Dear Prudence is Slate’s advice column. For this edition, J. Bryan Lowder, Slate associate editor and co-host of the Outward LGBTQ podcast, will be filling in as Prudie. Submit questions here. (It’s anonymous!)
Dear Prudence,
I am an amateur baker, but a very good one. At 17, I tried to start up a business. My first real client was my aunt. Her daughter had a baby shower coming up, and my aunt wanted it to be fabulous. She promised to cover expenses and pay me a fee of $30. Only she and my cousin kept changing their minds. They wanted themed cookies, then cupcakes, then other pastries, etc. I had to buy out-of-pocket new molds and supplies. We had a text group chat where I told them the cost of everything, and they didn’t care—the party had to be perfect. It was. And they were happy, until the next day when I texted the total bill of $230. My aunt threw a fit and told me there was no way it cost that much, and that I was being greedy.
I had to print out and highlight the texts where they both agreed to pay the costs. My aunt refused to pay me and when I turned to my cousin, she harangued me about how could I dare to ask her for money when she has a baby coming, and it wasn’t like I even got her a shower gift. And the rest of the family blamed me. Even my parents. They told me I needed to be the bigger person and let it go. I ended up so depressed I stop baking for several years. Now, I am out of college and working two jobs. I started baking again and ended up doing high-end wedding cakes in a local bakery. I made several off-the-books cakes for a few friends and family members as gifts.
Well, the same cousin is planning her dream wedding on a dime store budget, and she knows I did free wedding cakes for a few people. She tried to sweet-talk me into doing one for her, and I shut her down hard. She pretended not to remember why and I reminded her. She asked what she needed to do to convince me. I told her or my aunt needed to pay me the $230 I was owed and I would consider it. My aunt came by with the cash but texted me a nasty reply where she called me money-grubbing. I was done. I texted my cousin that I was thankful to finally be paid, and wished her well on her wedding plans, but declined to make the cake.
All hell broke loose. My aunt and cousin threw themselves a public pity party and predictably, everyone in the family piled onto me. I pushed back. I was vocal. I sent people my receipts of what my aunt and cousin texted to me and asked them all how fair they thought it was. I had a huge fight with my mother because she blamed me for not being more assertive about the situation when I was 17. I screamed at her that I was 17 and naively believed my own family wouldn’t deliberately screw me over but hey, she rammed that lesson home. We aren’t talking currently. My father and brothers keep telling me I am burning my bridges and making mountains out of molehills—I feel I am finally standing up for myself. I know it isn’t a lot of money. But it is the principle of the thing. I loved baking. I took joy in it. My aunt and cousin stole that from me. I would have let bygones be bygones if my aunt hadn’t sent me that ugly text. My question is: Am I doing the right thing here? My family is wearing me down.
—Take the Cake
Dear Take the Cake,
Event cakes are such a headache. I had a shoestring wedding myself a few years back, and one of the more stressful moments was lying through my teeth to the bakery owner that this massive sheet cake I was ordering—with the exact same elements as a wedding cake on the menu—was indeed just a birthday cake (half the price!) but that no, I really didn’t want my name iced across it, thank you so much. But I digress—and I paid the guy!
You are doing the right thing. I mean, it’s possible you could have done the right thing—absolutely refusing to make this wedding cake—less dramatically (receipts in the group text!) or chosen to let the money go, but I don’t know, your family seems intent on keeping things as sloppy as a broken buttercream. “Gaslighting” is way overused these days, but your father and brothers casting you as the bad guy here sure is a strong showing. And not only that, but everyone involved is showing a lack of respect for the very talent they want to take advantage of. The initial baby shower episode was distressing enough that it made you give up your beloved hobby/side hustle for years—that’s really upsetting! And all over a modest amount (have they checked what professional places charge?) that you say everyone was kept aware of during the process. While screaming at your mother about it might not have been the best way to de-escalate or minimize familial strife, I get why you went there, I really do.
Some might say that the problem is that your family didn’t understand the costs and labor involved in serious baking. Speaking as a fairly dedicated home baker myself, it’s true that those who generally deal in Duncan Hines may not get all that goes into more elaborate baking, on the level of a complicated birthday or wedding cake. And that’s OK—as long as it’s understood as a gift from the baker to loved ones, they don’t need to! But here, you had a business agreement from the start; your clients just didn’t think you were really going to collect the bill. Now that you’ve been made whole and extricated yourself from your cousin’s wedding (what a relief), I think all you can do is stop engaging about this issue until your family finds another local baker to terrorize and lets it go. And for your part, the real takeaway is to never, ever mix your family and your passion for baking together again—the whole thing is bound to curdle.
Help! I Think My Dad Is Cheating On My Mom.
The Dear Prudence podcast is back. Listen every Friday on Slate or your podcast player of choice.
Dear Prudence,
I got my license and degree in 2020 when it was really hard to get a job in my field. I took a job four hours away from my friends and family. I tried hard to make a life in my new area. In 2022, I began dating my girlfriend long-distance, who lived in my old city. After a few months of trying, I’ve finally landed a job back there. My girlfriend and I will finally move in together. Our friends are overjoyed, but also so, so pushy about where we’ll live. I get it: It’s a famously tight rental market, and most people get a good apartment with some degree of networking. So some people are making recommendations based on that. But I don’t want to live in the city!
