PASS THE GRAVY, NOT THE GUILT: WHY BOUNDARIES BELONG ON THE THANKSGIVING TABLE

Thanksgiving is a strange but real way to experience time travel: you walk into your Aunt Betty’s house as a 46-year-old professional with a mortgage and a first colonoscopy under your belt[1], and before you’ve finished your first deviled egg you’re inexplicably thirteen again, defending your life choices while someone casually remarks, “You’ve always been too sensitive.”

 

Thanksgiving can be a time for gratitude, connection, togetherness, and marshmallow-topped vegetables, but it is also for some an annual emotional obstacle course featuring unasked-for comments about your waistline, surprise interrogations about your dating status, and the sense that you’ve been shoved back into your original family role -- like it or not.  Family is a psychological ecosystem that has long relied on you behaving in a particular way to keep it stable.

 

But you aren’t beholden to hurt yourself to keep that old system running.

Maybe it’s ok if the system is forced to change.

 

WHAT IF BOUNDARIES AREN’T WALLS, THEY’RE TOMATO CAGES?

It might feel as though boundaries are just for keeping people out, but let’s look at it a different way: what if boundaries aren’t walls, but those wire things we put around plants as they grow?  They just give our poor fledgling tomatoes structure to grow healthily without overtaking everything else in the garden (or being impinged upon by aggressive zucchini); they keep plants from getting so tangled up we can’t tell where one begins and the other ends.  Everyone in the garden benefits: each plant gets the sun, soil, and space it needs to thrive.

 

It's the same for people: boundaries help create the right conditions for positive connection to occur, and for relationships to work without resentment, emotional burnout, and self-erasure stewing in the background.  Family systems research backs this up, too: clearer interpersonal boundaries are associated with higher relationship satisfaction and lower resentment and emotional burnout (Skowron, et al., 2008; Čepukienė & Shrira, 2024).

 

My point is that being able to say “no” sometimes can be uncomfortable (or legitimately frightening), but setting an honest boundary now beats grappling with lingering fury and hurt for years.  It’s essentially you saying, I care enough about us to be real with you about what works for me.

 

BOUNDARIES ARE EASY – ASSUMING YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT ANYONE

I could hold a firm boundary with your manipulative sister all day long! Her guilt trips would bounce right off me! But my own family? That's different. They installed my buttons; they know the factory settings. The people who can hurt us most are the ones who know us best, and that's exactly why boundaries feel impossible where we need them most.

 

A holiday dinner, then, can feel like an involuntary game of Red Rover: everyone takes turns running at your boundaries to see what it takes to break through. It might be guilt-tripping you for not coming home enough, commenting on your body, cornering you into a political conversation you don’t want to have, or your Uncle Larry kissing you full on the mouth. 

In case it’s the actual practice of this that’s hard for you, let’s do a little roleplay.  I’ll be you, and I’ll give you a few examples for every prompt, each one with that tomato cage energy. 

 

MOM: “Your brother manages to visit twice a month.  But I suppose you’re too busy for your own family.”

YOU: “I am busy, Mom.  But I love you and I’m happy to be here with you now.  Hand me that dishtowel?”

YOU: “That’s great that Cedric gets to do that.  My schedule’s been a lot lately.  I’m doing my best.”

 

AUNT BETTY: “Are you sure you want seconds?  The stress from college is really showing on your face.  And everywhere else!”

YOU: “Aunt Betty, I know you mean well, but please don’t comment on my body.  I just want to enjoy being here with you.”

YOU: “Ouch, Aunt Betty!  That stung.  I’m not looking for feedback on my food choices.  But I would love the recipe for these scalloped potatoes.”

 

COUSIN RODOLFO: “I can’t believe you voted for [political figure].  I thought you were smarter than that.”

YOU: “I care about our relationship too much to turn Thanksgiving into a debate.  Let’s focus on what we can agree on – like Abuela’s amazing apple pie!”

YOU: “We both want a better country, Uncle… we just see different paths.  How’s your renovation going?”

 

UNCLE LARRY: (puckers up)

YOU: (pre-emptively puts up hand for high five) “Not the kissing type, Uncle Larry!”

