing with their own set of challenges, and it’s essential to recognize that they aren’t you. They didn’t have your upbringing, your experiences, or your relationships. This realization can be a powerful catalyst for change.

For instance, my Maid of Honor is a first-generation Indian American who has faced similar struggles with her immigrant parents. When my own parents refused to attend my wedding, she offered me comfort and support. I poured out my emotions to her daily, and she listened attentively. Similarly, my partner’s friends and family were doing their best to be supportive, but they couldn’t fully comprehend the depth of our emotional pain.

It wasn’t until I realized that I was placing an unfair burden on those around me that I began to seek professional help. My therapist helped me work through my emotions, gain clarity, and develop healthier coping mechanisms. This journey was crucial for my personal growth and allowed me to become a better partner and friend in the long run.

Allow yourself to grieve.

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My therapist’s words, ‘Let yourself grieve,’ resonated deeply after our first session together. The pain of losing parental support, cherished memories, and the anticipated experiences we had always envisioned as a family was palpable. As I navigated this challenging period, I allocated 10-15 minutes daily to surrender to my emotions. Journaling, crying, and acknowledging my hurt became an integral part of my self-care routine.

The grief I carried was multifaceted – the regret of not being able to wear my mother’s traditional Thai wedding dress, the disappointment in missing out on cultural traditions with dear monks, and the longing for a family gathering to prepare the rehearsal dinner menu. When the time allocated for grieving passed, I shifted focus to something that genuinely excited me. This deliberate effort allowed me to confront my pain, ultimately paving the way for forward momentum.

To do so, I created an Instagram Story Highlights series titled ’50 days,’ where I documented one thing I was looking forward to in the 50 days leading up to our wedding.

It’s not your fault.

In many patriarchal cultures, the pressure to cater to the needs of one’s family is a common phenomenon. This expectation can be particularly pronounced in families where cultural or ancestral heritage plays a significant role. The guilt and shame that come with prioritizing one’s own happiness are not unique to children of immigrants; indeed, it’s a universal experience that transcends cultures.

When faced with the reality of parental disapproval, many individuals are left wondering what they did wrong. It’s as if their choices are seen as a personal affront to the family collective. But here’s the crucial takeaway: it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything to deserve the rejection you received. Your idea of happiness is valid and distinct from that of others, including your parents.

The generational trauma that has shaped your family’s dynamics is a heavy burden to carry, but it’s not yours to bear alone. And let’s be clear: the hurtful decisions made by your family are theirs to own, not yours to apologize for. As someone who may never meet you in person, I want to instill in you the conviction that you deserve happiness and fulfillment, regardless of how others choose to react.

Surround yourself with enough love to fill the ocean.

As my wedding day arrived without my family’s presence or approval, I feared that the absence would leave a gaping hole of shame, embarrassment, and loneliness in my heart. But with the effort to seek therapy, grieve, and remind myself that it wasn’t my fault, I slowly began filling that void. By the time our special day rolled around, the hole was still present but no longer felt overwhelming.

A friend once shared wise words with me: ‘What makes a wedding perfect is the person you’re marrying and the love you receive from those there for you.’ It’s in this spirit that we were showered with an abundance of love on our wedding day – a love that poured in like water filling up an empty space.

In my family’s absence, my 10 bridesmaids stepped in to help me get ready, my friends and sister-in-law took turns making heartfelt speeches, and my husband coordinated a delicious Thai feast to satisfy my cravings. I initially thought not having my family there would diminish the experience, but through my healing journey and reframed expectations of what family means, I chose to focus on the unconditional love that surrounded me.

As a result, our wedding was more than I could have ever hoped for – it exceeded every expectation and left an indelible mark on my heart.

So, I got married. And, spoilers: my parents UN-disowned me.

As I gazed out at the sea of faces before me, I felt an overwhelming sense of joy and love. The room was alive with the vibrant energy of my chosen family, friends, and community, all gathered to celebrate our love. Despite the absence of biological ties, I felt seen, supported, and empowered by this multicultural gathering. Our wedding was a testament to the beauty of unconventional relationships and the power of building one’s own support system.

To my fellow BIPOC and children of immigrants

What I’ll say instead is that embracing the in-between phase, where your cultural background blends with your own personal identity, can be a profoundly liberating experience. It’s a space where you’re free to forge your own path, unencumbered by the expectations of others. And at its core, it’s about cultivating a sense of self-love and acceptance that knows no bounds – capable of filling even the vastest of oceans with warmth and light.