My Hypocrite SIL Copies My Hair, Hobbies, and Clothes – I Wrapped Her around My Finger at a Friend’s Wedding

It all started when I married my amazing hubby, Jack. Olivia, his ex, is now married to his brother. Crazy, right? But that’s not even the weird part. The issue is, ever since I walked into the family picture, Olivia has been transforming herself into a walking copy of “yours truly.”

From hairstyles to hobbies, and even cooking, she mimics everything I do! It’s like I set a trend and she’s the follower who forgot to think for herself!

Don’t get me wrong, the whole ex-girlfriend-turned-sister-in-law thing is… well, awkward. But honestly, I could handle that. It’s the constant copying that drives me insane!

We’re talking full-on chameleon mode here. I take up yoga, Olivia’s at the studio the next week. Red dress for a party? Boom, there she is in the same damn color.

It’s like she has a secret camera in my apartment, stalking my every move! Can you believe it? She even copied my new shoes!

The other day, I even posted a picture of my delicious Carbonara on Instagram, and wouldn’t you know it, Olivia had a suspiciously similar dish on her feed a few hours later.

Seriously, the woman has no shame! I tried ignoring it at first. Didn’t want any drama, you know? But the more she copied, the more annoyed I became.

Then one day, I overheard Olivia talking to her friend while I was (conveniently) walking past her room during a visit to my in-laws’. The door was slightly ajar, and let’s just say, I couldn’t help but catch a juicy snippet.

“I’m so tired of AMY copying ME,” Olivia whined. “She knows Jack loved me before her, so she’s trying to be the same.”

Hold on a second. Did this woman just flip the script entirely? Now I’m the COPYCAT? The audacity of this heifer!

Fuming, I clenched my fists. Here she was, imitating my every move, and then had the nerve to play the victim? Confrontation wouldn’t solve anything. It would only throw me in the bad light.

No. This needed a more… strategic approach. A plan to expose her for the “stalking” follower she truly was, and maybe even have a little fun in the process.

A mischievous grin spread across my face. Game on, Olivia.

The perfect opportunity arose with a friend’s upcoming wedding. Everyone was buzzing about outfits, makeup, the whole nine yards.

Of course, Olivia was in full-on social media stalker mode, trying to decipher my every move. What salon was I going to? What designer would I choose? What hairdo I was going to flaunt?

Little did she know, I had a trick up my sleeve. The day before the wedding, I posted a photo on my Instagram that sent shockwaves through the family group chat.

It was a picture of me with dramatically different hair. Short, dyed black — a complete departure from my usual blonde locks. Only thing, it was a wig!

So, picture this: I enter the wedding venue and Olivia’s response was… well, let’s just say she CHOKED on her champagne.

“WHAT?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??” she shrieked, her voice laced with panic. “Didn’t you cut and dye your hair?!”

I fought back a laugh, the satisfaction bubbling in my chest. “Of course not, honey!” I said, feigning innocence. “Just did a photo shoot to see how I looked with short hair! As I see, you cut and dyed YOUR hair? And surprisingly, it looks exactly like my hair in the pic. Uhm…!!”

I pulled out my phone, revealing a picture of myself with the short, black wig. Olivia’s jaw dropped. It was clear. She’d fallen for my bait.

The look on her face was priceless. EPIC! Panic morphed into anger, her eyes blazing. “This isn’t funny, Amy!” she snapped.

I shrugged, a playful smile on my lips as I grabbed a glass of wine. “Just showing off my versatility, sis. Maybe you should try that sometime!” I said.

The wedding incident was just the beginning.

The fake haircut was child’s play. I decided to take it to the next level with a series of “changes” on social media, just to see how far she’d go.

First up: a picture of me with an even shorter, black pixie cut (courtesy of Photoshop, of course). This time, I upped the ante with a caption that read: “Feeling fierce with this new look! What do you guys think?”

Like clockwork, Olivia didn’t disappoint. The very next day, a notification popped up on my phone. Olivia had posted a new picture on Instagram.

I braced myself, taking a sip of coffee before clicking. There she was, rocking a haircut that could only be described as a war crime against follicles.

It looked like a toddler had taken a pair of safety scissors to her head, fueled by a gallon of juice and a complete disregard for straight lines.

And the worst part? It totally didn’t suit her face. Imagine a poodle that escaped a lopsided grooming session… that was Olivia’s new hairdo.

I snorted out my coffee, tears welling up in my eyes. This was even better than I’d imagined! The comment section below the picture was a glorious mess of confusion and amusement. One person even wrote, “Uh… bold choice, Olivia?”

