love me, love me...tell me you love me

I find myself telling people, "It doesn't matter what other people think" quite often. In fact, I sometimes tell myself that. It can sometimes be a statement of defiance. Kinda like, I'm going to go ahead and do this because I don't really care what other people think of me. It can sometimes be a statement of letting go. For example, Oh well, I blogged about it and if someone’s going to leave a hateful comment then I don’t care what they think.

However, I've been lying to myself this whole time. The truth is that I want people to like me. And this truth is most apparent in my life whenever I see Jesse's family.

From the get-go, I wanted Jesse's parents to like me. From the beginning, I knew that my relationship with Jesse would be unlike any other I had been in--special. If I wanted to be in Jesse's future, I wanted his parents to accept me. My first meeting with his mom was nerve wracking. She asked me many questions. And I answered them dutifully. Strangely, it didn't feel like an interrogation at all. I got the impression that she wanted to know everything about me. “Who is this girl that Jesse's spending all his time with? Is she different from the rest? Is she good enough for my son?” I completely understood where she was coming from. If my only son was getting serious with some girl, I would be curious about her too.

My meeting with Jesse's dad was different. It was maybe a week after I had met his mom. Jesse and I were riding in his car on the street his parents live on when he broke the news. "I think my dad's home." I wasn't mentally prepared to meet the other parent. Nor did I have the time to prepare myself. I started to whine. "Jesse, I'm not ready. I can't believe you're just now telling me." We parked in the driveway. Jesse and I walked up the walkway to his house and I was still whining. Right as I was telling Jesse for the 10th time, "I'm not ready to meet your dad," Jesse said, "Hey, dad." Jesse's dad was sitting on the porch and had listened to my whole whine session. He laughed as he introduced himself. I was mortified. Could I have made a worse first impression? Surprisingly, his dad has never brought that up and has always been cool with me.

As you all know, Jesse's coming home with me for Christmas. This is huge. Jesse has never spent any kind of holiday away from his family. His family is pretty close. When Jesse finally told his parents that he would be going to Cali for Christmas, I imagine that they weren't very pleased. If the tables were turned, I know that my mom wouldn't be very happy.

A few weeks ago, Jesse and I went to his parents’ house for dinner. His sister greeted us at the door. After saying hello, she turns to me and says, “So I hear you’re stealing my brother away for Christmas.” I was stunned. Oh great, I thought. Jesse’s family hates me. To give his sister credit, she followed up her statement with, “But I also hear that you haven’t been home for the holidays since you moved here! That’s great that you get to go this year.” Still, I continue to be plagued by her statement. I just want Jesse’s family to like me. I was beginning to think that they would forever resent me for taking Jesse from them for the holidays.

While spending Thanksgiving with Jesse’s family, I was hoping no one would mention California. During the after-dinner-full-belly conversations, they discussed something and my hope was renewed. His family mentioned celebrating Christmas with us right before we left for Cali. I breathed a sigh of relief. They still want to celebrate Christmas with us!

So maybe they don’t hate me after all. I hope.

Thank goodness.