This is not a prayer where we all hold hands and thank the lord, this is not a blessing on the turkey and mashed potatoes, this is not for you who have been making your Pinterest turkey-shaped placecards for two weeks and whose entryways are graced with a kitschy wooden sign that says,”Love Makes This House A Home.”
No, this one is for you, holiday-hater. You who don’t envision the glowing family sit-down happening for you tomorrow. Maybe because of death, distance or divorce, because of insanity, because of money or whatever else gets in the way of love or peace. You who don’t particularly feel like saying Thank You today, who think that spending $200 on Thanksgiving dinner kind of shits on the heads of American Indians, who gave us the corn in the first place and are now the most impoverished ethnic minority group in the USA. This is for you who will not be surrounded by people who are thankful for you this year.
No, you are not alone. And yes, this holiday is corporate nonsense wrapped in a facade of goodwill. Yes, there are others out there who have it worse than you. There always are. And yes, maybe you have told yourself that you will “make your own family” and that water can be thicker than blood, and if you are organizing a friendsgiving or crashing a friend’s parent’s or going to a buffet or ordering everything on the dollar menu at McDonald’s and holding your head high about it then I am proud of you. I admire you. You are one capable, brilliant individual.
And if you’re not, if you feel entitled and sad and angry, if you find yourself screaming at your father or you can’t just can’t, and you feel yourself against your will wishing that you did have a Full House family and Apple Spice Yankee Candles all over your house, I am still so proud of you. I recognize and validate your feelings of suck, I salute your ass and offer you a sisterly high-five. You are not a freak. You are one of us. And though we have to be stronger than everyone else, that makes us a little more sensitive, a little wiser. And when our authentic, candle-lit Thanksgiving comes (and it will someday, know it always will), you will feel it like the rest of them can’t. Your cup will overflow. You will embody the spirit of the holiday like a motherfucker, and you will spread it as far as you can. You will know the non-commercialized, the warmest, the realest real gratitude there is to know.