In many ways, social distancing was like a dark burden had been lifted from my life. Now that expectations have shifted back to the way they were before, I’m left feeling … angry.
I like celebrating Thanksgiving at home. I like spending three days in the kitchen, cooking and baking my way to the grand finale of basting a turkey in glorious amounts of butter. It’s exhausting, but worth it.
Yet I also feel guilty.
I spent a few days debating with myself over whether I should try to concoct an excuse, or just flatly say no.
I don’t want to spend my holiday nibbling on bland artificial food while listening to so-and-so ramble about her fake fingernails. I don’t belong, and most of them act like I don’t exist.
I want homemade pumpkin pie and fresh rolls hot from the oven. I want music and laughter. I want to enjoy myself and have fun.
I shouldn’t feel like I’m doing something wrong.