I\u2019ve always been a patient person. I got to practice my patience when my father remarried following my mom\u2019s death. So, when my in-laws tried to get me to break up with my husband before we could get married, I just used what I had learned earlier in life to withstand their onslaught.<\/p>\n
You know, sometimes trying to find your place in someone else\u2019s family can be really tricky. At least, it was for me when I met my husband\u2019s family. See, I\u2019m originally from Morocco, while my husband, Jeremy, was raised by an extremely conservative family from Georgia. That should be enough to give you an idea of what I faced.<\/p>\n
I immigrated to the US shortly after my mother passed away. I was 11 at the time, and it felt like my entire world was coming to an end. To add to this, my dad married a new woman only a little over a year after Mom\u2019s death. Naturally, adjusting to life in a new country and coming to terms that there was a new woman in my mom\u2019s place was jarring.<\/p>\n
My stepmom wasn\u2019t a bad person, but we never got along. I think she felt insecure about the fact that she could never have kids, so she would often be mean and distant toward my sister and me. She used to try to upset us all the time by doing petty things that she knew would make us uncomfortable, but luckily my mom had taught me to always smile when people were intentionally being mean to me.<\/p>\n
This turned out to be a great defense mechanism, and my stepmom couldn\u2019t bear that her tricks weren\u2019t working on me. Eventually, things died down and we made our peace, but I would never forget how effective it was to just smile through whatever petty new ploy she had devised to try and upset me. It truly was one of the greatest gifts my mom had ever given me.<\/p>\n
But my stepmom was a minor hindrance compared to Jeremy\u2019s family. When I met them for the first time, I knew I was in for a lengthy cold war.<\/p>\n
I met Leona, Jeremy\u2019s mom, and the rest of the Fergus family at one of their family dinners. By that time, I had been dating Jeremy for almost a year, and they had used every excuse to avoid inviting me to their dinners. This time, Jeremy ensured that they couldn\u2019t weasel out of meeting me, and he even told his mom to prepare a few dishes that I could eat, since I steer clear of any pork and alcohol.<\/p>\n
While my loving boyfriend was sure there would be something for me, I knew better than to just blindly trust people who clearly had misgivings about me to respect my personal choices, so I ate as I would before a fast and prepared myself for sitting around the dinner table while everyone enjoyed their meal.<\/p>\n
When we showed up at Jeremy\u2019s parents\u2019 house, the family greeted me with half-hearted smiles and quick hugs before we all settled down to eat. I knew the greetings would be awkward and stiff, but what I didn\u2019t anticipate was Leona bringing a peppy blonde woman up to me with a huge smile and saying, \u201cOh, Aleah, you just have to meet Diane, Jeremy\u2019s last girlfriend. We\u2019re all still very close and I thought you two might hit it off.\u201d<\/p>\n
Diane looked slightly embarrassed, and shook my hand with a smile that seemed to say, \u201cI\u2019m sorry, I know, but what could I do?\u201d I introduced myself and we exchanged a few pleasantries before she greeted Jeremy with a huge hug. She immediately launched into a conversation with him about what was going on in his life, ignoring me completely. Jeremy answered a few questions, grabbed my hand, and steered me to our seats.<\/p>\n
At the table, things just got worse. Leona opened all the dishes, and every single thing had pork in it. The mac and cheese had bacon bits in, the mashed potatoes had lard in, and even the turkey was wrapped in bacon. After unveiling all the food, Jeremy\u2019s mom looked at me, apologized for all the pork, and offered me a drink. \u201cI don\u2019t drink, but I\u2019ll gladly take a glass of water,\u201d I said with a smile. Slightly crestfallen, Leona got up to get me one.<\/p>\n
During the meal, the entire family kept making off-handed, passive-aggressive, and slightly racist comments clearly directed toward me. Meanwhile, Diane was showered with compliments. You\u2019d expect she was royalty with how the family sucked up to her. But I knew exactly how to handle the situation.<\/p>\n
Instead of letting my annoyance show, I once again employed my mom\u2019s wisdom. I smiled at every so-called joke, and even threw a few of my own compliments at Diane. I told Leona how lovely the spread looked, and thanked her profusely when she went to refill my cup of water. I could see Jeremy\u2019s mom seething at my pleasant demeanor.<\/p>\n
The night ended and we said our goodbyes. I refrained from complaining to Jeremy about his family. I could handle it. But things didn\u2019t get better from there. Family dinners were suddenly off-limits to anyone who wasn\u2019t also a Fergus \u2014 although Diane was apparently an exception \u2014 so I would often spend Christmas on my own or with my sister. They never drove a wedge between myself and Jeremy, and imagine their shock when he eventually proposed.<\/p>\n
Now, Leona and the rest of the family never bothered to learn anything about my culture. They assumed the wedding would be a regular ceremony, but Jeremy and I had planned on blending traditions. So when all the women, Diane included, showed up wearing white, I was all smiles, complimenting their outfits all the way. This didn\u2019t go down well.<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, my outfits were made up of every color imaginable, and I outshone them in every photo. There\u2019s even one picture of Leona with the biggest sour expression I had ever seen. It was a wonderful day.<\/p>\n
