The Thanksgiving You're Allowed to Have

It's the week of Thanksgiving, and you're probably already exhausted. Not from cooking or planning—from the weight of expectation. Here's what I wish someone had told...

Nov 18, 2025

It’s the week before Thanksgiving, and I need to tell you something.

You’re allowed to have a mediocre Thanksgiving.

You’re allowed to not be grateful for everything. You’re allowed to feel stressed. You’re allowed to order dessert instead of making it from scratch. You’re allowed to say no to hosting. You’re allowed to leave early.

You’re allowed to stop performing gratitude and actually feel it.

The Performance of Thanksgiving

Here’s what makes me insane about Thanksgiving: We’ve turned it into a performance.

The perfectly set table. The homemade everything. The going around the table saying what you’re grateful for while Uncle Jerry makes inappropriate comments and Aunt Linda passive-aggressively critiques your green bean casserole.

We post photos of the beautiful spread. We caption them with heartfelt gratitude. We smile through family dysfunction and call it “tradition.”

And we’re exhausted before we even sit down to eat.

I spent years doing this. Years making myself smaller at holiday tables. Years swallowing my real feelings and serving up the performance everyone expected.

Until I realized: This isn’t what gratitude is supposed to feel like.

Real gratitude isn’t a performance. It’s not something you display for others or prove with homemade pies.

Real gratitude is quiet. Personal. Sometimes messy.

And it doesn’t require a perfect Thanksgiving to be valid.

What My Childhood Taught Me (That I Had to Unlearn)

Holidays in my childhood were... not great.

There was fighting. There was disappointment. There were impossible expectations that no one could meet. Birthdays were painful. Christmas was stressful. Every holiday came with a side of walking on eggshells.

And I learned that holidays were dangerous. That joy could be taken away. That showing excitement meant setting yourself up for disappointment.

So I stayed cynical. Protected. Braced for impact.

But here’s what I realized as an adult: I don’t have to stay there.

My brother did. He’s still stuck in “holidays are terrible” mode. Still cynical. Still avoiding. Still letting our childhood dictate his present.

And I get it. I really do. The pain was real. The dysfunction was real.

But I refuse to let that be my forever.

I’ve worked too hard in therapy to let my past ruin my present. I’ve done too much healing to stay stuck in patterns that don’t serve me anymore.

So we make our own Thanksgiving now. And it’s nothing like my childhood.

What Thanksgiving Actually Looks Like Now

We don’t host everyone. We don’t run around to multiple houses trying to please all the grandparents.

We do what we want.

Some years, that’s having people over. Some years, it’s just us. Some years, we go somewhere. Some years, we stay home in our pajamas.

And I make no apologies for it.

Because here’s what I know now: Boundaries aren’t mean. They’re how you protect the good things.

My kids will remember Thanksgivings where their parents were present—not stressed, not overwhelmed, not trying to please everyone else.

They’ll remember laughter. They’ll remember feeling safe to be themselves. They’ll remember that holidays are about connection, not performance.

That’s what I want them to carry forward. Not the stress. Not the obligation. Not the walking on eggshells.

The Gratitude No One Talks About

Here’s what I’m actually grateful for this year:

I’m grateful that I can recognize when I’m overwhelmed and do something about it.

I’m grateful for therapy. For the years of work that taught me I don’t have to stay stuck in old patterns.

I’m grateful that I built in a long weekend right before things got busy—because I knew I’d need it.

I’m grateful for the boundaries I’ve set, even when they made people uncomfortable.

I’m grateful that my kids go to school, giving me the breaks I need to show up for them fully.

I’m grateful for the massage I finally let myself get—the one where I released tension I didn’t even know I was holding.

None of this looks like a greeting card. But it’s real.

And that’s worth more than any perfectly staged Thanksgiving photo.

What You’re Allowed to Do This Week

As you head into Thanksgiving week, I want to give you some permission slips:

You’re allowed to:

Say no to hosting (even if you “always” do it)
Buy the pie instead of making it
Leave the family gathering early
Set boundaries about topics you won’t discuss
Feel stressed and tired and not-very-grateful
Have complicated feelings about family
Skip traditions that don’t serve you anymore
Create new traditions that do

You’re not required to:

Make everything from scratch
Stay at gatherings that drain you
Pretend everything is perfect
Perform gratitude for anyone else
Sacrifice your peace for someone else’s comfort
Continue patterns just because “that’s how we’ve always done it”

The Real Work of Gratitude

Here’s what I’m learning about real gratitude: It’s not about denying the hard stuff.

It’s not toxic positivity. It’s not pretending everything is fine when it’s not. It’s not performing thankfulness while you’re drowning.

Real gratitude is being able to hold both.

I can be grateful for my husband AND acknowledge that we’re working on communication. I can be grateful for my family AND set boundaries with them. I can be grateful for the holidays AND recognize that they’re complicated for me.

Gratitude doesn’t mean everything is perfect. It means you can see the good even when things are messy.

And sometimes? The thing you’re most grateful for is the boundary you set. The gathering you skipped. The tradition you let go of.

That’s valid too.

This Thanksgiving, Choose Yourself

I know what it feels like to believe that choosing yourself is selfish.

To think that setting boundaries means you’re difficult. That saying no means you’re ungrateful. That protecting your peace means you’re not a good family member.

But that’s the old story. And you don’t have to keep telling it.

Choosing yourself isn’t selfish. It’s how you stay present. It’s how you protect what matters. It’s how you show up as the version of yourself you actually want to be—not the small, stressed, performing version everyone expects.

So this Thanksgiving? Do what you need to do.

Make the homemade pie if that brings you joy. Buy it if that saves your sanity.

Host the gathering if you genuinely want to. Say no if you don’t.

Go around the table sharing gratitude if that feels meaningful. Skip it if it feels forced.

Make it yours. Not a performance. Not an obligation. Yours.

Because the best Thanksgiving isn’t the perfect one. It’s the one where you’re actually present. Where you’re not pretending. Where you’re not performing.

It’s the one where you get to be you.

And that’s something to actually be grateful for.

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