48. Thanksgiving
In my household, Thanksgiving has always been a sport — the pinnacle of family holidays… at least for me and my dad. For as long as I can remember, it’s been our holiday. We’d make an entire week of it, starting with scouring the latest issues of Food & Wine and Southern Living to scout out recipes. We’d create formatted grocery lists in excel and I even vlog our grocery haul Jake Paul style in the depth of my Team 10 fandom — all that to say, the pre-prep was an event of its own.
Then came the real magic: food preparation. It started two days early with the turkey, and on Wednesday, we’d spend sunrise to sunset making pies, corn casserole, and our family traditions like cheesy carrots and cheesy spaghetti (aka lazy girl mac and cheese coined by my great-grandmother in a rush to give the kids something they’d eat). Bacon-wrapped green beans, dressing, and cranberry sauce filled the kitchen with the best smells and we’d listen to Amy Grant Christmas to warm up for the holiday kick off on Friday. I vividly remember friends asking me to hang out, but all I wanted was to be in the kitchen with my dad, crafting the perfect pies. By the time we sat down with family in Thanksgiving day, I felt so accomplished and couldn’t wait to indulge. I would always be the first in line at Thanksgiving lunch, the one to ask for leftovers for dinner that night, and having chocolate pie for breakfast the following days (until we were fresh out).
In middle school, Thanksgiving was the highlight of my year. But in high school, things began to change. I developed an eating disorder as a way to grasp control and seek validation, and it cast a shadow over the holidays. Instead of eagerly prepping for our grocery runs, I’d wince as sugary “unhealthy” items hit the cart. Instead of searching for the best-looking recipes in the magazines, I’d obsess over finding the “healthiest” ones. Thanksgiving became a tug-of-war between my longing for joy and the disordered thoughts that filled me with fear.
I know the holidays can bring conflicting emotions for many — some might be at a high, while others may be trudging through the valleys in this stage of life. For me, my relationship with food is ever-evolving, but I’m proud to say it’s the healthiest it’s been in years. However, other parts of life still feel very uncertain, but that is life, that is growing up! With growing up, the joys tied to childhood innocence seem so distant — but they don’t have to stay that way. This Thanksgiving, my wish is to let go of life’s complexities, to immerse myself in the preparation, the day itself, and to reconnect with the pure joy little Mary Allison once felt.
I feel proud and blessed to say I’m genuinely excited for Thanksgiving this year. It’s no longer just about the food—it’s about the connection. Sitting around the table is about so much more than eating; it’s about family, connection, joy, and love. My wish for Thanksgiving 2024 is to rediscover the joys of youth while staying present in the now, allowing gratitude to guide me without letting life’s realities control me.
