When I embarked on the journey of marriage, I anticipated a shift in my identity, particularly upon adopting the last name Smith. I thought this transition would seamlessly integrate me into my partner’s life, but I was unprepared for how my own beliefs, traditions, and preferences would be put to the test. Why? Because marrying Mark meant becoming part of his family as well.
Joining a new family can be likened to embarking on a journey: there will be customs you come to cherish that broaden your perspective, alongside cherished moments you’ll revisit. You will find ways to adapt while recognizing that certain aspects are beyond your control. However, there will also be times when you feel a strong longing for the comfort of your own familiar surroundings. It’s a sentiment akin to wanting to say, “I just wish things could remain as they were, but with you by my side.”
At the time of our engagement, I was blissfully unaware of these complexities. The first hint of tension arose when Mark’s family expressed reservations about a non-religious wedding ceremony. Although platforms like Pinterest weren’t around, I had a clear image of my ideal wedding—a rustic outdoor setting complete with hay bales, twinkling lights, and wildflowers.
“I envision an outdoor ceremony with a very rustic theme,” I proudly declared.
My future mother-in-law, a petite woman with a passion for floral arrangements and tradition, replied, “Wouldn’t you prefer a church ceremony?”
I shook my head. “No, I really want to get married outside. Since I don’t attend church, it feels odd to be inside one.”
She paused, not realizing that her question was a subtle request for my compliance. I have never been one to compromise my preferences for the sake of others. It seems reasonable to appreciate your own tastes, but marriage introduces a different dynamic.
Once we were married and started a family, I made it a point to teach our daughters the proper names for their body parts. I wanted to avoid euphemisms, especially when it came to anatomy. One day, my daughter Lily shared a story with Mark’s father, a gentle giant who works as an ultrasound technician, about her experience at a water park.
“We went on the slides, and it was so much fun! It’s funny how your pee feels warm after swimming. Does yours feel like that? And afterward, my vagina felt burny for a couple of days,” she said, skipping off to play.
He turned to me, mouthing the word “vagina” before exclaiming, “She calls it that?”
I was taken aback. “Yes, that’s what it’s called,” I replied.
“I understand, but don’t you think she’s a bit young for that?”
“How can one be too young to know the names of their own body parts?” I retorted.
His shrug indicated that while we could make our own choices, he would not have approached things in the same manner. This made me reflect on how often our parenting decisions would be scrutinized. The reality is, they would be questioned frequently, from decisions on medical treatments for our children to our approach to breastfeeding, which I did for two years with each daughter.
My upbringing emphasized debate over closeness, while Mark’s family favored a more subdued approach to conflict. This contrast likely explains why our family gatherings were seldom large, especially during holidays. My experience was primarily with my immediate family, occasionally including my grandparents, and we never sent out newsletters or holiday cards.
In cultural terms, Mark’s family could be described as a Hallmark movie; mine resembled Netflix.
Thanksgiving is highly significant to Mark’s mother, as are other holidays like Easter and Christmas. Each celebration involves extensive planning regarding food contributions and scheduling. Over time, she has adapted, yet there remains an underlying tension that we are not fulfilling expectations or are being difficult.
On one such holiday, she proposed a 1 p.m. meal time.
“That’s when the girls usually nap,” I pointed out to Mark. He nodded in agreement, as we were focused on our family’s routine, while she was steadfast in maintaining tradition.
It felt like a strategic game between two matriarchs, where one was thwarted by napping schedules while the other was stymied by traditional rituals. No matter when we arrived, it always seemed a bit late (“I hope the turkey hasn’t dried out”), or the items we brought were no longer necessary (“I went ahead and made that”).
I often faced the moment when she would ask, “Would you like seconds?”
“No, thanks,” I would respond.
“Are you sure you don’t want more mashed potatoes? Or another roll?”
I’d shake my head, feeling a mix of childish stubbornness and frustration. Shouldn’t I be able to enjoy a small serving of anything? Yet, the thought lingered, why should I feel obligated?
This is the essence of marriage—navigating the complexities of family dynamics.
I wish someone had cautioned me about the intricacies of family life within the marriage paradigm. While it’s not our fault, it certainly becomes our responsibility.
We marry into the holiday traditions, eccentric family members, unspoken rules, and the way things have always been done. The past and the future can’t coexist seamlessly, and we must learn a new way of communicating and adapting to different family cultures.
Ultimately, the true ‘happily ever after’ lies in the ability to step back from the chaos and find solace in the arms of the person we chose to marry, feeling a sense of belonging amidst it all.
For more insights on family dynamics and parenting, check out this informative post on intracervical insemination, as well as this excellent resource on in vitro fertilization.
Summary: Marrying ‘The One’ means embracing their family, with its unique traditions and challenges. This experience can be likened to travel—filled with new customs, moments of longing for familiarity, and necessary adaptations. Understanding these dynamics is essential for a successful marriage, allowing you to find balance between your own preferences and those of your partner’s family.