I regret taking my new boyfriend to Easter celebrations with my mother.

I’ve already regretted taking my new boyfriend, Javier, to the Easter get-together at my mother Carmen Fernández’s house a thousand times. You’d think a family celebration would be lovely: Easter cakes, painted eggs, everyone together at the table. But seeing the number of people crowded into my mother’s house, I felt like turning around and running. My three sisters—Lucía, Sofía, and Paula—had arrived with their husbands and children. Plus, there was Mom’s brother, Uncle Francisco, with his wife and two adult children. And to top it all off, some distant relatives whose names I barely remembered. And in the middle of that family hurricane were Javier and me, my new boyfriend, whom I decided to introduce to the family. I wish I hadn’t.

The adventures began from the very beginning. As soon as we stepped through the door, my mother launched into Javier’s face with questions: “Javier, what do you do? How old are you? What are your plans?” Javier held his own like a champion, answering calmly and with a smile, but I could tell he was tensing up. My sisters, as if they’d agreed, decided to subject him to a real interrogation. Lucía, the oldest, blurted out that her husband had just gotten a promotion and that they’d bought a new SUV. Sofía boasted that her daughter was already dancing flamenco and performing in theaters. Paula, the youngest, wasn’t helping matters, whispering to me mockingly, “Wow, sis, where did you find one so young?” Javier is five years younger than me, and that seemed to be the revelation of the evening.

Carmen, my mother, decided that her mission was to feed Javier until he burst. She served him pieces of roscón (a type of cake) nonstop, saying, “Eat, son, you’re very thin, we need to gain weight.” Javier timidly thanked me, but I could see how hard it was for him to deal with such generosity. Then Mom got nostalgic: “Look, Javier, when our little girl dreamed of marrying a pilot. You’re not one, but you’re a handsome boy, don’t let her down!” The table erupted in laughter, and I wished I could disappear. Javier smiled, but I knew he was uncomfortable.

Uncle Francisco, Mom’s brother, decided to test Javier. He poured him a sip of homemade wine and toasted: “To the young! But, kid, do you know we’re strict in this family? The women here have character!” Javier nodded and drank, but I noticed how he was squeezing my hand under the table. And when Uncle suggested we go out into the yard to “demonstrate how he chops wood,” I couldn’t take it anymore. “Dude, stop it! He’s not a lumberjack!” I blurted out. Everyone laughed, but Javier seemed to be mentally searching for a way out.

My sisters’ children added to the chaos. The cousins ​​ran around the house screaming, knocking over a vase of flowers. One of them, Sofia’s son, approached Javier and blurted out, “Are you going to be our new dad?” I almost choked on my horchata. Javier, to his credit, didn’t flinch: “I’m just Javier for now, but I can be your friend.” The boy nodded and took off, and I mentally applauded him for his composure.

But the worst was when they brought up my past. Lucía, as if by accident, mentioned my ex-husband: “Well, the other one was older, with a good position, and now you’ve gone young?” I felt my cheeks burn. Javier pretended not to hear, but I knew it hurt him. Mom, trying to ease the tension, began to tell me about how I used to make roscones when I was little, but it only made things worse. My sisters and Uncle Francisco reminisced about my old boyfriends, my pranks at school, and even that time I burned a curtain at a family gathering years ago. Javier listened, smiling, but it was clear he felt out of place.

By nightfall, I was at my limit. I wanted to grab Javier and leave. But he, as if sensing it, whispered to me: “Relax, I’m fine. Your family is… intense.” And that’s when I realized he was going through it for me. That gave me strength. When everyone toasted again, I dared to speak: “Thank you for being here,” I said. “But I want you all to know that Javier is important to me, and I’m happy with him. So let’s celebrate Easter without interrogations, okay?” Mom nodded, my sisters fell silent, and Uncle Francisco raised his glass: “To a woman of character!”

By the end of the night, the mood had softened. Javier and I even danced to some oldies Paula played. I realized that, despite the circus, this moment with my family mattered to me. Yes, they may be insufferable, but they’re my family. And Javier… he had weathered it with grace. As we got in the car to leave, he looked at me and said, “You know, your mom’s right. You’re a girl you can’t let down.” We laughed, and I knew that crazy day had brought us closer together.

Now I’m thinking that next time we’ll just go to Mom’s house for coffee, without so many people. Or at least I’ll ask my sisters to keep their jokes to themselves. But I’m sure of one thing: Javier is worth all these family gatherings.