The planning took months. I booked the venue, arranged catering, hired entertainment, and paid every bill, over $10,000 gone in a blink. It was all for my mother-in-law’s 60th birthday, a party her own kids barely acknowledged, let alone paid for. Still, I did it because I thought I was part of the family. But the day before the party, my husband told me I wasn’t welcome; his mom didn’t want “drama.” That’s when it hit me: I wasn’t family. I was just the ATM. So I made one phone call, and by morning, everything had already started to unravel...