Christmas felt completely different this year, even though I spent it with some of the same people. My host family from Frankfurt was here for 10 days. A whole ten days.
I love them to death, and I am eternally grateful for their generosity over the year I lived with them, but this visit reminded just how much like family they really are. You know what I mean… right?
I mean, in high school I used to get so upset with my parents that I would yell and sob. Or I would get so embarrassed by them that I just wanted to disappear. That’s part of being a family too.
The only thing with a host family is that you don’t have the unconditional love that real families do.
Now that I’m on the topic…
The first half of a year I was so afraid to do something terribly wrong and get sent away for it that I could never relax. They were just volunteers so if they got fed up with me they would just have to say the word and I would be history. I had seen it happen to other people.
The second half of the year I was so used to them that I almost wanted to be move. Not really, but that was when the other side of being a family kicked in. The little things start to bother one. The excitement had worn off. In marriage you would say that the honey moon stage was over.
In hind sight:
I understand how terrible it is for children who are adopted, especially if they have seen it happen before. Or for young married couples. Never let an immediate escape clause be part of a relationship. It sets it up for failure. Just stick it out. It’s after the grace period/ honey moon stage and the tough second stage that the lasting relationship begins. That’s why my host fam was invited to visit me.