I Kiss My Parents On The Lips & I’m Great, Thanks!!

Recently, my parents met my partner's parents for the first time. We had a lovely day filled with delicious food, card games, and chatting, but when it came time to part ways, I suddenly got a bit anxious as I said goodbye to my mom and dad. Why exactly? Well, in my immediate family, it's customary to express appreciation and love with a peck on the lips. We do it when we say hello, we do it after we open gifts or heartfelt cards from one another, and yes, we do it when we say goodbye. But, I am now almost 30, so I know that this is far from the norm for many American families. And that is why, when I bid my folks adieu that day, I had to actively remind myself, Okay, don't kiss Daddy on the lips when they leave. — a sentence I am well aware sounds disturbing to many. I was afraid, though, that my partner's family would think we were complete and total freaks and question what wildly inappropriate mess their son had gotten them into.

While I haven't personally experienced someone shaming me for kissing my mom or dad on the lips, every so often, a celebrity parent will post a photo of themselves kissing their kids on the mouth and I watch as Twitter users, Instagram commenters, and talk show personalities rip them to absolute shreds for this supposedly vile behavior. It's happened to Hilary Duff, David Beckham, Gabrielle Union, Tom Brady, and every time, I make a mental note to never publicly display this practice like the celeb in question just did.

I also think, What's the big deal? Then, I text my sister to laugh about how we're apparently disgusting because, even as adults, we'd kiss any member of our immediate family — yes, including my dad and brother, sorry not sorry — on the lips without a second thought.

Every person in my immediate family is affectionate and expressive, and I've always thought of this as a beautiful gift. As a kid, when my dad came home from work every evening, my parents would, without fail, kiss one another and embrace long enough that we kids would want in on the action.

I'd run to them, and say, "Elevator open!" and they'd make just enough room in their hug for me to squeeze myself in and soak up the sweetness. Our Christmas cards usually featured me, my sister, and my brother, not just lined up side-by-side in coordinated festive outfits but with our arms wrapped around each other in a completely unstaged way, because that's just how we were in repose.