The misery of CHRISTMAS WITH MY IN-LAWS

Spending the festivities with her husband's family reduces India to tears

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This year, my husband, two little girls and I are heading to my in-laws for Christmas.

You may think that, despite some perhaps inevitable frictions, I'd be looking forward to festivities that I wasn't responsible for, with no cooking, cleaning or preparing to do.

But my goodness, I'd slave for months if it meant not having to endure the mediocre Christmas my husband's family lay on. From awful food to sloppy clothing - not to mention the rudeness of his relatives - the alternate years that we spend at his parents' house leave me feeling, at best, disappointed and joyless and, at worst, utterly miserable.

My experience will be familiar to anyone who has ever despaired at forgoing the comforting routines of how their own family do Christmas and being forced to follow the traditions of another clan.

We're all inclined to believe that our own ways are best, and many of my friends also despair at those years they have to celebrate with the 'other' grandparents. But I doubt any of them have ever had to endure a Christmas that's so diametrically opposed to the one they grew up with as me.

Family traditions

The first Christmas I spent with my now-husband James' family 16 years ago reduced me to tears. I'd just turned 21, and the festive season for me had always been synonymous with glamour, sparkle and convivial cheer.

In my family, around 30 of us - siblings, grandparents, aunts and cousins - gather round the table at a special hotel or country pub, close to where I grew up in Harrogate. We never celebrate it at home.