My in-town sibling is having a medical procedure next week that will not allow us to make the eight-plus hour drive back to our home state for Thanksgiving. Of course their surgeon doesn’t want them in a car for that length of time, and they’re the one with the road trip-worthy vehicle out of the pair of us, so we’ll be doing Thanksgiving in Athens this year. I don’t even have to pretend to be disappointed—they know how much I hate that long, slow drive through the scariest parts of the Deep South, and anyway, Mama is going to come here instead!
This will be our first Thanksgiving in Athens with our mother, and I’m thrilled to show her around and treat her to her every want and desire. I’m buzzing about the prospect of cooking my cornbread dressing for her, which evolved from her recipe and now shines with my own distinctive culinary touches (like mushrooms and carrots—just call me a hobbit). We’ll order our bird from that UGA meat shop everyone raves about, and I will be making the dressing and greens. I’ll ask Mama to make the hot water bread and giblet gravy, mostly so she can teach me how to do it.
To say that I’m relieved to be spending the holidays in Athens is an understatement. I’ve become sensitive to startles and yelling and loud noises over the years, and I begin to feel overstimulated and overwhelmed within about 30 minutes of inescapable screaming children and tipsy relatives cheering and reveling. I’m not good at lying much these days, either—if someone asks me how I feel about organized religion or Israel/Palestine or queer people existing, they’re highly likely to get my very honest answer. I don’t give a crap about telling somebody about how stupid and limited their worldview is directly to their face, and I’m also very prone to just taking walks and naps and completely avoiding everyone until it’s time to go. Y’all, I just enjoy my alone time and value peace and quiet enough to put it above any obligation I feel to show my face in a certain place. Just writing about my worst case scenarios is making my jaw tense and my ears throb like I’m standing in front of a subwoofer. It’s literally triggering a painful physical response in my body, so I’ll let go of any guilt I feel about staying in town on the 23rd.
Not every anxious person is going to get such a lucky roll of the dice this holiday season, and lots of folks are going to be trapped in situations that will absolutely wreck their physical and mental health for the sake of performing Thanksgiving correctly. It took me years to be comfortable with being myself in these environments, but that doesn’t necessarily mean being the loud, brash, confrontational leftie that I idealize in my mind. Being myself these days doesn’t encompass confrontation or arguing about rhetoric to the point of spoiling a family gathering. That also doesn’t mean lying about my views in order to keep the peace. I’m really talking about choosing to let things go, to not participate when I don’t want to.If you’re going to be stuck with close-minded or abrasive family members who want to argue about this or that, ask yourself what good comes of it. There is definitely good in expanding someone’s worldview with your own experiences or standing up for what you believe in, but it’s imperative that we pick our battles lest we end up a nervous wreck and feeling excluded. I’m saying that it may cause a person tangible harm to argue their right to exist to someone who’s set in their ways and determined not to give an inch, so focus on having conversations instead of arguments. Find your cool relative and chat with them about how life is going instead of bringing up your multicultural pansexual polycule to your MAGA uncle. I mean, does he need to know that? Would you have told him if you’d run into him in the grocery store randomly? No? Then protect your peace and pass the gravy. Share what you’re comfortable sharing, and don’t be afraid to end a conversation and walk away.
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