I knew about the concept of in-laws before I even had in-laws. The Golden Girls, The Facts of Life, Silver Spoons, Growing Pains, Three’s Company…I grew up on television shows that always insinuated something about your non-blood related family: it could be torturous.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the families we all belong to. There are some that have nothing to do with choice – biological families are just handed to you. You have no more say over them than you do over your own existence. And then you have your chosen family – the peeps you meet over the course of your life where you just love ’em so much you call them family because they know more about you than anyone and put up more from you than anyone.

And then there’s in-laws. Not biological, and not technically by choice. They come with the partner you pick, but you have no control over what kind of family your partner belongs to, so it’s not by choice, voice, or preference.

In-laws, it seems, can be like the luck of the draw. I know so many people whose lives are lived in strategic plans to actively AVOID spending time with someone they’re in-lawed to, or at the very least goes through the holidays half wishing they were someplace else so they didn’t have to deal with __________ . And every time I hear that, I cringe. And I feel bad.

I met my in-laws well before I even thought of Nick as my future partner. I thought they were as delightful as anyone could possibly be, and never thought anything of it. Until I realized I was in love with their son/brother/nephew/cousin. And suddenly I had an entire world of people I would consider “family.”

It’s one of the things I know I take for granted – how I breeze through holidays and family get togethers with little to no anxiety about how my in-laws would react to xyz. I suppose I could credit Nick’s entire family for just being great people, but there is a particular phrase that I find hear spoken by his family that I truly wish more people practiced in the life: “I don’t care.”

Now, don’t get me wrong. Nick’s family is crazy caring, but they just don’t care about the fringes. His siblings are professionals and make good livings for themselves and families, but they’re not luxurious folks. As Keith says, “C’mon. Let’s not try to pretend we’re better than what we actually are.” Or how I used to care about what kind of clothes I wore to dinner in their house. It’s not like I wear sweats and a rip off tshirt, but showing up in jeans and comfortable hoodie garners no extra glances. I guess I’ve always thought that most people are constantly trying to prove something to other people, the “I don’t care about anything except YOU” is a welcome change of pace; a welcome cultural shift in perspective.

So often holidays evaporate into the meaningless and consuming aspects of preparation, details, food, tradition, aesthetics, and propriety. And then there’s travel, stress, relationships, and …and…and…

I’ve been laying here in bed, nursing a bad case of fatigue and a headache, while reminiscing how friggin lucky I am to not only have a family of origin that loves me, but a second family of in-laws who don’t treat me like an in-law. When I listen to my friend’s horror stories of drama and cold shoulder treatment and forced apologies and long periods of awkward silence, I inwardly breathe a sigh of relief and gratitude that I don’t have familiarity in that world.

A belated thanksgiving thought, but I am truly thankful for Nick’s family…