Families with deep ideological divides have a common coping strategy that becomes especially critical during an election season: Avoid political discussions at all costs.

But years of hyper-partisanship, vitriol, misinformation and strained relationships have led some to a more nuanced approach.

If the past few elections have taught Kimberly Kabak Epperson of Ferguson, Missouri, anything, it’s how to navigate potential minefields, she said. She and her husband hold different political beliefs than their parents. Her mother-in-law will post things on Facebook that Kabak Epperson finds offensive.

Still, “That’s our family -- our kids’ grandma,” she said. She created a boundary for herself: She will call out these posts, but refuses to engage in an online back-and-forth.

“I want to be clear where I stand,” she said.

If she sees something offensive posted by her mother-in-law, she might respond by saying, “That’s not acceptable.” She won’t try to change her parents' or in-laws' minds, but she will leave if their conversation denigrates others or goes against her morals and beliefs.

“I can only control myself,” she said.

Kabak Epperson said that once she communicates to a family member that she’s not trying to change their beliefs -- and tells them what it means to respect hers -- she’s better able to manage the relationships that she doesn’t want to lose. (She says there are some that have become unsalvageable.) The bottom line in these situations: Be respectful of me, or I’ll have to remove myself.

The dynamic is different when close friendships diverge on politics.

Kabak Epperson described a recent visit from her best friend from college, whom she has considered a close friend for 15 years. They have stayed in touch through texts, but had not spent time together in person for five years.

During the course of the weekend visit, her friend asked Kabak Epperson why she was going to homeschool her child. When she shared her reasoning, the friend dismissed her concerns, saying the issue was "not that big of a deal."

Kabak Epperson felt stunned. When she tried to explain further, her friend shut the conversation down, saying she didn’t want to talk about anything “controversial” that they might disagree on.

“It was hurtful for me,” Kabak Epperson said. “It broke a lot of trust. It’s been really weird to see these invisible fences arise.”

The rest of the visit felt awkward and uncomfortable, she said. It changed her perspective on the relationship because she realized she could not be her whole, real self around her friend.

She said she wants to try to continue the relationship from a distance, and to humanize the issues her friend described as “political” by sharing the ways they impact her family. Maybe something she says will influence the way her friend thinks about issues that have only been theoretical to her until now.

“I won’t try to confront her or change her mind,” she said. “But I will continue to live my truth.”

Kabak Epperson has also taken other steps to try to bridge the chasms that hyper-partisanship has created. A key aspect has been educating herself.

“I’ve been reading like crazy the past few years,” she said. She read “Jesus and John Wayne” to better understand the Christian evangelical movement. She’s more informed on the history of race in America. But she understands that not everyone is interested in having nuanced discussions.

“It feels like a minefield trying to talk to anyone these days,” she said.

So, she limits her energy to those who are in a true position of influence, such as members of her local school board. She volunteers for voter registrations efforts rather than engaging with trolls. When she encounters negativity online, she counters it with a donation or time spent toward a cause important to her.

“Budget your energy,” she advises. “And push positivity.”

My husband and I hit peak wedding season this year.

Many of our friends’ young adult children, whom we have watched grow up, reached marriageable age and met their life partners. Other friends, closer to us in age, found a second (or third) chance at love. Additionally, in our South Asian culture, weddings are a very big deal with ever-expanding guest lists.

This confluence of circumstances led to an influx of invitations: This spring and summer, we attended nine weddings, most with multiple celebrations, leading to a total of 18 wedding events.

This is more nuptial-related celebration than I’ve ever experienced in such a short period of time. It made me reflect on what this milestone event has come to mean.

In my adult life, I’ve attended more than a hundred weddings. I’ve seen trends come and go -- from pared-down, minimalist gatherings during the pandemic to the most opulent affairs in the immediate aftermath.

The Wedding Industrial Complex has benefited from the Instagramification of wedding culture. At the recent events we attended, there were photo backdrops for guests, signature drinks, custom signage and multiple photographers and videographers.

In the ambient cultural background was the Ambani wedding: a five-month spectacle in Mumbai earlier this year, in which the son of billionaire Mukesh Ambani tied the knot. Ambani is one the world’s richest billionaires, and his son's extravaganza cost an estimated $600 million. In a country where tens of millions live in poverty, this let-them-eat-cake display of opulence has a trickle-down effect on culture and consumption beyond India. It perpetuates the notion that extreme weddings are an aspirational norm.

Who wouldn’t want a blank check to throw the party of a lifetime celebrating the launch of their married life? Lavish parties are beautiful and fun and memorable -- and most of us would rather not think about the ethical implications of this kind of consumption. From the environmental impact to the opportunity costs of how else that money could be spent to cultural expectations, it’s a complicated calculus.

I’ve forced myself to think about it, and I haven’t come up with any easy answers.

