My parents divorced when I was 10. My dad remarried almost immediately afterward. That marriage lasted six years. He remarried again two years later—divorced within three. Now he’s onto his fourth marriage. I’ve honestly lost count of all the weddings, anniversaries, and family gatherings I’ve had to pretend to care about.
I (M, 24) don’t have a good relationship with his current fiancée. She’s polite, sure, but I don’t trust her. I’ve noticed a pattern with my dad: he falls in love quickly, often without taking time to really know someone or work on the previous relationship. Each time a marriage ends, it feels like he jumps to the next one without reflecting on why things failed. Growing up, I felt like I was constantly being introduced to a new “mom” figure, only to see them leave or fight with my dad months later.
When he announced this latest marriage, he asked me to be his best man. I politely declined, saying I didn’t feel comfortable. Later, after more thought, I told him I wouldn’t attend at all. He blew up. “Don’t you love me?” he demanded. “I can’t believe you’d skip this. Don’t you care about our family?” I tried to explain: “Dad, it’s not about not loving you. It’s about the cycle I’ve watched for years. I can’t celebrate something I don’t believe in.”
He doesn’t seem to understand that his constant whirlwind of relationships has affected me deeply. Growing up, I often felt secondary to the excitement of his new romances. “I just thought this one would be different,” I told him once, after a particularly messy breakup when I was 16. He shrugged and said, “Kelly, love is love. You’ll understand when you’re older.” I never did.
The father’s repeated quick-moving relationships create a pattern of emotional instability for the child. The child’s sense of trust and emotional security is repeatedly challenged, producing loyalty fatigue. OP’s refusal to attend is not rebellion—it’s a self-preservation strategy.
I’ve tried to have honest conversations. I said, “Dad, I want to be close to you, but these fast-paced relationships make it hard. I need to know you’ll put effort into something before asking me to celebrate it.” He waved it off: “I’m happy. Isn’t that enough?” But for me, happiness without reflection or stability feels hollow.
Even now, he texts me every few days: “You’re missing a big moment in my life. I thought you cared about me.” I reply gently, “I do care. I just can’t celebrate a pattern that’s hurt me for years. I’ll support you in other ways.” I try to balance love with honesty, but it’s exhausting.
At the end of the day, I feel torn. I want to respect my boundaries while maintaining a relationship with him, but I also feel guilty for skipping something that society says I “should” attend. Is that selfish? Or is it reasonable to prioritize emotional honesty over performative support?
AITA?
NTA. Attendance at weddings isn’t mandatory. If you can’t support it in good faith, don’t show up.
Exactly. Presence doesn’t equal support, especially when you feel drained by repetitive patterns.
ESH. He shouldn’t pressure you into best man duty, but cutting him off entirely feels harsh. A quick appearance might have been a compromise.
NTA – Compromise shouldn’t mean erasing your feelings for the sake of appearances.
YTA. He’s your dad. He wants you there for one of his life milestones. It’s not about the marriage—it’s about supporting him.
I get it—he’s made mistakes—but sometimes family loyalty is about showing up, even if it’s uncomfortable.
NTA. You’re not obligated to celebrate every relationship your dad jumps into. Honesty beats pretending.
ESH. You should attend. He should stop acting like a teenager
NTA. Fourth marriages are exhausting enough—why fake enthusiasm for a repeat performance?
NTA. If your dad wants validation, he’ll have to earn it. You’re allowed to protect your energy.
YTA – It’s one day to show up for your dad. You can stay in the back, avoid the spotlight, but being there matters to him.
ESH – Your dad shouldn’t pressure you, but refusing to attend entirely feels extreme. A compromise—attending the ceremony only—might satisfy both sides.
ESH – The dad is self-centered, you’re burned out, and everyone’s feelings are getting hurt unnecessarily.
YTA – You could have attended a ceremony or reception without pretending to be thrilled. A simple presence goes a long way.
ESH – He’s being unreasonable expecting full support, and you’re being rigid. A middle ground exists without betraying your feelings.
NTA – Attending in bad faith is worse than skipping. You’re protecting your own mental health.