I started dating my husband, Daniel, during our junior year of college. However, our relationship was mostly long-distance when we were away from school. Arkansas was my home base, and Georgia was his.
Once we graduated, we even maintained our relationship while traveling and living in separate countries.
We knew our ultimate goal was to get married, and we didn’t want to be in a long-distance relationship anymore. So, we discussed getting an apartment together, either in my hometown or his.
However, neither set of parents was happy about our potential plan to live alone together before marriage. Although Daniel and I no longer identify as religious, we both come from Christian families.
So, Daniel’s parents, Martin and Louise, offered a compromise: We could move into their house — we just couldn’t sleep in the same room.
Living with my in-laws before marriage sounded daunting, but it brought us closer
Laura Grace Tarpley
Religious motivation aside, Daniel’s parents also wanted to give us a break on rent since we didn’t have much money. By living with them, we’d be able to save for a down payment on a future home.
It seemed tempting, and we didn’t want to take their kindness for granted. We ultimately agreed to this setup (and got engaged about a month before moving in), but I had my concerns.
I worried I’d clash with Daniel’s parents over day-to-day issues. I liked them, but I didn’t know them super well yet. What if we got on each other’s nerves? I also didn’t like the idea of someone else’s religious ideals dictating how I lived.
Thankfully, though, most of my worries about living with my future in-laws turned out to be unwarranted.
We ate dinner together most nights, which meant I was lucky enough to enjoy an amazing home-cooked meal from Louise almost daily.
Martin and Daniel watched baseball on TV most nights, and I used the opportunity to learn about the sport and eventually became a ride-or-die Atlanta Braves fan.
Despite spending time together often, I still felt like I had my space. My in-laws both went to sleep early because they had to wake up early for work, so Daniel and I still had at least a couple of hours to ourselves at night.
Of course, we still had our problems. I still feel bad about repeatedly forgetting there was no garbage disposal and tossing eggshells into the sink, and I was constantly worried about waking them up at night since they were in bed by 9 p.m.
But overall, living together was a positive experience.
I got to know my husband and in-laws in ways I never would have otherwise
After 10 months, Daniel and I got married and moved out on our own. Looking back, I definitely found it valuable to live with him before we made that commitment.
Although Daniel and I slept in separate rooms, living under the same roof still offered a useful preview of married life. It also gave me a profound understanding not just of how Daniel acted, but of why.
Some of this was small. When he visited my family and stacked dishes in the sink instead of immediately putting them in the dishwasher, I considered it rude.
After about 20 meals with his family, I realized they always waited until the sink was full to load the dishwasher. He wasn’t being lazy — he was acting in the way he had been raised.
Plus, it helped me better understand my future in-laws. Because of this, we rarely, if ever, have argued about them visiting or one of them hurting my feelings. This removes a layer of potential problems in my marriage.
Living with Daniel’s parents could have strained my relationship with them, but it did the opposite. It brought us closer.
Our time together became even more valuable years later
Laura Grace Tarpley
My time living with them became relevant again about a decade later when my father-in-law was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.
Daniel and I were ready to move back in and help however we could. We ended up only having a few weeks with Martin before he died, and stayed for a while after to help Louise tie up loose ends, plan the funeral, and spend extra time with her.
For many people, living with their in-laws for six weeks would be beyond difficult. The emotional, stressful situation still made it hard at times.
However, I was used to living with Louise. I didn’t have to tiptoe around the family. I knew how the dynamic worked.
Not only could I live with them for six weeks during a life-altering time, but I was more grateful than ever that I lived with them nearly a decade earlier. I realize now that I wouldn’t have gotten to know Martin as well if I hadn’t lived in his home.
