AITA for refusing to invite my cousin to my wedding?

As a teenager, he carried a secret that shattered his sister’s engagement and nearly tore the family apart—discovered his fiancé and cousin in a bedroom tryst at a party. Burdened with guilt and forced into therapy, he watched the scandal unfold: his sister’s public breakup, his cousin’s ill-fated marriage, and years of fractured relationships. Though time has softened some wounds, the betrayal still stings.

Now, as he plans an intimate courthouse ceremony with only his closest supporters, his cousin once the architect of that trauma wants an invite. He faces a dilemma: extend forgiveness and risk old hurt resurfacing, or protect his peace by excluding her from the few seats at his table.

‘AITA for refusing to invite my cousin to my wedding?’

Micro-weddings and courthouse ceremonies have become an increasingly popular choice for couples seeking intimacy and meaningful connection. According to a recent Axios report, average guest counts have dropped substantially—driven by pandemic-era restrictions and a desire for personal moments over large-scale events. In such settings, every invitation carries weight; omitting guests is less about exclusion and more about safeguarding the ceremony’s emotional integrity.

Betrayal trauma—when trust is violated by someone close—can leave deep psychological scars. Psychology Today explains that such traumas “inflict deep psychological wounds” and can lead to lasting shame, guilt, and distrust, especially when the betrayer is a family member . For the OP, his cousin’s past manipulation was not only an affront to his sister but also a burden he bore as a vulnerable adolescent, meriting continued caution.

Wedding guest list etiquette for small ceremonies underscores that invitations reflect the couple’s current circle of trust. The Knot advises that couples “include only those you are closest with” and “communicate expectations early” to avoid hurt feelings. When family dynamics are complex, the guidance suggests acknowledging that an invite—or lack thereof—does not measure one’s value but echoes the couple’s emotional needs on that day.

Family systems theory holds that boundaries are crucial for healing. Verywell Mind notes that healthy relationships sometimes require “unequal accommodation”: giving individuals what they uniquely need rather than identical treatment for all. By choosing to exclude his cousin, the OP honors his sister’s ongoing pain and his own well-being, ensuring that his wedding remains a place of celebration, not old sorrow.

Here’s the input from the Reddit crowd:

Redditors overwhelmingly supported the OP’s choice, observing that his cousin’s past deceit rendered her unfit for an event meant to honor trust and loyalty. Many pointed out that true recovery from betrayal involves accepting consequences, including being left off intimate guest lists.

Commenters also suggested that the OP reassure the cousin that a larger celebration—once pandemic restrictions lift—could include her, while keeping the courthouse ceremony exclusively for those whose presence uplifts rather than unsettles.

When wounds from past betrayals still ache, limiting invitations can be an act of self-preservation and respect for all involved. Intimate ceremonies demand careful curation of attendees who support the couple’s emotional safety. Have you navigated similar guest-list dilemmas where past hurts influenced your invites? Share your experiences and how you balanced forgiveness with the need for peace.