Why it took 6 months to tell my in-laws I was in a relationship

I met and made friends with Ryan 14 months after my husband died. Ryan and I took our time getting to know one another: we both have kids, and our own custom-made emotional baggage. It wasn’t until late February of 2019 that we graduated beyond friendship to a “relationship.”

While I might never want to get married again, or even live with someone, I didn’t start this relationship casually. I was committed to seeing how long we could last. And yet: it took me six months to tell my husband’s parents that I was seeing someone.

They visited us for Easter, and I still couldn’t make myself say the words.

In fact, I didn’t tell them about my boyfriend until August, when Ryan and I were in my car with our sons, en route to my husband’s family’s annual reunion.

Four hours into the drive, even.

Good intentions, but …

I’d meant to tell them earlier. Ideally in person, but over the phone would suffice. I didn’t want them to find out from a stranger … and yet, part of me did want them to find out, without my having to tell them. Early in the summer, I told my brother-in-law and his wife about Ryan, half-hoping they’d pass the news along to his parents.

I wrote about my “friend” Ryan in a May Medium story, and mentioned my “boyfriend” in August. Subtle.

Why was it so hard?

I’m a fiercely independent, 39-year-old writer: I don’t usually have a problem telling friends/family/the internet what I’m up to. I was incredibly nervous about telling Brock’s parents I was in a new relationship, and simultaneously baffled by why I felt this way.

My in-laws are amazing people. Brock’s entire, very large family are all kind, generous, loving people. My reluctance had nothing to do with them.

Eventually, I realized I was projecting my own anxieties onto my in-laws.

A widow’s truth: nothing is for sure

When you’ve lost your life partner, it’s hard to believe that anything is permanent. I understood that this new relationship could end at any time: why would I bother to tell Brock’s family, and stir up any fresh grief, when there might be no boyfriend by our next visit?

Feelings are uncomfortable

At the same time, I was nervous about falling for someone new. Maybe because of Brock’s death, I’d walled up my feelings: I didn’t want to be vulnerable again. And, if I let myself feel anything for Ryan, and admit to others that I felt something for him, that might let other, less happy feelings creep out: my long-suppressed grief, helplessness and anger at Brock’s illness and death.

But I knew I had to tell Brock’s parents that I had a boyfriend. Maybe that was why I invited Ryan and his sons to join us at the family reunion: because it would force me to say the words when I introduced him to all those relatives.

My in-laws’ reaction

I could have also titled this: “How best to respond when your daughter-in-law tells you she’s dating someone new.”

My in-laws are wonderful people, and they proved it with how they reacted to my news during that terrifying phone call.

Immediately, my mom-in-law confessed that this had been their hope, that I’d find someone new. If anyone other than my in-laws said this to me, I’d be angry and upset. But coming from Brock’s parents, this was the best reaction.

They said they were excited to meet Ryan, and his kids.

And: they didn’t make me feel bad, for keeping this relationship from them for six (!) months.

Your reaction matters

To those of you reading this who know a widow: if they find someone new, please go easy on them. There are so many complicated feelings that come when we open our hearts to love again.

And, if you’re dealing with your own loss: go easy on yourself. I lost Brock 29 months ago, and I’m still recovering. You aren’t alone.

Me and Ryan, bravely taking the (polar bear) plunge in February 2020. In matching penguin undies, even.

(Originally published on Medium.com on March 13, 2020.)

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How a sales course taught me how to have more meaningful conversations & deepen my relationships

As you can see from my fantastic wallet, shown above, I hate small talk. By which I mean: shallow verbal interactions where nothing important or memorable is said.

But this winter I signed up for a sales course at Mountain Hub, led by Sue-Rose Read of Oneberrie, and I soon realized: I’m the one perpetuating the small talk. It’s my own fault.

And, more importantly: I can fix it.

Here are some of the insights Sue-Rose offered during that course. If you use them, they can transform your routine interactions too.

First: a look in the mirror

(As demonstrated by this very Medium story …) My default style is to “show up and throw up.” In other words: I have something I’m excited about, whether it’s an idea or an adventure or whatever, and I shout it from the rooftops, assuming that the right people will hear me and benefit from what I’m sharing. A classic Heather interaction with a friend or acquaintance sounds like this:

HEATHER: “Hi. Do you know about [my Passion of the Week]? Let me tell you all about it.”

Or, if it’s a casual interaction, like seeing a familiar face at the grocery store, I tend to comment on the weather.

Yes, I’m that person.

Partly this is because I often mis-remember people’s names, and because I never know what to talk to people about other than my own Passion of the Week, and so I try to mask my social awkwardness with generic chit chat.

When it comes to listening to other people, I am consciously working at this skill (my husband, Brock, was a fantastic listener), but my instincts are to point out the silver lining of a sad tale, or come up with an action plan to fix the problem.

This is not what good listeners do.

Sue-Rose’s secret weapon: questions

Listening isn’t just silently nodding as someone else speaks: it’s asking questions.

We can ask questions:

to dig deeper into what the other person is saying,
to steer the conversation in a direction that interests us,
to prolong the conversation, which gives us time to really think about what the other person is saying, and
as an exercise is looking outward, rather than inward.

Curb your instincts

In a conversation, maybe (like me) your first instinct is to:

solve the problem;
match a story/statement with our own story/statement (or, worse, try to top the other person’s story somehow); or
answer a question, when it’s asked.

Instead, we can:

ask targeted questions (“how did that happen?”), or say: “tell me more about that.”
Meet a question with our own question: “That’s an interesting/good question. Why do you ask?”

I picture this sort of conversation being like a friendly hot-potato game: the challenge is to keep the talking-potato in the other person’s hands for as long as possible. To keep them talking. We (both) “win” when we really listen to what they’re saying, and ask good questions to demonstrate our interest.

Planning a conversation

For scheduled conversations, such as coffee dates with friends, a work meeting, or a family dinner, you can plan some questions in advance. Try to start a conversation with a question, rather than with a statement or by sharing your own story. (Or, if you’re like me, preaching about your Passion of the Week.)

Even small-talk-style interactions can be planned ahead: when you leave your house to head to the grocer’s, have some questions in mind. Instead of the bland “how are you?”, you could ask: “do you have any plans for spring break?” or “what does your family like to do in the winter?”

Why is small talk bad?

If you’re someone who enjoys connecting with other people, this “questions” approach takes you beyond the superficial: it deepens and increases the quality of your interactions, and of your relationships.

If you’re a preacher/cheerleader-type of person like me, who loves connecting people with useful information, asking questions allows you to better understand that person’s unique situation and needs. The information you might eventually offer will be more relevant and useful.

And, because you’ve connected with the person by having a meaningful conversation, they won’t feel like they’ve been preached or sold to.

Writer vs. good listener

I love my funny wallet, but I’m embarrassed by it now: I know that small-talk interactions are my own missed opportunities. My wallet has become a reminder to START with questions, and to be a better listener.

In fact, I’m painfully aware, with the wallet sitting beside my desktop now, that this post is another “show up & throw up” situation.

I’ll strive to demonstrate and practice my new listening/conversational skills when I respond to your comments. Please, go ahead: post a comment and let’s see how I do.

(Thank you so very much to my patrons for aiding & abetting my website & Medium stories.)

Heather McLeod

Tag Archives: relationship

Dear In-Laws: Meet My Boyfriend