When my cousin Brandon hired me as the photographer for his wedding for next to nothing, he thought he was getting a bargain. By the end of the night, I gave him and his fiancée a keepsake they would never forget. And it wasn’t the kind you want to frame.
I never thought my love for dogs would lead me into the biggest family drama of my life. But here we are.
I’m Alice, and I’ve been a professional dog groomer for five years.
For me, it’s not just a job. It’s my passion.
A dog groomer brushing a dog | Source: Pexels
There’s something magical about transforming a scruffy, anxious puppy into a confident, beautiful dog. The before-and-after photos are amazing, and that’s where my love for photography started.
Every client gets the full treatment. When I finish grooming, I take professional-quality photos of each dog.
Honestly, over the years, I’ve gotten pretty good at it. The lighting, the angles, the timing… it’s all part of my brand.
A camera | Source: Pexels
I post the polished results on Instagram and have gained a good number of followers. Dog owners love seeing their babies look like models, and I love making them feel special.
But here’s the problem with being decent at photography: people always assume a camera equals “photographer.” My family especially loves to praise my “incredible talent” every time they see my Instagram posts.
“Alice, you have such talent!” my aunt would say at family gatherings. “These photos look like they’re from a magazine!”
I always took it as a compliment. I mean, who doesn’t like hearing they’re good at something? That was until my cousin Brandon got in touch.
A man standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney
Brandon is my aunt Sarah’s son, and we’re not very close. We see each other at Christmas dinner and maybe at a birthday party. Pleasant conversations, but nothing deep. He’s always been one to charm his way through life, and honestly, I never paid much attention to him.
So when Brandon and his fiancée Maya got engaged last spring, I was surprised when they suddenly reached out to me.
A phone on a table | Source: Pexels
“Alice! We love your work,” Maya told me on the phone. “You have so much talent with the camera. And listen, right now we don’t have the budget for a professional photographer.”
My stomach dropped a little. I already knew where this was going.
“It would mean a lot to us,” Brandon added. “It’s just for a few hours. And we’ll pay you. Like $250.”
$250? I thought. That’s nothing for a wedding.
A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
“Guys, I really appreciate you thinking of me, but I’m not comfortable photographing weddings,” I said. “I photograph dogs, not people. Definitely not once-in-a-lifetime events with no room for mistakes.”
But Maya kept insisting. Her voice had that tone that makes you want to hang up the phone.
“Come on, Alice. Anyway, you already spend your days taking photos. It’s not that different. And honestly, we can’t afford anyone else right now. You’d be saving us. Family helps family, right?”
That night, I sat at the kitchen table with my dad, picking at leftovers of Chinese takeout.
A close-up of noodles | Source: Pexels
Dad and I have always been very close.
He’s been my best friend since Mom passed away when I was 22. We talk about everything—and I mean everything.
“Brandon and Maya want me to photograph their wedding,” I told him, explaining the whole conversation.
Dad put down his chopsticks and looked at me thoughtfully. “$250 for a whole wedding? That’s very little, honey.”
A man at a table | Source: Midjourney
“I know, right? But they say they don’t have more money.”
“Well,” Dad said slowly, “they’re family. And if they really have money problems, maybe it’s something you could do as a favor. After all, Brandon is your cousin,” he paused. “But it’s totally up to you, Alice. Don’t let anyone pressure you into doing something you’re not comfortable with.”
I liked that Dad didn’t pressure me at all. He just laid out the facts and left the decision to me.
That night I went to bed feeling torn. Part of me wanted to help family, but another part knew I was getting myself into trouble.
An apartment window at night | Source: Pexels
The next morning, I stared at my phone for ten minutes before finally sending a message to Brandon and Maya.
“Okay, I’ll do it. But I want to be clear. I’m a dog groomer, not a wedding photographer. I’ll do my best, but no guarantees.”
Maya’s response was immediate. “THANK GOD!!! You’re amazing! This is going to be perfect!”
In the weeks leading up to the wedding, I tried to prepare. I watched YouTube tutorials about wedding photography, practiced with different lighting setups, and even bought a spare battery for my camera.
Camera accessories in a bag | Source: Pexels
I wanted to do the right thing, even if the pay was insulting.
But what they didn’t tell me was that they had money. They were just being stingy. I found that out on the wedding day.
The wedding venue was beautiful. Brandon and Maya had rented a gorgeous hall with high ceilings and elegant décor. When I arrived that Saturday at 11 a.m., I couldn’t help but notice the elaborate floral arrangements everywhere. Hundreds of white roses and peonies. The kind that cost a lot of money.
Floral arrangements | Source: Pexels
“Those flowers must have cost a fortune,” I said to Maya’s maid of honor while setting up my equipment.
“Oh yeah,” she laughed. “Maya spent like three grand just on flowers. And don’t get me started on the custom cocktail menu. They even hired a special bartender just for the signature drinks.”
Three thousand on flowers? I thought. Custom cocktails? But they couldn’t pay for a real photographer?
