I’ve spent years chasing the perfect Thanksgiving—the kind where your mother isn’t crying over mashed potatoes, your aunt isn’t interrogating your love life like she’s hosting CNN, and no one is threatening to storm out because someone said: “Well actually, the election—”
But here’s the truth:
Most of us aren’t looking for turkey. We’re looking for peace, validation, and maybe someone to say,
“You’re doing okay.”
Instead, we get:
- passive-aggressive casserole critiques,
- emotional flashbacks to 2009,
- and a cousin whose personality is 90% crypto.
- Thanksgiving is less a meal…
and more a performance review you didn’t ask for.
Why We Still Go
Because society told us we’re monsters if we don’t. Thanksgiving is the Super Bowl of guilt:
- Family tradition
- Obligation
- “You’ll regret it if someone dies”
- “It’s only once a year”
- “Stop being dramatic”
Translation? Sit down, eat turkey, and pretend your unresolved childhood trauma is “holiday spirit.”
The Secondhand Trauma Olympics
Every table has a character roster:
- The interrogator — wants to know your job, income, dating status, and ovulation cycle.
- The martyr — cooked for 19 people but needs applause every 7 minutes.
- The conspiracy uncle — “Birds aren’t real and neither is the IRS.”
- The quiet cousin — your favorite, because you silently text each other under the table.
- The toddler — feral. Always sticky. No one knows why.
And then there’s you:
Trying to look stable while buttering bread like it’s Xanax paste.
What You’re Actually Asking
You’re not asking if you can skip Thanksgiving. You’re asking:
“Am I still a good person if I protect my peace?”
Yes.
You’re not a villain because you value mental health more than cranberry sauce. Let me put it in Salty Vixen math:
If seeing Uncle Ron adds +70 anxiety points and mashed potatoes give +10 serotonin, the mental ROI is garbage.
So… What Do You Do?
I’ll give you three paths:
1. The Pop-In-and-Leave
Show up. Smile. Stay 45–90 minutes. Leave with leftovers like you’re robbing a bank. No one ever remembers the exact moment you vanished.
2. The Friendsgiving Pivot
Find people who:
- don’t interrogate your relationship status,
- actually ask how you’re doing,
- respect boundaries,
- and don’t think your value is tied to your reproductive system.
Friendsgiving is Thanksgiving with a consent form.
3. The Nuclear Option: “I’m Not Coming”
You know what happens?
Absolutely nothing. They’ll talk about you for 20 minutes, someone will say:
“She’s changed,” and then everyone will go back to arguing about gravy.
And you’ll be home, eating whatever the hell you want, watching trash TV, feeling no shame.
So… Do You Have To Go?
Let me tell you the Salty Vixen way:
“Sweetheart, the only turkey you’re required to entertain in life is the one you roast.”
Thanksgiving isn’t a moral test. It’s a tradition created by people without therapy. Protect your sanity.
Protect your energy. Protect the version of yourself who’s still healing. Your worth is not determined by how many relatives you tolerate.
