The Temperature of Invitations

Why is it that I usually go to places where I'm told, "Come if you'd like," but when I'm told in a pushy tone, "You absolutely must come!", I feel like, "It's not that I dislike it, but... it's kind of a hassle," unless it was a place I really wanted to go to in the first place? By the way, I will absolutely go to places where I'm told, "Don't come because it's embarrassing." Am I just being contrary?
Am I just being contrary?

This was back when I was excitedly thinking about who to invite to "Yuku Mitchi Kuru Mitchi" (a year-end special live concert by Mitsuhiro Oikawa held on December 31st).
"Huh? You're coming to my parents' house too. It's the custom for everyone to gather at my parents' house for the New Year," my husband said as if it were obvious.

It's fine that your family has customs, but what does that have to do with me???
And besides, you were right there watching me try so hard last year to take back "my own New Year," weren't you?

Last year, I spent four days and three nights at my in-laws' house, and I ended up suffering from the worst cold of my life, having overextended myself trying to be a good guest, which is how I spent my New Year.

I had proposed, "So, from next year, could we perhaps visit every other year, or if we do visit, keep it to one or two nights? What do you think?" and I thought I had received the okay from my in-laws.
So why?

That's what he said last year.
So I designated my father-in-law as the final boss, thinking, "If I can just get my father-in-law's permission, I can get back to my usual carefree New Year from next year, right?"
You were the final boss all along!

Being pressured from an unexpected source with "You have an obligation to follow the customs of my family," the Eren Yeager inside me is about to join the Survey Corps in search of freedom—no, I'm on the verge of a Rumbling.

Are you aware that I also have a family home?
I have my own 29-year-old "New Year's style," and if you want me to twist that and "follow your family's ways," isn't there a better way to ask?
Why are you spouting "You're coming to my parents' house too" as if it were a settled matter?

I was so unconvinced that I ended up venting my burning frustrations to a considerable number of friends I've hung out with recently, friends I've been in contact with, work colleagues, and so on.
To everyone who listened to my venting back then, thank you so much.

"My family's region has that kind of atmosphere too, so I can totally imagine the vibe... but it's a total mystery why you still have to defer to your husband's parents in the Reiwa era (lol)."
"Isn't it okay to just fight until you're satisfied?"
"I can just picture you, Tsuru-san, giving a presentation at your in-laws' house!"
"The hosts have it tough too, so if I were asked to make it every other year, I might actually be happy about it."
"How about hanging out at our place before going to your in-laws'?"
"Actually, it would have been better if you had discussed how to handle your in-laws when you got married. It's not right to decide unilaterally."

And so on. The stories and advice about my friends' in-laws were diverse, and it made me think that even though we say "in-laws," the way we interact and our mindset differ greatly depending on the generation, region, whether there are children, whether it's the main family or a branch family, and the atmosphere of the house itself.
Roughly summarizing how my friends themselves, or the people around them, spend their year-end and New Year holidays, it looks something like this.

・A huge battle erupts from "Follow the customs of my house." They ended up returning to their respective parents' homes as if they had broken up.
・Husband and wife return to their respective parents' homes (amicably).
・Go to the husband's parents' house for New Year's Day (I was barking, "It's not 'returning'!"), then go to the wife's parents' house.
・The wife (my friend) doesn't like her own parents' house that much, so she stays at her husband's parents' house every year.
・They divide the number of days spent at the husband's side and the wife's side exactly equally.
・They alternate years, "Husband's parents' house for New Year's Day this year, wife's parents' house for New Year's Day next year," so there's no inequality.
・Both are within the prefecture, so they make day trips to both houses on New Year's Day.
・Greetings via Zoom from both families and the couple's new home on New Year's Day. Because both of their parents' homes are far away. It's easier to get it all done at once.
・Staying at the in-laws' house is exhausting because you have to be considerate of each other, so they stay at a hotel.
・Complete freedom. Sometimes one returns, sometimes they return together, sometimes neither returns; it changes from year to year.

Hearing about how each family spends their time, I gradually began to understand why I am so resistant to my husband.

In my family, both my maternal grandparents and my paternal grandmother had a stance of "It's fine whether you come or not, but I'm happy if you do come" for both Obon and New Year's.
And my parents, of course, didn't demand that we "all gather when relatives get together because it's the custom!," and they rarely forced anything on us in the first place.