From 11 a.m. on, I was working non-stop. Maya made me photograph every tiny detail—her hairstyling, makeup session, jewelry laid out on the bed, her shoes and dress from 15 different angles.
A bride’s dress and shoes | Source: Pexels
“Make sure to photograph the back of the dress too,” Maya ordered me from the makeup chair. “And the details on the sleeves!”
“Got it,” I said, trying to keep my professionalism.
But Maya barely acknowledged my efforts. Instead of thanks, she barked orders all day.
“Don’t shoot from that angle, my arms look fat!”
“Why are you following me? Take the photo from the balcony.”
“Make sure to take lots of pictures of ME. We don’t need so many from Brandon’s family side.”
“Ugh, crop out my mom if you can. She wore the wrong dress.”
Every command felt like a slap.
A camera on a tripod | Source: Pexels
By 4 p.m., I was exhausted.
The hall had no air conditioning, and with over a hundred guests inside, the temperature must have been around 110 degrees. My shirt stuck to my back, my feet were killing me, and I hadn’t had a sip of water.
No one had offered me a seat, much less any refreshments. While everyone else enjoyed cocktail hour, I was crouched behind some bushes taking “sneaky” photos of guests mingling.
Aerial shot of drinks | Source: Pexels
At 5 p.m., when the catering staff began bringing out dinner, the smell of barbecue and freshly baked bread made my stomach growl loudly. I quietly approached Brandon.
“Hey, I’m starting to feel faint,” I said. “I just need twenty minutes to eat and drink something.”
Brandon looked at me with complete seriousness. “You’re working, Alice. Photographers don’t eat at weddings. If you want to eat, your shift is over.”
A man at his wedding | Source: Midjourney
Maya appeared beside him. “If it’s too hard for you, maybe you should stick to dog photos.”
I couldn’t believe what I just heard.
“You’re telling me I can’t eat, drink, or sit down?” I asked, raising my voice. “And you still expect me to work the rest of the night?”
“You’re being dramatic, Alice,” Maya rolled her eyes. “$250 is generous for someone who’s not even a real photographer.”
That was it. That was the moment something inside me broke.
The face of a woman | Source: Midjourney
I looked around the room and saw a few guests watching our exchange.
An older couple, friends of Brandon’s parents, gave me a pitying smile. Another woman whispered as she passed by.
“Honey, you don’t deserve this. Go take care of yourself.”
Her kindness almost made me cry right there. But instead, I turned to Brandon and Maya and asked them one last time.
“Are you absolutely sure you want me to keep going like this? No food, no water, no breaks?”
Brandon nodded firmly.
A man looking forward | Source: Midjourney
“Or you can leave if you can’t 
take it,” Maya shrugged.
So I pulled out my camera in front of them and all their guests. Then, I started deleting files.
I deleted every single photo I had taken that day. Every one. They disappeared.
Maya’s eyes went wide. “Alice! What are you doing?”
“Exactly what you told me to do,” I said calmly, still deleting. “I’m leaving because I can’t stand my own family treating me like garbage.”
A woman holding a camera | Source: Pexels
“WHAT THE HELL?!” Maya screamed. “YOU RUINED MY WEDDING!”
At that moment, the music stopped and everyone in the hall turned to look at us.
“PSYCHOPATH! YOU OWE US SO MUCH!” she kept shouting.
Brandon was in shock, unable to speak.
I finished deleting the last photo and took out the memory card. I handed it to Brandon with a smile.
“You offered me $250 to work like a dog with no food, water, or basic human respect. Well, congratulations! I’m no longer your photographer.”
A woman walking away | Source: Midjourney
The silence behind me was deafening, only broken by Maya’s continued wails about her “ruined” wedding.
My phone started buzzing even before I reached the car. I received many texts from wedding guests.
“I’m glad for you. I saw how she treated you. Don’t feel bad for a second.”
“You deserved so much better. No one should be treated like that, family or not.”
“We were all rooting for you. Honestly, I wish I could have walked out too.”
“You had guts. Maya brought this on herself.”
The messages kept coming all night.
A phone on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Apparently, Maya cried so much that “she ruined her false eyelashes” and spent the rest of the reception in the bathroom. She called me a “traitor” to anyone who would listen and hasn’t spoken to half the family since.
Brandon tried calling me the next week, demanding I pay for a replacement photographer for the “reshoot” photos.
“Maybe you should have used the flower money to hire a real photographer,” I told him before hanging up.
And Dad? He was very proud of me.
A man standing in a hall | Source: Midjourney
“Sometimes family isn’t about blood,” he said. “It’s about respect. And they showed you none.”
He was right. Completely right. I’m really glad I stood up for myself and didn’t let them keep disrespecting me.
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another you might like: When my sister Beth announced her engagement after meeting someone at a wellness retreat, I was excited for her. But as her wedding day approached and she started behaving stranger than usual, I knew something was terribly wrong.