In our culture, wedding celebrations play out over several days with specific traditions and rituals for different events. Families tend to be larger and most relatives expect an invitation. Weddings are also used as a way to mark social status.

In St. Louis, we’ve attended a handful of weddings at a nearby convention center because it can accommodate 600-plus guests more easily than most hotels. We traveled to an out-of-town wedding for which the hosts flew in a Bollywood singer for a private concert and hired a wedding designer who had also helped with Nick Jonas and Priyanka Chopra’s nuptials.

In the blur of this year’s weddings, the most memorable moments have been the ones where the newlyweds’ joy and love and their families’ happiness outshined the surroundings. The smaller, more intimate events created a strong sense of belonging. In the cases where we were closer to the parents than the bride or groom, learning the newlyweds’ stories made the events more meaningful.

I can’t recall all the details that I’m sure many brides belabored in their planning. But these moments were unforgettable -- a groom’s exuberant dance in front of his bride, a mother’s tears as her daughter walked down the aisle, a father’s heartfelt speech welcoming a beloved new member to the family, the look in a bride’s eyes gazing at her husband.

Each time I heard the officiant speak about the role of a life partner, I thought about the commitment to my own husband. I couldn’t help but imagine our own children’s future weddings.

I’m sure I will have to rein in my impulse to make those events as spectacular as I want without breaking the bank.

This recent marathon of marriage celebrations delivered a valuable message: The magic at a wedding is created by love.

When a photo of the luxe, elaborately decorated dorm of the daughter of an NFL team owner went viral, the Dorm Room Moms Facebook group was not that impressed.

To be fair, they appreciated the pink toile tufted ottomans upholstered in the same fabric as the elegant bedding. They noted the attention to detail. The oversize rug pattern matched the pattern on the dresser drawers with crystal cut drawer pulls. A bubble gum pink mini coffee maker perched on a stand next to a light pink Stanley mug, while a printed lampshade pulled the room together.

But several of the moms commented that they had seen many dorm rooms just as lovely in their own group. You don’t have to be the daughter of the Kansas City Chiefs CEO and part-owner to have a professionally designed, Barbie Dreamhouse version of a dorm.

Pottery Barn Dorm began marketing furniture and accessories to an affluent collegiate demographic in 2010. About five years later, photos of over-the-top dorm rooms, mostly at Southern schools, began circulating on social media.

It’s spawned an entire industry with dorm room registries at Target, dorm interior designers, retailers making custom-sized appliances and furniture, and hundreds of thousands of mothers scouring social media to help their children create an Instagram-worthy aesthetic.

In 2017, Refinery29 featured a young woman who brought custom-built shutters for her closet doors at Ole Miss. Her classmate laid laminated flooring in her room. The current trends include neon signs with the student’s name above a tufted custom headboard, vanity tables with surround lighting, and peel-and-stick wallpaper covering the walls and the university-issued furniture.

A week ago, House Beautiful published an article headlined, “The Stakes of Dorm Decor Have Never Been Higher.”

We need to lower the stakes.

For a generation that grew up on Pinterest and lifestyle influencers, it’s understandable that some would succumb to the notion that a dorm room is an expression of personal style that requires this level of planning and effort -- especially when peer pressure and competitive social media culture are involved.

But that’s when parents can offer a reality check rather than indulging in a dorm room amenities arms race. You only live in this shared space for nine months. Everything that is hauled there has to be stored, hauled back or discarded when you leave. Posters, photo collages, knock-off prints and throw pillows don’t cost much, and can create an inviting, cozy space.

I can understand the maternal impulse to create a beautiful landing spot for a child leaving the nest. At the first college drop-off for each of my kids, I didn’t want to leave until the bed was made and I had helped create some semblance of order in their rooms.

Part of the college experience ought to be learning what it’s like to struggle and persevere through challenges. Creating an illusion of perfection and extravagance sets up unrealistic expectations of what adult life is really like.

How will a new graduate’s first apartment measure up to these luxurious dorm rooms?

Some of the moms in various dorm decor groups share how they’ve managed to put together beautiful rooms on a budget by shopping at discount stores, finding deals and using DIY creativity. Perhaps this is an activity that helps deal with the emotions that come along with a big life transition, like sending a child off to college.

But wouldn’t it be better if the initiative and effort came from the child -- rather than the parent?

It’s hard to fight the temptation to buy fancy things they really don’t need because we are anxious about letting go. And it’s even harder when you immerse yourself in a subculture of competitive dorm decor.

Think back to what your own dorm room may have looked like. We were not deprived because we didn’t have a mountain of pillows or custom-made curtains. We found ways to decorate those cinder block walls and create memories that had nothing to do with how many likes our furniture got on social media.

Let’s call old-school dorm decor "vintage" and bring simplicity back in style.