My maternal grandparents' house is in Saitama Prefecture, about two and a half hours away by train.
My mother's family, including my mother, were all people busy with their hobbies.
My grandmother was into dance and jewelry appreciation (window shopping), my grandfather was into shogi, reading, and watching baseball, my mother was into piano and writing, my uncle lived in America and was absent for both Obon and New Year's, and my aunt was into public baths and walking around town; each had their own hobbies and pursued them.

We children raised by such adults were basically set free, and during the New Year, we would choose how to spend our days on our own, such as going to the arcade or having snowball fights just among the children, or enthusiastically accepting the invitation from our grandmothers: "Does anyone want to go to the department store with me tomorrow? I'll treat you to Baskin Robbins!"

In years when we thought, "I want to play a little longer," our mothers would go home first, and we would extend our stay for a few days, riding the train home by ourselves, or a cousin who had become a high school student busy with part-time jobs would suddenly appear late on New Year's Eve and go home on New Year's Day, saying, "Let's meet in Tokyo again in a week!"

On the other hand, my paternal grandmother's house was about a 10-minute drive from our house.
Although there was a flow of relatives gathering every January 2nd to eat sushi and osechi, the atmosphere there was a lukewarm invitation of "Come if you can."
The start and end times were unknown, entry and exit were free, and no consideration was needed.

An uncle drinking sake and talking about the joys of fishing, a grandmother smiling and nodding along, an aunt, my mother, and I introducing books we read this year while snacking on someone's souvenir sweets, an uncle and my younger brother practicing Aikido techniques, an older younger brother sleeping in grandmother's bed, and my father watching the Ekiden alone from a little distance away.

Since the cousins would come as a couple some years, only the cousin would come other years, and sometimes neither would come, there was a part of me that thought, "Is that the level of distance for interacting with in-laws?"
As for me, once I had plans to go to the first shrine visit of the year with friends, or when I became a college student and started having plans for shrine maiden part-time jobs or chindon (street performance) early in the New Year, there were years I couldn't participate or years I just showed my face in the evening, and after my grandmother entered a nursing home of her own volition, the relatives who could participate on the 2nd started doing Zoom every year.
This is also a very loose gathering where, although the start time is decided, you can enter and exit in the middle.

Because of that, I have long been accustomed to prioritizing my own convenience and feelings, choosing how I want to spend my New Year's holidays.
You could say that having no particular customs or traditions was the tradition of my own family.
As a result, having been a "New Year's coordinator" since I was old enough to remember, I was taken aback by my husband's demands, confusedly thinking, "Huh? Isn't a New Year's where you can't choose how to spend your time not really a New Year's at all?" and I have arrived at the present moment with my bow and arrow held high, declaring, "The humiliation of being captured is the starting signal for a counterattack" (Guren no Yumiya). If he had said, "Come if you'd like," I don't think I would have been this troubled, so I keenly feel the importance of how one makes a request.

I hadn't really been aware of it until now, but it seems that the atmosphere of the homes where each of us was raised and spent our time has a significant impact on our value judgments.
I didn't think of myself as someone with such strong preferences, but I realized for the first time this time that the reason I jump up and say, "Wait a minute!" the moment I feel that "my freedom is about to be taken away!" might be strongly influenced by my parents' families and my parents themselves.

That, of course, also applies to my husband. He, for his part, is bewildered by my sudden transformation into Eren.
Nevertheless, whether I cry or scream, "I want my freedom!", for him, the tradition that "in my family, everyone gathers for New Year's" remains unshakable.
Why does he think that way, is that a tradition that should also apply to the wife who married into the family, and does he intend to reconsider that tradition?
Finding a middle ground that we can both agree on while patiently repeating such dialogues seems to be my homework for this year.

After all, we are just two strangers who have been given the unit name of "married couple," having lived in completely different cultures, environments, and human relationships.
Keeping that in mind, I want to create sustainable rules that are as comfortable as possible for both of us. Sincerely.

***
[Added December 10, 2023]
I am designating the above article as my "#2023 Ippon" (My One Best Piece of 2023).
"#My Ippon of the Year" is a regular project by Hasutsuka-san, who pours extraordinary love into rice balls.

I am very much looking forward to welcoming the New Year while reading the magazine.