AITA for refusing to change my daughter's wedding venue after my sister begged me because her ex proposed there?

I put down a $20K non-refundable deposit on my daughter Amy’s dream beachfront venue. My sister Carol begged me to move the wedding because her cheating ex proposed to his younger girlfriend on that same beach — but save-the-dates are sent and everything else is booked. Amy wants to keep the venue; Carol is devastated and now won't attend Thanksgiving. AITA?

I’m 51F and my daughter Amy (26) has dreamed of getting married at a particular beachfront estate since high school. We put down a hefty $20,000 non-refundable deposit 18 months ago and booked the place for next September — it’s the venue she pinned on Pinterest and everything else (photographer, caterer, rentals) is either booked or many times more expensive elsewhere. Last month my sister Carol found out her cheating ex-husband Mark proposed to a much younger coworker at that exact beach spot. Carol is devastated and begged me to change venues because she can't bear seeing that beach for family photos or attending a ceremony there.

I paid a $20K non-refundable deposit on my daughter's dream beachfront venue months ago — when my sister begged me to move it because her ex proposed there, I refused: save-the-dates are sent, everything else is booked, and Amy doesn't want to change.

When I told Carol I couldn't change venues she was heartbroken. I explained the practical realities: $20K is non-refundable, we've already sent save-the-dates, Amy has wanted this for years, and shifting everything would cost us a lot more or worse, be impossible to rebook. Amy told me she doesn't want to move the wedding — she says it isn't fair to ruin her dream over her sister's ex. Carol called Amy a "spoiled brat" and accused me of choosing money over her mental health. Now Carol is skipping Thanksgiving and several family members are siding with her, calling me heartless.

"I can't lose $20K and crush my daughter's dream because of what Mark did — he's been out of our lives for five years."

I feel sick for Carol — I sympathize — but I also feel protective of Amy. This venue was central to Amy's vision and we already made big financial and logistical commitments. Some relatives say the place is "cursed" now and that family trauma should take precedence over a pretty location. My husband's side says it's not Carol’s place to hijack Amy’s wedding. My sister accuses me of valuing pictures over her pain — and it's caused a big family rift.

"Carol begged me to change venues — she can't look at that beach without remembering what he did, but the deposit and plans make changing impossible."

I offered Carol to skip the ceremony photos on that stretch of beach, to arrange private time for her elsewhere that day, and to help with counseling referrals — but she says nothing will fix it unless we move the whole wedding. I’m torn between wanting to support my sister through her pain and wanting to protect my daughter’s day and the huge financial commitment already made.

🏠 The Aftermath

Right now, Amy still wants the venue and the deposit stands. Carol is skipping Thanksgiving and several relatives are upset at me. My relationship with Carol is strained, and family conversations have been tense. Amy is disappointed that this has become a family fight, and I'm stressed about the possibility of losing relationships over a decision that felt financially and practically necessary.

At home: I'm siding with my daughter's wishes and protecting the investment we've made. With Carol: distance and hurt feelings; she feels unheard and betrayed. Among relatives: a split, some calling me heartless and others backing my choice to keep Amy's dream intact given the costs and logistics.

Practical consequences include a fractured holiday, Carol's absence at family gatherings, and ongoing conversations where both sisters feel wronged. Emotional consequences include guilt and anger on my part and grief and resentment on Carol's.

"I couldn't in good conscience change everything and lose $20K when it mattered so much to Amy."

I do feel guilty for Carol's pain, but I also keep thinking about how long Amy has wanted this and how many irreversible bookings we've made.

💭 Emotional Reflection

This is a painful clash between honoring a loved one's trauma and honoring another loved one's lifelong dream. On paper, changing a venue after a non-refundable deposit and extensive bookings is costly and sometimes impossible. Emotionally, asking someone to walk past the site of a fresh wound is heavy and understandable. Both positions are valid: Carol's grief is real and deserves compassion; Amy's milestone and the family's financial commitment also deserve respect.

Could you have handled it differently? Perhaps more proactive empathy — a private, heartfelt conversation acknowledging Carol’s pain and offering meaningful gestures (e.g., private photoshoot elsewhere, reimbursing counseling, ensuring Carol has a quiet place away from the beach on the day) — might have reduced the sting. Could Carol have understood the practical limits? Yes — but grief narrows perspective. Reasonable people will split: some will prioritize healing and ask you to make sacrifices; others will recognize the logistical and financial reality that makes changing venues unreasonable.

A constructive next step is careful boundary-setting plus reparative offers: clear financial facts, an earnest apology that you understand her pain, and concrete gestures (custom private moments, offering professional support, or finding ways to honor her feelings without upending Amy’s plans). True reconciliation may take time, but specific, empathetic actions are more powerful than arguments about who is right.

Here’s how the community might see it:

“NTA — $20K non-refundable and save-the-dates sent. You can't bankrupt your daughter’s dream because of someone who hurt your sister.”

“Empathize and compensate: offer private photo options, a special spot for Carol, or fund counseling. Practicality + compassion.”

“If you can afford to, consider small concessions (change ceremony location on the day, different photo spots) but don't ruin your daughter's wedding over a past trauma.”

Responses will split between practical realism and emotional solidarity; the best path blends clear communication of limits with meaningful, personalized efforts to acknowledge and support Carol.

🌱 Final Thoughts

You're juggling two legitimate moral claims: Carol's pain and Amy's long-held dream backed by significant financial and logistical commitments. Saying no to changing the venue isn't heartless — it's often the only viable option — but staying rigid without empathy deepens the wound. Concrete gestures of support, a sincere apology for the hurt, and tangible accommodations on the wedding day might help bridge the gap.

Would you keep the venue and offer compensatory gestures, or prioritize your sister's emotional needs even at great financial cost? Share your thoughts below 👇