One of the hardest parts of healing from a broken family has been learning how to create a sense of belonging. Do you know how impossible that feels when no matter how hard you try, you can’t make everyone happy at the same time? You twist yourself into knots, hoping effort alone will be enough, but it never is.
When we hand other people the power to shape us into their expectations, we end up squeezed, poked, stretched thin—and still falling short. We might soothe others for a moment, but the cost is always the same: we abandon our own needs to do it.
What I’ve also learned—slowly and painfully—is that there is no way to please everyone. Every part of growing up in a broken family is a double-edged sword. There is no version of me that fits perfectly into what everyone wants. If I tried to make one person happy, I’d disappoint ten others. And worst of all, no matter who I chose, I would never be choosing what was best for me. There is no victory in that approach—only self-harm disguised as compromise.
There. Is. No. Winning.
The closest thing to a win comes when we finally decide to take our own needs seriously.
We get one life—just one. Don’t be afraid to take up space and serve yourself for once. You are not selfish for setting boundaries, prioritizing self-care, or refusing to sacrifice yourself on the altar of other people’s comfort.
This burden is heavy to carry all year long, but there’s one season that seems to magnify it until it’s unbearable.
Yes—you already know where this is going.
The holidays are coming. Have you paused for even a moment to think about what you need, or are you already spiraling over which parent you’ll disappoint and how you’re supposed to keep everyone happy? It’s no wonder the holidays fill you with dread year after year.
Listen to me—especially those of you already pulled into endless group texts, drowning in guilt trips, feeling like the knot in the middle of a tug-of-war. Pieces of your heart are being yanked in every direction.
It is not your job to run yourself into the ground trying to be everything to everyone. Especially when you could drive 5,000 miles in one weekend and still have people angry that it wasn’t enough—or angry that you tried to divide your time. I know, because I tried. I did it for a decade. And I still lost every single time.
Your family may not care that your kids spend the holidays trapped in a car instead of making memories. They may not care that you end up exhausted, depleted, and resentful. They care that you show up for them. But how often have they truly shown up for you this year? It’s easy to stay home, complain, and get your way over and over again. They don’t feel the weight of how torn you are, how broken and stretched thin you feel, how deeply tired you are in every possible way.
Stop playing a game you cannot win. It is impossible. Do not bend over backward and betray yourself this year. Do. Not.
You belong wherever you choose to be.
If that means staying home in bed with takeout and Netflix—so be it.
If that means volunteering at your local soup kitchen—so be it.
If that means going to one parent’s house, or your partner’s parents’ house—so be it.
If it means you’re done driving for once and offer an open invitation for others to come to you—so be it.
If you want to start a brand-new tradition that breaks every rule—so be it.
If you decide to draw straws, choose one place, or alternate holidays moving forward—so be it.
I don’t care if your grandparents have done the same thing for 50 years and expect you there. They need to acknowledge that you’re juggling four, six, or ten different invitations—and already wishing you could clone yourself. It’s hard enough without the added guilt.
Our reality is the result of decisions made generations before us, and we will no longer accept punishment for them.
People will be upset—but they’ll be upset no matter what you do. So step out of the rat race. If you only have the emotional capacity to care for one person, give yourself permission to let that person be you.
You will never belong inside the box of someone else’s endless demands. You belong to you—before you belong to anyone else.
So be it. And cheers to that.
P.S. Dear extended family: the appropriate response when someone can’t be in a dozen places at once is, “We’ll miss you, but we understand. Let’s get together another day.” Anything less—or more—is emotional abuse, and we do not deserve it.