YOU: (dodging) “I’m getting over a cold – better keep our distance!”

 

THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT

Buuuut… when you start introducing boundaries into a family that’s never really had any, you’ll meet resistance.  “I don’t want to help out in the kitchen tonight while my husband watches the game” somehow becomes “I’m cancelling Christmas, divorcing Gary[2], and pawning Great-Aunt Lydia’s silver teaspoon collection!”  It’s not a sign you’re doing something wrong, it’s just the system adjusting.  Families get comfortable with everyone playing their assigned roles, and when you stop playing the one assigned to you, everyone else has to change their script, too.  And nobody likes that (Bowen, 1978). 

 

For most people, this adjustment is uncomfortable but survivable. You’ll get awkward silences, sulking, eye-rolls, and little stinging remarks that leave you irritated but not fundamentally unsafe. It might sound like:

 

“But we never see you anymore…”

“You’ve changed.”

“Is this what your therapist is telling you?”

“You’re so selfish lately.”

 

Notice how your boundaries immediately become moral failings? Boundary-aware responses might sound like:

 

“I just want to be in the right headspace when we connect.”

“I am changing, yeah -- and I understand that might feel weird for you.”

“Actually, this is me talking – I’m just getting better at it.”

“Taking care of myself allows me to show up better for the people I love.”

 

The goal here is to be steady, not defensive: you’re acknowledging the relationship without caving. But even when you nail it, you may not feel empowered afterward.  You may feel shaky, guilty, or strangely sad. That doesn’t mean the boundary is wrong, just that it’s new.

 

WHEN BOUNDARIES DON’T JUST STING – THEY THREATEN

For others, though, boundary-setting isn’t just uncomfortable -- it’s genuinely scary. When you grew up in a family where love felt conditional, a simple “I can’t do that tonight” might be met with withdrawal, guilt, or accusations that you are abandoning the family altogether. In these moments, the fear isn’t just awkwardness; it’s a genuine terror of losing connection.  The message is clear: get back in your old role or lose us forever. And this is the moment many people cave -- not because they’re weak, but because the stakes feel existential.

 

For people who grew up in tough families where boundaries trigger real retaliation, it’s not just about keeping the peace -- it’s about protecting your sanity and well-being. In these families, it takes bravery just to tolerate disapproval without immediately capitulating. It means remembering that having someone angry at you doesn’t make you the terrible person they say you are.

 

And sometimes, the healthiest boundary is simply not showing up.  Not as punishment or revenge. It’s just self-preservation. Skipping Thanksgiving dinner isn’t the same as abandoning your family. It might just mean you’re choosing to interrupt a pattern that’s long harmed you. That choice can be deeply thoughtful and meaningful, even if nobody but you sees it that way.

 

YOU DON’T NEED A CLOSING ARGUMENT

Good boundaries might come with context, but they don’t need a full legal defense.  There’s a critical difference between helping someone understand where you’re coming from and trying to convince them your boundary deserves to exist. When you say “I’m exhausted and need downtime” you’ve already explained yourself. Nobody else gets to vote on whether that reason is “good enough.”

 

A healthy template is “I care about you; this is my limit.  We can talk about how you feel about it, but the boundary itself isn’t up for negotiation.”

 

DON’T AIM FOR REVOLUTION, JUST REVISION

Thanksgiving will always carry echoes of who you used to be. Those old family dynamics don’t magically vanish just because you’ve found a great partner, finished school, quit drinking, or started therapy. But a single boundary, kindly stated, is a radical act in many families. You don’t have to dismantle decades of dysfunction over one turkey dinner. You only need to notice where you usually shrink yourself -- and choose, even once, not to.  It’s a reminder that you’re no longer living in the past, you’re just visiting it.

 

And that, in my view, is something genuinely worth being thankful for.

 

FOR FURTHER READING on setting and holding boundaries, read “Set Boundaries, Find Peace” (Tawwab, 2021) and “The Dance of Anger" (Lerner, 1985).

 

[1] At least, if they’re doing it right.

[2] Let’s face it, Gary had it coming.