Another chimed in with, “Did you lose a bet with a lawnmower?”

Victory tasted oh-so-sweet.

Next, I posted a picture with a massive, intricate tattoo design photoshopped onto my back. It was a real showstopper, featuring swirling dragons and mystical symbols.

Sure enough, a week later, Olivia’s social media exploded. Her feed was flooded with a picture of her back, or rather, a sad attempt at replicating the elaborate design I’d posted.

It looked like a kindergartener had been given a permanent marker and free rein. The swirls resembled drunken spaghetti noodles, and the “mystical symbols” were closer to misshapen blobs. The comment section was a chaotic mix of concern and barely concealed laughter.

“Olivia, are you okay?” one person commented. Another, clearly trying to be supportive, wrote, “Uh… that’s, uh, very unique? What are those? Snakes? Godzilla?”

Oh, God, this was getting bigger and hilarious. Damn! I missed seeing Olivia’s face when she read all those comments.

She must have deactivated the comments shortly after because the whole thing vanished from her feed as quickly as it appeared. But the damage was done.

The internet, as always, had a record, and screenshots of her artistic disaster were circulating in family group chats faster than you could say “copycat.”

By that evening, I couldn’t resist. I felt a delicious twinge of victory mixed with a touch of pity for Olivia. The girl had clearly gone off the deep end trying to keep up with my fabricated changes. So, I decided to drop the act with a flourish.

I paid a visit to my in-laws’ house, eager to see the look on Olivia’s face.

As I walked in, my usual blonde hair cascaded down my shoulders, not a trace of the dramatic cuts or tattoos from my social media. Olivia practically choked on her air. Her eyes darted from my hair to my bare back, searching for any sign of my “transformations.”

“Hey everyone!” I chirped, a wide grin plastered on my face. My mother-in-law gave me a warm hug. “Amy, dear! So glad you could make it. Olivia here was just showing off her, uh, crazy new look. I really don’t understand what’s wrong with this girl.”

Olivia sputtered, her face flushing red. “It’s a bold statement piece!” she mumbled unconvincingly.

Oh, really? Uhm, guess it was time to up the game a bit.

The rest of the evening was pure entertainment. Over dinner, I casually pulled out my phone and showed everyone the pictures of my “makeovers!” Yup, the fake hairstyles… the photoshopped tattoo!

“Just having a little fun with social media,” I said with a wink.

The family erupted in laughter. My hubby chuckled, shaking his head. “Classic Amy,” he said, squeezing my hand.

Even my mother-in-law, who usually kept her opinions to herself, couldn’t help but chime in. “Olivia, honey,” she started gently, “you know you don’t need to copy Amy to be special. You have your own style.”

Olivia sat there, fuming in silence. The constant whispers and pointed glances from the family were torture for her. It was clear she finally understood the ridiculousness of her copying spree. The revenge, although petty, tasted oh-so-sweet.

After dinner, I saw Olivia slip out the back door. I followed discreetly, finding her slumped on a nearby bench, tears welling up in her eyes. There was a flicker of sympathy in my heart. Maybe I’d gone a bit too far.

“Hey,” I said softly, taking a seat beside her. “Look, I get it. You probably felt insecure.”

Olivia sniffled. “I just… I want to be liked by everyone,” she mumbled.

I sighed. “You don’t need to be me, Olivia. Be yourself. It’s the best version you can be.”

That incident, my friends, still makes me laugh. Olivia and I never became best friends, but the copying definitely stopped.

She might still keep her distance sometimes, and maybe there’s a hint of a grudge simmering in her gaze (hey, some people take fashion faux pas seriously!).

But family gatherings? Well, let’s just say they’re a lot more lively these days. Every now and then, someone will jokingly ask if I’m planning another “drastic makeover.”

The whole experience taught me a valuable lesson: some people crave attention so much they’ll lose themselves trying to be someone else. But the best revenge, as they say, is living well.

Living well, for me, means embracing my individuality and rocking my own style, no matter what. Whether it’s putting on my favorite lipstick or having a little harmless fun with a copycat SIL, it’s all about expressing myself!

So, have any of you dealt with a similar situation? Spill the tea in the comments! Let’s hear your stories about the copycats and the lengths you went to in the name of a little payback.

Here’s another story: Barbara was constantly belittled by her sister-in-law about her job. On top of that, her SIL demanded free babysitting for her kids. Fed up with her entitled behavior, Barbara decided to teach her sister-in-law a lesson she wouldn’t forget.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.