Friendship Beyond Blood: The Joy of Chosen Family

This New Year’s Day, Dee came to stay with us for a few days, and as always, it was a time filled with laughter, joy, and love. For those of you who don’t know, Dee (short for Dipika) is my best friend from university days. We met when I was in my first year and she was in her last, and we just clicked. Fast forward 20 years, and she’s no longer just a friend—she’s the sister I chose.

Considering that I’ve been estranged from my biological sister for over seven years, that says a lot. With Dee, I never have to filter myself. I don’t have to worry about what I look like, what I say, or how I act. I can simply be me—sarcastic humor, rebellious streak, and all. And she’s exactly the same with me.

Laughter, Memories, and the Magic of Fireworks

The atmosphere during her visit was lively and lighthearted, just the way I love it. The kids—my two daughters, Maanvi and Jiya, and Dee’s almost-teen daughter, Kiki—spent most of their time playing and giggling. Dee and I had plenty of time to catch up, reminiscing about old times and teasing each other mercilessly, as we always do.

One afternoon, we took the girls to their favorite sandwich shop for lunch. It’s a simple tradition, but it never fails to make them happy. Later, we exchanged Christmas gifts—a tradition we both cherish. The joy on the girls’ faces as they tore open their presents was infectious and reminded me how much I value these shared moments.

But the highlight of the visit was definitely the fireworks. That night, we stepped outside to light some in the crisp winter air. The sharp pops and crackles, the bursts of color against the dark sky, and the laughter echoing all around made it unforgettable. My husband supervised as Kiki, with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, lit a few fireworks herself.

I doubt Kiki would’ve had the chance to do something like this at home. Her dad is strict, and fireworks are probably out of the question there. But here, under our careful watch and with her mum’s quiet approval, she got to experience something new. The joy on her face was priceless—a mix of pride, wonder, and pure fun.

Welcome Home

Dee and I don’t have formal traditions, but there’s one ritual we always seem to follow. Whenever she walks into my house, her first words are, “It’s nice to be home.” And my reply? Always the same: “Welcome home.”

It’s a simple exchange, but it captures the essence of our relationship. My house is her safe haven, just as her presence is mine. There are no boundaries when it comes to our kids either. We co-parent effortlessly—her daughter is as much mine as my daughters are hers.

Kiki, whom I lovingly call my third daughter, has grown up with Maanvi and Jiya as her little sisters. Their bond is something I cherish deeply. Kiki looks out for them, and the girls absolutely adore her. I trust her enough to leave my girls in her care, and that trust is mutual. It’s just how our little family works.

Inside Jokes and Shared Comforts

Dee and I have this inside joke—one word that I only have to whisper to make her blush. I won’t share it here (she’d kill me!), but it’s the kind of playful connection that has sustained our friendship through decades.

And then there’s the way she feels completely at home in my house. She doesn’t ask where the tea or coffee is—she just makes herself a cup. Sometimes she even reorganizes my kitchen (which is both helpful and hilarious). She lounges in her PJs, and we sit and talk for hours about everything and nothing.

That’s what I love about my home—it’s a space where people can truly relax and be themselves.

What Dee Has Taught Me About Family

Being friends with Dee has taught me something profound: family isn’t always defined by blood. Sometimes, the people you meet along the way become the family you wish you had. Dee is my sister in every way that matters, and her daughter Kiki is my third child.

This visit made me reflect on how important it is to create a home where people feel safe—emotionally and physically. Growing up, my parents’ house never felt like that. There were always rules about how to behave, what to say, and how to act. I never felt entirely comfortable, and I doubt my friends did either.

I wanted my home to be different. Today, it’s a place where people can laugh freely, sit in their pajamas, and let their guard down. It’s a place where there’s no “right” way to act. And that’s the kind of home I want to offer not just to my family but to everyone who walks through my doors.

Holding Onto the Joy of Connection

This New Year reminded me of the joy that comes from simple things—shared laughter, a child’s excitement, and the feeling of being surrounded by people who accept you completely.

So, as this year unfolds, I’m holding onto that joy. Because at the end of the day, what makes a house a home isn’t the walls or the furniture—it’s the people who fill it with love and laughter.

What about you? What makes your house feel like home, or what traditions bring your loved ones closer? I’d love to hear your stories in the comments below!