Mom sent me one of my niece’s wedding photos today. She got married not long ago in Shanghai and all my relatives over there were up for the reception. The venue looked stunning in the photos, the bride was gorgeous and the couple seemed happy. I bet they had a grand wedding and had ball.

I saw so many familiar faces, including my cousins, their kids (officially they are my nieces and nephews) and my dad’s old brother. My two aunties all passed away. Otherwise my second oldest Aunt, whom I used to be very close to and the grandmother of the bride would have been very happy to see this.

However when looking at the photos, I had a very quick thought. Since this looks so nice, I can’t help asking myself “have I ever regretted that I didn’t have a wedding ceremony like that? ” I thought a while, then I felt that I did regret a bit. I remember we riding the bicycles to the marriage registration office on a bone-chilling day and talking to a 60yo boring lady sitting behind her desk like a still sculpture, and that was it, no wedding photos, no reception, no fancy feast, no relatives and friends for anything or at anywhere, and not even our parents ever met even till now. However, I asked myself “if I would ever get second chance to decide if I want something like this for my marriage, would I choose to have something like this?” My answer is still “no”. I guess I fancy this sort of luxury, but I probably would make the same decision of not having one.

However, there IS something I definitely had regretted, but sort of out of my control. That is BEING THE YOUNGEST OF THIS GENERATION. Look, I don’t get respect at all for so many years for being that. My oldest nephew, who is one year older than me, refused to call me aunt when he was 4; my nieces and nephews had been confused with the relationship between them and me and they thought I was their cousin. I had never got called aunt except by Yaya, my sister’s daughter

But why should I? I fought ugly with one of my nephew when he was 5 while I was 10, for some very unimportant thing (probably a pen, a rubber or a book) that I can’t remember now. I actually made him cry at the last and I was very harsh. Would you call me aunt if you have ever confronted me like that?