Home for the Holidays: A Battle Between Who I Was and Who I’ve Become
The holidays are supposed to bring joy, comfort, and connection. But for me, they bring something entirely different: a rush of anxiety that settles deep in my chest the moment I’m back in my parents’ home. I mentally prepare myself for foods I no longer eat, the quiet dismissal of my opinions, and the sensation of shrinking back into a younger version of myself.
Around my family, I’m not the strong, accomplished adult I’ve worked hard to become. Instead, I’m transported to the system I was born into—a patriarchal world where speaking up can be interpreted as disrespect. As the youngest of five, I’ve always felt like my voice didn’t matter. Last year, that belief was painfully reinforced.
At a sibling dinner, I opened up about my mental health, sharing that I was on the verge of a breaking point. I’d taken life-coaching classes, desperate to better understand myself and find balance. Instead of support, I was met with laughter.
An hour later, my brother handed me a frozen turkey, expecting me to cook it for the family the next day. That night, the weight of it all came crashing down, triggering a panic attack. The next day, while cooking the turkey, I burned myself so badly that I ended up with second-degree burns.
It was a cruel reminder of how powerless I felt in that space—a space where love and judgment are doled out in equal measure, often disguised as the same thing.
This year, though, I’ve decided things will be different.
Understanding the Source
After a lot of reflection, I’ve realized why I feel the way I do around my family. These feelings aren’t just reactions to current events; they’re rooted in my childhood. Growing up, I learned to hold my emotions inside because expressing them often led to dismissal or ridicule. Now, when I see my family, those old feelings rise to the surface. They’re so ingrained in my body that they seem to bypass my rational mind, leaving me anxious and constricted.
Reading The Body Keeps the Score helped me understand this phenomenon. Our bodies store trauma, no matter how “small” it might seem. And for me, family gatherings are like hitting rewind on a tape I thought I’d erased.
The first step, I’ve learned, is awareness. Recognizing that my feelings, though irrational at times, are still valid. They’re part of my experience, and they deserve to be acknowledged. When I wrote this article before, it was more about finding happiness with awareness in my own life, but I never thought about integrating this awareness when I’m with the source of the anxiety, my family.
Reclaiming Control
While I can’t change my family or how they treat me, I’ve realized I have control over one thing: myself.
I’ve built a life for myself that reflects who I am today—a life where I’m independent, strong, and capable. That’s something no one can take away from me. This year, when I step into my parents’ house, I’ll remind myself of that. I’ll take a deep breath and ground myself in the present.
Yes, I’m still my parents’ child, and they may always see me that way. I’m the youngest and my siblings will always see me as the babyBut I’m also an adult, with the power to make choices that honor my well-being.
Creating New Traditions
This year, I’m giving myself permission to set boundaries. If things get overwhelming, I’ll take a walk or practice yoga. I’ll remind myself that guilt doesn’t have to dictate my actions, and love doesn’t have to mean sacrificing my peace.
I’m also making room for joy—on my own terms. Whether it’s writing, stepping away for a quiet moment, or seeking a dish I actually enjoy, I’m choosing to focus on small acts that make me feel like myself.
Moving Forward
The holidays will probably always be complicated for me. Family dynamics are messy, and the wounds of the past don’t heal overnight. But this year, I’m taking a step toward healing by giving myself grace.
I’m not the same person I was as a child. I have agency, self-awareness, and the ability to choose how I respond. I may still feel the pull of old patterns, but I’m learning to loosen their grip.
This holiday season, I’m choosing to honor who I’ve become, even as I navigate the echoes of who I used to be. Because while family may shape us, it doesn’t define us. And that’s a truth I’m carrying with me—one holiday at a time.