Hello, everyone! Ever dealt with someone who obsessively mirrors everything about you? Welcome to my world with my sister-in-law, Olivia. It’s like living with a fashion stalker, constantly tailing your style and hobbies!
Here’s the scoop: I married my incredible husband, Jack, whose ex-girlfriend Olivia is now his brother’s wife. Yes, it’s as complicated as it sounds. But here’s where it gets weirder—since I joined the family, Olivia has been shadowing my every move, transforming herself into an echo of my life.
From my yoga classes to my wardrobe, and even down to the foods I cook, she’s there, replicating it all. It’s like I’m unknowingly setting trends for her to follow, without her ever taking a beat to find her own style!
Now, don’t get me wrong, the whole ex-turned-sister-in-law dynamic is awkward enough, but I could’ve managed that. What really gets under my skin is her constant imitation.
She’s taken it to an extreme. I join a pottery class, and guess who’s there the next session? Olivia. I buy a unique dress for an event, and there she is, in an almost identical outfit.
It feels downright creepy, almost as if she has a hidden camera tracking my every purchase! Can you imagine? Even my Instagram isn’t safe. I posted a picture of a new pair of boots, and the next thing I know, she’s flaunting the same pair.
The tipping point came when I shared a photo of a delicious homemade Carbonara I made. Sure enough, Olivia posted a similar dish on her feed just hours later.
At first, I tried to ignore it, steering clear of any drama. But as her copying intensified, my frustration grew. I had to do something about this bizarre mimicry.
Then, one day, as fate would have it, I overheard Olivia complaining to a friend during a visit to my in-laws’. The door was ajar, and I caught a snippet of her conversation that flipped everything on its head.
“I’m so fed up with AMY copying ME,” Olivia lamented. “She knows Jack was mine first, so now she’s trying to morph into me.”
Excuse me? Now I was the copycat? The audacity!
I was seething with anger. She was the one mirroring my life, and now she was playing the victim? Direct confrontation would make me look bad, and frankly, it wasn’t my style.
No, this situation called for a cunning, humorous revelation of the truth. A way to expose her obsession in a manner that would be undeniable. And just like that, a mischievous idea took root.
The perfect opportunity presented itself with a friend’s upcoming wedding. Everyone was buzzing about what they would wear and how they would look.
Olivia, true to form, was glued to my social media, scavenging for any hints about my plans for the event. Little did she know, I had a little trick planned just for her.
The day before the wedding, I posted a shocking image on my Instagram—a photo of me with dramatically short, black hair. Except it wasn’t real; I was wearing a wig, but Olivia didn’t need to know that.
Wedding day arrived, and the scene was set. As I made my entrance, Olivia’s reaction was priceless. She nearly choked on her drink.
“WHAT?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??” she gasped, staring at me in horror. “Didn’t you cut and dye your hair?”
Trying hard not to laugh, I played it cool. “Oh, honey, of course not! Just experimented with a wig for a shoot. But it looks like you went and made a permanent change based on my fake photo? Interesting choice!”
I casually pulled off the wig, revealing my usual long blonde locks. Olivia’s jaw hit the floor.
The realization dawned on her, and her face contorted from panic to anger. “This isn’t funny, Amy!” she snapped.
With a sip of my wine, I smiled and replied, “I was just showcasing some versatility, sis. Maybe you should give it a try sometime.”
That wedding marked the beginning of my campaign of playful deception. Over the next few months, I continued to post fake updates—new tattoos, extreme haircuts, outlandish outfits—all fabricated for effect.
Olivia took the bait every time, each instance leading to more embarrassing and comically disastrous results. Her attempts to keep up became the fodder for family jokes and social media banter.
At the next family gathering, with my real hair and no tattoos in sight, the truth of my ruse became glaringly obvious. As the family laughed and Olivia struggled to explain her sudden style upheavals, my mother-in-law finally intervened.
“Olivia, dear,” she said softly, “you don’t need to mimic Amy to stand out. You have your own style.”
That night, after witnessing Olivia’s distress, I found her alone outside, tears in her eyes. Maybe I had taken it too far.
“Hey,” I said gently, joining her on the bench. “I understand you were just trying to fit in.”
She sniffled, “I just wanted to be liked as much as you.”
I reassured her, “Olivia, you don’t need to be me to be liked. Just be yourself, that’s enough.”
From then on, Olivia stopped copying my style. While our relationship remains a bit strained, the overt imitation has ceased.
The experience was a lesson in creativity and boundaries. It taught me that while imitation might be the sincerest form of flattery, it’s authenticity that truly resonates with others.
So, have any of you dealt with a similar situation? How did you handle your personal copycat? Let’s share stories and tips on dealing with imitators in a fun, constructive way!
