I’d just made it official. The move abroad. I say official, but I’d been visiting for years before finally taking a leap. So, felt like one of the luckier ones. At least, starting-over-wise. I already had a few friendships and connections.
Or so I thought.
One day, my partner’s first cousin hosted a family dinner. I’d always chatted to her during my visits. In fact, where she opened up about ex-boyfriends and her early menopause I assumed we’d grown close. I thought we’d become closer now I’d taken the plunge.
After dinner was eaten and plates cleared away, we moved on to the next stage: family photos.
We took loads and even got strangers to help, just to make sure everyone was in.
The next day, my phone buzzed with dings and pings. She’d uploaded the album to social media.
During my break, I took a cheeky look. But, it was weird.
I couldn’t see myself in any of the photos.
She’d cropped me out of every single one.