I love my current place in the suburbs: It’s near opportunities for my hobby, I have a car so I don’t have to walk or take buses anywhere, it’s quiet, I have more space, and it’s cheaper. When I move back, I plan to also pick a suburb. My girlfriend is on board with this as a compromise, but our friends are so pushy about us staying near them! I’ve said the subject is closed and refused to talk more about it, but they keep dropping hints and trying to persuade me. How do I close this down for good?
—June Lease
Dear June Lease,
I think you close this down for good by … choosing the place you want to live and living there. What are your friends going to do? Abduct you from the suburbs to the city in the middle of the night? This is not a Fox News “urban danger” scare segment! I don’t mean to make light of your predicament, I’m sure it is both heart-warming and a little weird to have friends this devoted to having you close, but I really think everyone will settle into a comfortable social dynamic once you text them your new address. If anything, your city folks will probably be grateful for the opportunity to touch some grass when they visit you—so stand firm in your picket-fence truth, and don’t complain about the parking when country (you) comes to town.
Dear Prudence,
I’m about to turn 30. Last year, I went through a pretty traumatic cross-country move that upended my life. I had to get a new job and leave my entire support system behind. I sought therapy and have actually found great comfort in solo activities—reading, meditation, and fitness. I’ve made one or two friends in the new city and am finally feeling slightly more stable, if a little bruised by the chaos of the past year.
However, I don’t have a large friend group with whom to celebrate. If I’m being honest with myself, a 30th birthday dinner would be my partner, myself, and maybe two other people. This is a far cry from the bash I always pictured myself having. It’s not even about an expensive celebration—I’d be happy with dinner in the park—but just about my really small social circle. I am starting to dread my birthday because of the loneliness I know I’ll be feeling. I thought about going on a trip over my birthday weekend, but I feel like that would just be running away from the problem and confirming that I still don’t feel at home in my new city.
How can I let go of the expectations around what a 30th birthday “should” be and just embrace my situation as it is? Do you have any thoughts on how I can decrease these feelings of loneliness at not having a big group of friends with whom to celebrate?
—Thirty and Thriving … Mostly
Dear Thirty and Thriving,
Happy birthday! And I mean that—it’s going to be a happy one in the end. Before I give you my thoughts on how to make that happen, I wanted to check in with my younger brother, who crossed the momentous three-decade threshold much more recently than I did, and had some wise words on your situation. Here’s what he had to say:
Your disappointment with having a smaller friend group in your new city than you’d like makes sense, but instead of evaluating the situation against your ideal (or what you may be mourning from before), it might help to consider things in light of all the obstacles you overcame in the last year or so. I feel safe in pointing out that most adults find it at least a little challenging to make new friends! With that in mind, it’s pretty remarkable that you were able to navigate the year you had and also find two people you care about enough to want them with you on this special occasion.
And hey, I think the experience of turning 30 and realizing you don’t have the life you always imagined for yourself is as common as it is painful. Some people may find it impossible to course-correct due to their circumstances or the nature of the thing they’re missing, but you don’t fall into that category. Your two new friends are living proof that you’ve already taken significant strides. I hope you can see that you haven’t failed to build the life you want, you just haven’t finished building it yet.
I second all of that—you’re doing great sweetie, you really are! Now, I’m someone who can also get mired in the quicksand of “should” (hi, Virgos), and I find that one of the most effective ways to avoid it is to swerve entirely, to do something totally different than what I think I’m “supposed to do” in a given situation. So here, if your instinct was to have a “big bash,” I think you definitely want to go another direction—maybe book an intimate dinner with your two pals at a fancy restaurant or a fun experience in your new area that only makes sense for a few folks to do together anyway. I also want to encourage you to reconsider that trip idea—that’s not “running away,” it’s running toward something that you would enjoy! And, depending on what you had in mind, maybe your friends could come along? A birthday weekend away together at the beach, mountains, tarpits, or whatever geographical feature you prefer sounds delightful, and I think it could do a lot to show you that construction on this new phase of life is moving ahead right on schedule.
Classic Prudie
Recently my friend Amy made a new friend, Mary. I’ve met her a few times, and while we were polite to each other, she isn’t someone I’d care to interact with more than necessary. I don’t seek her out, nor do I invite her to social events. Mary has slowly become part of my circle of friends. She has made a few comments intimating she’s upset that she hasn’t been invited to some of our get-togethers, but she is in a very different financial bracket than the rest of us.
Read Again https://news.google.com/rss/articles/CBMiVmh0dHBzOi8vc2xhdGUuY29tL2h1bWFuLWludGVyZXN0LzIwMjMvMDUvY291c2luLXdlZGRpbmctY2FrZS1kZWFyLXBydWRlbmNlLWFkdmljZS5odG1s0gEA?oc=5Bagikan Berita Ini
0 Response to "Dear Prudence: I refused to bake my cousin's wedding cake and then all hell broke loose in the family - Slate"
Post a Comment