With Gratitude, Care, and Some Gentle Reminders
Every Thanksgiving in my family, before we eat anything, we go around the table and share what we’re grateful for. It’s a tradition I love, and as we settle into the holiday today, I want to share my deep gratitude for you. Whether you’ve been reading for years or just arrived here recently, thank you for letting my words into your inbox, for your trust, and for the work you’re doing in your own healing.
I also want to gently acknowledge that holidays can be loaded. Thanksgiving is a complicated and painful holiday for many, especially for Indigenous communities who continue to live with the generational impacts of colonization and erasure. Gratitude and grief often walk side by side, and although family gatherings can bring connection, they can also stir up old dynamics, tender memories, or feelings of loneliness. Then there is the ever-present contradictory diet culture messaging that tells us to restrict all year and then “cheat” during the holidays.
If this season feels heavy or mixed, you’re not doing it wrong, you’re human. I think of Thanksgiving as an opportunity to reclaim meaning: to move away from the mythology, to honor truth, and to anchor the day in values that feel aligned- care, connection, reflection, and nourishment in all its forms. For me, gratitude is not a gloss-over. It’s a way of being present with what is real: the good, the hard, and the in-between.
Some gentle reminders to keep close this season:
- Your needs matter. It’s okay to take breaks, set boundaries, or step away from conversations that don’t feel good. Boundaries are allowed.
- Care is cumulative. Small things count- hydration, a short walk, breathing fresh air, texting someone who feels safe, a grounding moment.
- Support is allowed. If you need grounding, company, or a listening ear, reach out. Community care is real care.
- Your body is not a project or a problem. You don’t have to earn or explain your food choices.
- Restriction isn’t safety. Your body’s cues are wise and worthy of trust.
Wherever this holiday meets you- joyful, grieving, overwhelmed, tender, or simply moving through- I’m holding gratitude for you. For your humanity, your complexity, your courage, and the ways you’re reclaiming your relationship with food, your body, your history, and yourself.