But the unspoken feud came to a head last Christmas when Leona suggested I host. Naturally, I accepted, even though I knew she only offered because she hoped I would be overwhelmed. Fortunately, she didn\u2019t count on the fact that I often cooked, and had been since I was a young girl. So my spread was something to marvel at.<\/p>\n
Mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, turkey, glazed ham, Brussels sprouts, green bean casserole, roasted carrots, and potatoes, freshly baked bread, corn bread, and an entire assortment of pies. Even I was impressed. But of course, with her plan in ruins, Leona did the next best thing. She started shouting at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve got to be kidding me! How could you of all people have managed this?! I know you hired a catering company, Aleah! Just to make me look bad. Admit it!\u201d<\/p>\n
Surprised at her outright anger, I looked at her, then at Jeremy. Luckily he stepped in.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, Aleah slaved away for two days to make sure we had a great Christmas dinner. I don\u2019t think you acting like this is very mature or fair. She has been nothing but a good host, and you accuse her of being petty, like a child who had hoped to one-up someone. I think you owe her an apology, or you should leave.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was a long pause. Everyone wondered what would happen next, plates in hand.<\/p>\n
Leona took a deep breath and looked at me. \u201cYou won,\u201d she muttered and sat down dejectedly. Before Jeremy could say another word, I walked over to my mother-in-law, got on my knees before her, and took her hands in mine. \u201cLeona, this isn\u2019t a competition. I love your son deeply and I don\u2019t want this cold war between us.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked at me with new-found respect, and I could see the hatchet was buried. The war between us ended with a big hug and a great dinner, and although we still differ about things, we have grown quite fond of each other over the last few months.<\/p>\n
Here\u2019s a similar story about a woman who tested her MIL on Christmas.<\/p>\n
Am I Wrong for Testing My Mother-in-Law on Christmas?
\nNavigating the complex tapestry of family relationships can sometimes feel like walking through a minefield blindfolded. My story, a chapter from the diary of my life, revolves around a Christmas that was both an eye-opener and a heart-opener in its own unique way. My name is Sue, and this tale is not just about familial bonds, but also about the silent battles we fight in the name of love and acceptance.<\/p>\n
I married Richard, the love of my life, in a secret ceremony. It was just the two of us, exchanging vows in the most intimate setting possible. Richard comes from a world of privilege, a stark contrast to my humble beginnings. As a Black woman, I\u2019ve faced my share of adversity and prejudice, making my achievements all the more sweet as I\u2019ve built a successful career against the odds.<\/p>\n
Richard\u2019s mother, Diane, remained an enigma to me. We hadn\u2019t met due to our quiet wedding, and while Richard shared stories, I yearned to form my own impressions. My opportunity came during our first Christmas as a married couple. Eager to understand the woman who shaped the man I love, I concocted a plan: I would gift Diane two presents, one sentimental and the other lavish, to unveil her true nature.<\/p>\n
The sentimental gift was a hand-painted stone featuring her beloved cat, a token of thoughtfulness and care. The lavish one was a luxurious Gucci handbag, a symbol of the material wealth she was accustomed to. My hypothesis was simple: her reaction to these gifts would reveal the depth of her character.<\/p>\n
Christmas Eve arrived, and with it, a mix of anticipation and nervous excitement. Diane\u2019s reaction to the painted stone was one of polite indifference, a thinly veiled disdain for its simplicity and perceived cheapness. The moment was awkward, a stark reminder of the invisible barriers that still stood between us.<\/p>\n
Then came the turn of the Gucci handbag. Diane\u2019s eyes sparkled at the sight, a glimmer of approval until skepticism crept in, inspecting the bag for authenticity. Her remarks to Richard, suggesting the bag was bought with his money, stung with implications of my inadequacy and dependence.<\/p>\n
Richard\u2019s defense of me was swift and firm, asserting my financial independence and challenging his mother\u2019s preconceptions. It was a moment of solidarity, yet also one of revelation. Diane\u2019s reaction solidified my suspicions but also underscored the challenges we would face as a family.<\/p>\n
This Christmas taught me valuable lessons about love, acceptance, and the complexities of family dynamics. It highlighted the prejudices we carry, sometimes subconsciously, and the need for open hearts and minds. Richard\u2019s support was my anchor, a reminder that together, we could face any storm.<\/p>\n
As for Diane, I hope the Gucci handbag serves as a constant reminder of the day she underestimated her daughter-in-law. And somewhere, I can\u2019t help but wonder about the fate of the painted stone, a silent witness to the unfolding drama of our lives.<\/p>\n
Was I right in my approach? Perhaps not entirely. Yet, it was a step toward understanding and, hopefully, acceptance. In the end, family is not just about the bonds we\u2019re born into but the ones we choose to nurture and grow, despite the challenges we might face.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I\u2019ve always been a patient person. I got to practice my patience when my father remarried following my mom\u2019s death. So, when my in-laws tried to get me to break up with my husband before we could get married, I just used what I had learned earlier in life to withstand their onslaught. You know, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":4095,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4094","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-tales"],"yoast_head":"\n