The last serious relationship I had went on for a little over three years. We had been pretty serious, at one point even considering marriage. We knew everything about each other, more than we’d ever known about other people in different relationships. We went through car accidents, deaths in the family, moving homes, holidays, and all of life’s random, chaotic events. We went through a lot together.
But here’s the interesting thing — I never once met a single member of his family.
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Over the course of several years, I spoke with his mother briefly on the phone maybe two or three times. This was usually during special occasions, like holidays or birthdays. We’d discuss very surface-level topics: "I like blueberry pie, too." "Oh, yes, he loved the vinyl record I got him!"
On the other hand, we were up at my parent’s house almost every single week. We chatted over dinner, movies, hot tea, covering a range of topics from silly to deeply emotional. My family had almost become his family.
When a relationship ends, sometimes it’s ending more than the relationship just between you and your partner. It’s ending your relationship with their family, too. This calls into question an idea that enters any person’s head when they start seeing someone new, someone they really like: