Holiday Stage Fright and Other Stories I Told Myself

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

I felt compelled to write this blog post tonight because I want to share my gratitude for a lesson that I learned today and the friends who were my teachers...

Get ready for a Grinch story with a happy ending.

I don't do holidays well, (especially Thanksgiving). Lots of people have difficulties with the holidays  for all sorts of reasons, and I need to tell you mine so you'll better understand why this happy ending means so much to me.

When I was a kid, my folks were big on drinking. Back then, Thanksgiving generally consisted of  driving several hours from one state to another in order to celebrate the holiday with my maternal grandmother, whom I adored. My Grandmother and my mother didn't have a great relationship, so after they had a few cocktails, there would be disagreements, then arguments that turned in to heated yelling, that generally resulted in my mom forcing us to pack up and leave in anger.  (Usually this mostly happened prior to the Thanksgiving meal even making it to the table). It wasn't fun, and it wasn't pretty.

My parents eventually divorced, and part of the custody agreement was that we were to rotate holidays between both parents. The plan was that my dad would have us at Thanksgiving one year, then at Christmas the next. (We lived primarily with Mom, but Dad lived only a few miles away in the same town, so we saw him frequently). If it was my Dad's year for Thanksgiving, his wife went all out and cooked a huge and delicious meal for us.  Sadly, when it was Dad's holiday, my mom refused to accept the fact that she could not make a special dinner or spend the holiday with us. Her solution to make herself feel better was to make a huge turkey dinner early Thanksgiving morning anyway, serving it to us say, by noon, knowing that we had to go to Dad's for dinner at around 2 pm just to eat AGAIN. 

Now, I understand, (especially being divorced with kids myself), that not having your kids for a holiday is very difficult. (I didn't get that then, of course, so I had no idea what my mom was feeling). What came out of that experience during those holidays for me was that I came to view Thanksgiving as a nightmare "food fest" contest, created by my mom, that put us kids in the middle.  My brother and sister and I were forced to eat a huge meal with mom, then go to Dad's and do it all again a few hours later. We didn't want to hurt my dad or stepmom's feelings, so we sat at the table, already stuffed to the gills, and ate a second Thanksgiving dinner without saying a word about the meal we just ate with mom. Sometimes, I didn't think I'd make it to the end of a meal without throwing up - my belly was so full. I can't speak for my siblings, but for me, it was not ever something I looked forward to. I HATED Thanksgiving after that first year post divorce decree; rightly so. Every year after that, my folks tried to beat each other to the punch with the dinner every holiday, every year. There were no winners in this contest, trust me.

Don't get me wrong; Thanksgiving and Christmas food is great stuff; being forced to eat pounds of turkey and pie in a two hour period is, well, horrible. Feeling guilty that you might hurt someone's feelings by NOT eating their food was a huge burden. After my second year of dual holidays and eating too much food, I swore to myself I'd never go home for a holiday when I was a grown up. For me, Thanksgiving was not about love, tradition, "family togetherness," and celebration;  rather it was more about my parents not being able to NOT compete or not realize how hard it was for us kids to be put in the middle of "the crazy." I decided I'd have no part of that as an adult, ever.

I left home and eventually joined the military. When it was holiday time, I was happy to take duty over the holidays so that people who had kids or actually wanted to be with people they loved could go home. I do remember a particularly special Thanksgiving circa 1990 while in the military. I happened to have Thanksgiving day off from duty, and since I lived off base in an apartment, I decided to host an "Orphan Thanksgiving Dinner." It was a dinner for anyone who couldn't go home because of duty obligations, money issues, or, (like in my case), those of us that didn't want to go home. I was stationed in Florida. It was warm in November. Everyone who came brought a dish of food, we smoked a turkey, and had Bob Marley playing on the stereo. It was a reggae Thanksgiving. It was one of the best Thanksgivings I'd ever had, and of course, it's because I wasn't at home, in "the crazy." It validated that my decision to stay away from home on holidays was a good decision.

Fast forward: I got out of the military and married a military guy. We traveled all over the country, living in a total of nine different states. We were trying to make our own holiday traditions, (minus dysfunction), and mainly stayed home where we were stationed at the time. Many times, my (then) husband was underway on a ship or standing duty on Thanksgiving. Since I was never going home to be with my family for a holiday, I learned to think of Christmas and Thanksgiving as "Just another day" when my husband was gone. I did this mainly so I wouldn't be sad that he was not home with me, and that's how I handled the holiday "blahs."

One year, when my husband's ship was underway during Thanksgiving, I made a turkey breast for myself, and watched an X-Files marathon on TV for like 12 hours. I loved it! Another year, some of the wives, (myself included), whose husbands were gone on the ship as well, went to a very nice local Inn for their annual Thanksgiving Buffet. It was like a "Girl's night out" and we didn't have to cook or clean up, and again, it had the "orphan" feel to it. It was lovely. No pressure and more validation for me!

I've always envied people who couldn't imagine NOT going home for the holidays. I wondered what that must be like to WANT to see your family, dysfunction and all, because it was better to be with them than not be with them. What did it feel like to want to spend time in your home town after you'd been away for so long, seeing friends and family at a festive time of year? They make movies for TV about it all the time, and I watch them. The shows make it look wonderful and heartwarming to be at home for the holidays, but I could never relate at all.

Now I'm in my third year post-divorce. This year my kids are with their dad for the Thanksgiving weekend. It's not a big deal, really, because I said to myself, "It's just another day." My plan was to stay home, build a fire in the fireplace, eat lamb, (my kids hate it so I was going to cook it just for me), and I was going to be reclusive and enjoy the silence. I'd watch Lifetime holiday movies I'd already recorded on my DVR. I'd stay in sweat pants and not do any chores. I planned not to answer the phone in case someone called. I wanted people to think I was out having fun. So, I decided if I got any invitations at all, I'd bow out. I mean, when you don't have great holiday experiences, it's a bit foreign to go somewhere where holidays are a big deal. Besides, I didn't know how to act like I cared that it actually was Thanksgiving, and I didn't want to be the odd-man out in a family setting surrounded by people who loved being with family and loved the tradition of it all. 

Fortunately for me, no one asked me if I had Thanksgiving plans, and no one asked me over, so I didn't have to bow out! I was free!

A few days before Thanksgiving, Deb, a friend and colleague I've come to be very close to here in my new state and new life, told me via a Facebook message that I was going to be "her date" for Thanksgiving dinner at her daughter's home. (Her daughter is also a friend and colleague that I just love and adore). My immediate reply was, "Nope, thanks; I don't do holidays. I'm going to stay here and do paperwork." She said, "I'm not taking 'No' for an answer. I want you there. Susan wants you there, AND you'll get to meet my son!" I again replied, "Thanks, but no." I left it at that. I knew that Deb would know I just wasn't in the frame of mind to go, and she'd respect it. 

The next day, my first thought when I woke up was, "You will never belong anywhere if you remain reclusive and you will never be able to teach your children about the importance of family and traditions if you don't believe in them yourself."

I messaged Deb; "Hey, I've re-thought this; can I still come to Susan's house as your 'date' for dinner?" Deb replied back, "You never WEREN'T going to come. I wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer whether you liked it or not."

Hours later, another person I know, who I don't spend a lot of time with or see that often, called and invited me and the kids to come be with a group of friends for Thanksgiving dinner. They knew I might not have a place to go, not being from here, and wanted me to know I was welcome. I was incredibly moved that people cared enough to think of ME - the (secret) certified reclusive Scrooge of the winter holidays.  

I'll be honest; today my alarm went off and I wanted to stay in bed. I didn't want to get up and get ready to go be "with people." I was having stage fright. I finally had to tell myself this: "Look, you can make this holiday thing over for yourself. It doesn't have to be an awful "thing" for the rest of your life. If you want to belong somewhere, you have to participate in life and open yourself up to new experiences and possibilities." The thing was, I didn't want to let Deb or Susan down, either. They cared enough to invite me; I needed to show them that they meant something to me, and that was important.

Before I left, my business partner and friend shot me a text: "Hey - if you don't have plans, why don't you come spend Thanksgiving with us at my mom's house? We'd love to have you." 

I didn't have to make anything up when I kindly declined; I did have somewhere to be, but it was sure nice to be asked.

Let me tell you something - I had a beautiful, fantastic, and incredible day! I wasn't alone. I was with people and it wasn't terrible! Shocking! I was watching Susan cook and organize as her kids ran around happily talking to family and friends. We laughed and chatted. Deb showed up and gave me a huge hug and said, "I'm so thankful that you are my friend and that you are here today." I met her son and his girlfriend and learned a bit about them. I met some amazing friends who are a part of their lives who also thought nothing of including me, as if I belonged there just like they did. I ate turkey, ham, the fixings, sparkling cider, pie. I got full, then ate some more. I felt so thankful to be included and was so happy to be a part of something special; I felt I couldn't  ever repay their kindness of making me feel so welcome. They are incredible people who love each other and love being together. It was wonderful to witness that and I could feel the love in the air. It was a beautiful thing, and I am so thankful that I took the risk and got over the stage fright and got out of my bed and stepped in to my life.

My friends won't know until they read this post, I suppose, why I was so grateful and happy to be there, and the profound effect it had on me to be with them. They were just doing what came naturally to them; they wanted to share their traditions and their celebration of Thanksgiving with a friend. It was natural to them but so foreign to me. 

I realized when I was driving home what a gift I had been given today. I got to experience what I have been missing (and avoiding), yet craving all along. I came to see that my reclusiveness and my telling myself that holidays are "just another day" was a cop out that I've been using to protect myself from accepting the fact that I actually WAS sad that I chose to be alone when most people were happy and celebrating. That story I told myself kept me from taking a chance - from getting "out there" and becoming a "part of" something special: life and sharing it. What happened when I was a kid wasn't my fault and was something I had no control over. When I became an adult, I had a choice to change things regarding my feelings about the holidays, but I didn't do it. I kept feeling sorry for myself, and I found comfort in it. I kept living in fear of being disappointed, and in doing so, I validated the lie I told myself  - that I was "alone" and Thanksgiving was a rotten, horrible day I had to either suffer through or ignore.

Today, I CHOSE to get up and go out. In doing so, I let go of my old thinking, took a risk, and was blessed with the gift of being shown how wonderful it is to be surrounded by love, warmth, and friendship in a new place. I can no longer tell myself the story that Thanksgiving is "just another day" because it isn't true. Thank you, Deb and Susan, for not giving up on me and for sharing your day with me. What a blessing you are in my life, today and every day. 

HAPPY THANKSGIVING. I am so grateful to you for the lesson.

(and Wow! Can you guys cook!) 

Cheerth!