You might think that tying the knot with your soulmate means you’re just gaining a partner, but let’s be real: you’re also signing up for a whole new family. I remember when I took on my husband Alex’s last name, I thought I was embracing a new chapter of love and unity. Little did I know, I’d soon find myself navigating the choppy waters of family traditions, quirks, and expectations.
Marrying into a family is a lot like embarking on an adventure: you’ll discover new customs that broaden your perspective, while also longing for the familiar comforts of your own upbringing. It’s about adapting to things that are beyond your control, yet sometimes you’ll find yourself yearning for the good ole days, thinking, “Can’t we just keep my traditions but have you join in?”
I certainly didn’t see this coming when we got engaged. The first sign of impending change was when Alex’s family expressed their hesitance toward a wedding outside of a church. Now, if Pinterest had existed back then, my dream wedding would be all over it: think a picturesque barn setting, hay bales adorned with colorful quilts, twinkling lights overhead, and wildflowers everywhere.
“I envision a rustic outdoor wedding,” I declared enthusiastically.
My future mother-in-law, a petite lady with a penchant for floral arrangements and solemn rituals, replied, “Wouldn’t a church feel more appropriate?”
“No, I really want to be outdoors. I don’t attend church, so it feels odd to say ‘I do’ inside one,” I explained.
She fell silent, and it dawned on me that “Don’t you want to…” translates to “It would make me really happy if you would…” I had no intention of compromising my vision just to please others. It’s fascinating how marriage can turn your preferences upside down.
After we tied the knot and welcomed our children, I was adamant about teaching our daughters the correct names for their body parts. No euphemisms here! One day, my daughter Lily enthusiastically shared a story with Alex’s dad, a gentle giant who works in ultrasound, about her experience at the water park.
“We had so much fun on the slides! Did you know your pee feels warm after swimming? And my vagina felt funny for days,” she chirped before scampering off.
He looked at me, clearly taken aback. “Vagina? She calls it that?”
“Of course! It’s just a word,” I replied.
“Sure, but isn’t she a bit young for that?” he asked.
I defended my choice, but his reaction had me pondering how often our parenting decisions would be scrutinized. Spoiler alert: a lot! From minor medical decisions to how long we nursed each child, it seemed like our choices were always on display.
My family preferred lively debates over cozy gatherings, while Alex’s relatives leaned toward harmonious discussions, often avoiding conflict. That’s probably why our Thanksgivings were intimate affairs, just the four of us, occasionally joined by my grandparents. There were no family newsletters or holiday cards in my upbringing.
To put it in pop culture terms, Alex’s family was Hallmark; mine was more of a Netflix binge-watch.
Thanksgiving holds a special place in Alex’s mom’s heart, along with Christmas and Easter. Every holiday brings extensive discussions about dishes and schedules. While she has become more accommodating over the years, there still seems to be a feeling that we aren’t quite measuring up.
One Thanksgiving, she proposed a 1 p.m. meal time.
“That’s right when the girls nap,” I told Alex, who nodded in agreement. We were in the thick of new parenthood, focused on our family’s needs, while she clung tightly to tradition.
It felt like a game of Battleship: one matriarchal ship sunk by nap time, another by centerpieces and rituals. No matter when we arrived, it always felt a little late or like we brought something unnecessary.
I can’t count how many times she asked, “Would you like seconds?”
“No, thank you,” I’d reply.
“Are you sure you don’t want more mashed potatoes? Another roll?”
And there I was, battling my own stubbornness. Shouldn’t I be able to enjoy a little of everything? But why should I be pressured to comply? Ah, marriage!
I wish someone had forewarned me about the family aspect of “happily ever after.” It’s not our fault but it is our responsibility. We marry the traditions and quirks, both spoken and unspoken. The past and our evolving future can’t coexist seamlessly, so we must learn a new language and adapt to a different rhythm.
Happily ever after is about finding solace in your partner’s embrace amid the chaos, feeling that perfect fit despite everything else.
In case you’re interested in exploring home insemination options, check out this insightful piece on intracervical insemination. For couples on their fertility journey, Make a Mom offers great resources. And if you’re seeking more information about pregnancy and insemination, Hopkins Medicine is an excellent source.
In summary, remember that marrying someone means embracing their family, their traditions, and the occasional awkward moment. It’s all part of the beautiful, messy journey of love.