I’ve never been able to pinpoint quite why I despise Thanksgiving. However, after a few costly therapy sessions and lengthy journaling, I have come to the conclusion at the ripe age of 20 that my detestation for the annual event stems from my crippling insecurities about where I’m at in my life.
Allow me to explain.
Each year, my nuclear family reunites with distant relatives, elderly neighbors and the like, to eat a traditional Thanksgiving meal. Because I don’t see my extended family often, each year I am berated by the same intrusive questions about my academic career and professional aspirations. Somehow, no one ever seems to remember my mediocre answers from the previous year. The inevitable interrogations begin without fail around the same time each year, after the first round of bread rolls are finished being passed around the table. In the past, when I answered my family’s questions truthfully, I have been unjustly bombarded with judgemental opinions and condescending responses from people I haven’t talked to in years.
I will share some personal anecdotes from some of my past Thanksgivings, just in case you are still confused about the source of my cynicism. For instance, when I proudly told our family friend, a Marine Corps veteran, that I was in Army ROTC, he laughed across the table from me, displaying an open mouth of half-chewed turkey, and responded with “No offense, but a woman isn’t strong enough to carry someone out of battle. I don’t know why any woman would join the army.” I looked around the table, expecting a caring family member to jump to my defense, but everyone else just looked down at their plates and proceeded to awkwardly change the topic to yet another one of my little sister’s recent academic awards.
It’s comments like these that have conditioned me to dislike America’s favorite holiday. Each year, I try and tell my family members snippets of my life that will give the impression of me they are looking for: an aspirational academic who cannot wait to join the wonderful world of corporate America. In reality, I hate school almost more than I hate Thanksgiving, and I am counting down the days until my life does not consist of late homework assignments, monotonous lectures and watching my friends drink themselves into oblivion each weekend.
Make no mistake, I think the other parts of Thanksgiving should be buried and forgotten about as well. My personal issues aren’t the only reasons I wish America would just fast-forward to Christmas. Football is usually bad, stores are always closed, traditional Thanksgiving food disgusts me and even Thanksgiving colors (orange and brown) suck. Not to mention, the holiday itself is a source of controversy because of its historically inaccurate implications that European explorers treated Native Americans well. Even in my subconscious, I pretend the “holiday” doesn’t exist, by attempting to put up Christmas decorations and decorate the Christmas tree before Thanksgiving break even occurs, to the dismay of my parents.
However, I have vowed to make this year’s Thanksgiving different. I refuse to be caught off guard this time. Call me crazy, but I’ve rehearsed several family-friendly, respectable answers in anticipation of questions regarding what I’m studying, what profession I want, what my grades are, why I dropped out of my sorority, what hobbies I have, etc.
Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t care less about what my distant relatives and their elderly neighbors think of me. However, I can’t help but think about the crestfallen look upon my sweet father’s face if he hears me tell my Great-Aunt-Ann the truth: my favorite hobby is rotting in bed in a pile of unfolded laundry and eating old Taco Bell while I watch Broad City re-runs. While there is nothing wrong with this (right?), it simply seems easier to say my hobbies include reading, cooking and working out.
So, if you feel like you are alone in your woes, you’re not. We all have “those relatives” who we just can’t quite seem to get along with, and Thanksgiving is a time when we are forced to confront the differences between us and some members of our families. At the end of the day, I love my family, even despite their quirks, and I am genuinely thankful that my family can afford food and take time off to travel to meet up in one place. Even if you feel like you are not living up to your family’s expectations, the only opinion of you that matters is your own. Plus, there’s always next year!
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