The Joy Of Enemies

My Wife’s Enemies Are Now My Enemies, Too. The pleasures of a certain kind of in-law.

- Josh Gondelman

Until about five years ago, I got along with basically everyone. Sometimes, I knew, people didn’t care for me, but my impeccable get-along instincts and crushing fear of confrontation prevented things from coming to a head very often. And if I didn’t like someone, I’d try to never let them know, because even if the sight of them made my stomach curdle, I still wanted them to like me. I’d attempt to wear them down with relentless kindness until one of us moved to another city or died. But all that changed when I met my wife, who taught me the fine art of having enemies.

Here’s the thing. Under the best circumstances, as a relationship progresses, your life merges gently with your partner’s. Your friends become each other’s friends. Your families become each other’s families to whatever extent is desirable or possible. You grow in your capacity for joy and love, as well as for their corollaries, loss and grief.

All this is common knowledge.

A truth less frequently expressed is that along with your expanding set of group-text chains and work parties and framed concert posters, you acquire an increasingly vast assortment of enemies. Enemies-in-law, to put it more precisely. Childhood bullies. Estranged best friends. Snotty adult cousins. Professional nemeses. Celebrity grudges. Unaffectionate neighborhood dogs. These may be your partner’s enemies, and if you’re devoted, they’ll become your enemies too.