Autonomy. Freedom.
These are things we all crave in life. We all desire to use the skills and abilities we gain through childhood, school, and life to carve out our own paths. Add to that the fact that we all have dreams and desires—autonomy is vital for our well-being.
But what happens when that autonomy is denied? What happens when everyone has an opinion about how you should live your life? And what happens when religion and rigid beliefs are thrown into the mix?
Chaos and resentment often follow.
Let me share:
As I mentioned in a previous blog entry, I was married quite young. I married the youngest child in a family with... honestly, I don’t even know how many siblings my wife has. It’s very confusing. It’s a lot, though—around 9 or 10.
As a result, everyone had ideas about how our lives should unfold. To make matters worse, we didn’t go with the status quo. Shortly after marriage, we left the town where both of our families had congregated. We moved around the United States for college, and then we left the U.S. altogether to work abroad. All the while, we heard endless commentary about our life choices, as though they were inherently wrong.
Now, that might not seem like a big deal, right? Almost everyone hears unsolicited opinions about their choices. The only problem was the religious undertone that came with it. Our religious background was quite exacting and controlling. Almost everything was regulated—how we ate, dressed, read, and chose to live our lives. It created the perfect avenue for endless guilt. And that guilt was weaponized against us many times.
Despite all of this, we were mostly happy with our lives. Sure, we regretted some of the things we did, but overall, we lived an adventurous—and maybe even enviable—life. My relationship with my wife was healthy. There was much love in our home. Our child was being raised far away from the drama we had grown up with. All was good. Too good!
And some people didn’t like that.
For them, the ideal was for us to “return to Spokane and live there.”
Over. My. Dead. Body.
I knew without a doubt that I had no desire to live the kind of life either of our families lived. Although our religion taught that the ideal was to live in the hills away from the temptations of society, I didn’t desire that life. I didn’t fully believe in it either (though I felt much guilt for this). I knew that living near family would not be healthy for any of us. And I knew damn well that living near my parents would drive me insane.
It just wasn’t going to happen—ever.
Yet, that didn’t stop the comments. And there were always comments and drama.
After moving to the Republic of Georgia, I decided to return to a former job in the U.S. for the summer. However, employee housing didn’t allow children, and since the resort I’d be working at was in a national park 40 miles from the nearest town, it was difficult to secure housing for my wife and child. The summer months meant housing was both scarce and insanely expensive. One of the least expensive short-term options was $2,000 a month. So, my wife decided to stay behind in the resort city of Batumi.
Some of her family had a fit!
“How dare I leave her behind in some foreign country?”
One family member even had the absurd idea to come and “rescue” her, bringing her back to the U.S. I was livid. But I was told not to confront him, as it would only cause more drama. Drama. Drama. Drama.
Where does it end?
I will say this: if anyone from either of our families ever came and butted into my life, it would cause a family war that wouldn’t end. This incident caused me to further distance myself from all my in-laws. I now avoid most in-law chatter because I’m just so tired of it. I’m tired of the constant critiques and drama. I’m tired of being told how to live my life.
To make matters worse, almost everyone in that family is divorced. The same person who wanted to “rescue” my wife was abusive to his own wife, who left him! Yet somehow, these people think they’re qualified to tell me how to live? It’s insanity. I blame intense insecurity. It runs rampant in both of our families.
After many years, I’ve realized that these things never end. You can’t reason with people who don’t listen. Instead, you either put your head down and endure it, or you say, “enough is enough” and back away. I chose the latter. I’m tired of dealing with madness that gives nothing in return.
One does not owe their in-laws anything. One does not let their in-laws dictate where they live or how they live. Family would do well to mind their own business—lest they lose all access to you, as has happened in my case. On my last visit to Spokane, as I sat there taking it all in, I wondered, “Why?”
Why have I invested so much time over the years... for what?
Some investments don’t pay off. Sometimes, you have to get out before the bankruptcy comes. That’s what happened here. Life is meant to be lovely, beautiful, joyful, and pleasant. When a family can’t provide those things, it’s time to ask yourself: “Is this madness worth it?”
For me—and for many others—the answer is a resounding NO!
Don’t feel guilty for standing up for yourself, reclaiming your sanity, and walking away while you’re young enough to create your own life. I did, and I’m so glad I did. Don’t make yourself a prisoner to a family that will never see you as an autonomous adult.
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