Every November, the same quiet question rises back to the surface. Should I go home for the holidays this year? It sounds simple. It is anything but. That single question carries years of history, emotional patterns, and memories that rarely stay politely in the background. It calls up the person you used to be, the person you have worked hard to become, and the complicated space between them.
This year, after a lot of reflection, I made my decision. I am not going home. Not out of anger. Not out of finality. Not to make a statement. The answer came because I want a peaceful holiday that belongs entirely to me. A holiday without negotiation or performance. A day that supports who I am right now.
For me, that means a solo Thanksgiving built around comfort, football, good food, and a nap that will come for me whether I plan for it or not. This choice is mine alone. It is not meant to convince anyone else to stay home. Your life, relationships, and emotional needs are yours. My hope is that this piece helps you find your own answer, not mine.
Because the truth is simple. You deserve a holiday that reflects your emotional reality this year, not last year, not ten years ago, and not the version of yourself your family still remembers.
Why This Question Always Feels Heavy
The reason the “Should I go home?” decision feels so heavy is because it is rarely about the holiday itself. It is about everything that surrounds it. Home is not just a place you can find on a map. It is a place built from patterns, expectations, old conversations, and emotional muscle memory. Even in loving families, stepping back into a childhood home can feel like stepping backward in time.
For many of us, going home means slipping into roles we outgrew long ago. You might find yourself quieter than normal. More careful. More aware of old dynamics. You might feel pressure to soften yourself or blend into a version of life that no longer fits. Even supportive families can unintentionally amplify discomfort during the holidays because nostalgia has a way of overshadowing boundaries.
Holiday seasons magnify our history. They stir up old memories, both warm and complicated. They blend hope with hesitation. They remind us that connection and discomfort sometimes live side by side. This is why the question feels heavy even when nothing dramatic has happened. It is not just about travel. It is about emotional safety.
Your Choice Is Yours Alone
Let me make something clear. My choice to stay home is not a recommendation. It is not a warning about families or an endorsement of solitude. It is simply the choice that honors my needs this season.
Your experience is yours. Your family dynamic is yours. Your boundaries, comfort level, and emotional capacity belong to you alone. Some people reading this will have loving families who welcome them warmly. Some will have families who try but sometimes misstep. Some will have strained relationships. Some will feel safer with chosen family. And some will want a year of peace without external pressure.
There is no one-size-fits-all answer. There is only your answer. The one that brings you stability, not stress. The one that lets you breathe.
What It Might Feel Like When Going Home Is Right
Sometimes, going home is exactly what your heart needs. You might find yourself thinking about familiar traditions with warmth. You might feel curiosity about reconnecting. You might feel strong in your identity and ready to be present with people who love you, even if they are imperfect. Maybe you want to see a sibling or a grandparent. Maybe you miss your hometown smells and sounds. Maybe the idea of reconnecting feels more comforting than intimidating.
If going home brings a sense of ease when you imagine it, that is worth listening to. Emotional clarity often shows up that way. Not as excitement, not as fear, but as a quiet yes.
What It Might Feel Like When Staying Home Is Healthier
Other times, your body gives you a very different message. Thinking about going home may make your chest tighten. You may feel a familiar dread you cannot shake. You may picture yourself shrinking, hiding parts of yourself, or walking on emotional eggshells. You may feel pressure to perform a role you no longer want to play.
If the thought of staying home brings relief, comfort, or peace, even if mixed with a little loneliness, that is still clarity. Sometimes the strongest, safest, and most healing choice is the one that gives you space. There is nothing wrong with choosing distance, even temporarily. Protecting yourself is not abandonment. It is self-respect.
How To Choose What Supports You Best
To know which direction fits your life this year, you need honesty. The kind of honesty that does not care about guilt or family expectations. The kind that speaks quietly, clearly, and without apology.
Ask yourself what you are afraid of. Ask yourself who you are trying to protect. Ask yourself whether the version of yourself that appears when you go home is a version you still want to live in. Ask yourself what you truly want your holiday to feel like.
Picture both options. Pay attention to your body. One scenario will bring tension. One will bring ease. One will feel heavy. One will feel lighter. Your emotional center is usually telling you the truth long before you put words to it.
Choosing The Solo Holiday And Fully Owning It
This year, my emotional clarity pointed me toward a solo Thanksgiving. And honestly, I feel good about it. I will spend the day exactly the way I want to, without reshaping myself for anyone else’s comfort.
My morning will begin the same way it always does on Thanksgiving. I will turn on the Detroit Lions game because some traditions never leave you, especially if you grew up in a Michigan home where Thanksgiving football was basically a sacred ritual. The Lions will come on, I will get my dinner started at my own pace, and the world will feel familiar in a gentle way.
I will watch the game while the kitchen fills with all the Thanksgiving smells I love. I will plate my dinner whenever I feel like it. I will enjoy it without rushing or performing. And then, just like every other year of my life, the turkey will win the fight, and I will fall asleep during the afternoon games. It will be peaceful, warm, and predictable in the best possible way.
There is something deeply comforting about a holiday that does not demand anything from you. I will wear whatever I want. I will play the music I love. I will let the TV fill the room with background noise. I will give myself permission to let the day unfold naturally, without expectations or emotional negotiations.
A solo Thanksgiving will not be loneliness for me. It will be autonomy. It will be familiarity. It will be comfort without compromise.
If You Choose To Go Home, You Can Still Protect Your Peace
If your heart tells you to go home, you can make that choice without losing your boundaries. You can decide how long you stay, when you need breaks, and what emotional distance you require. You can remove yourself from conversations that feel sharp. You can take walks or quiet moments as needed. You can lean on the relationships that feel safe and gently avoid the ones that do not.
Going home does not require sacrificing your emotional well-being. You are allowed to show up with boundaries intact.
If You Choose To Stay Home, The Day Can Still Feel Full
If you stay home, you can still craft a holiday that feels meaningful. You can make a meal that excites you, even if it is small. You can create a soothing environment with candles, soft lighting, or your favorite playlist. You can connect with friends online or by text. You can build new rituals. You can rest without apology.
Your holiday does not have to look traditional to be valid. It only has to feel supportive.
Your Choice Can Evolve With You
One year’s decision does not lock you into anything. Families grow. Relationships change. Healing happens. Or sometimes, clarity strengthens. What feels right this year may feel different next year. You are allowed to revisit the question every season. Your needs deserve to be re-evaluated as often as necessary.
Traditions shift because people shift. You do not owe consistency to anyone but yourself.
The Bottom Line
At the heart of this conversation is one simple question. What brings you peace this year? Not what you wish brought you peace. Not what you feel obligated to endure. What actually supports your emotional well-being today.
Your answer is legitimate. Your reasoning is valid. Whether you choose a full house of relatives, a quiet dinner with chosen family, a peaceful drive, or a solo meal with football humming in the background, your holiday is still your holiday. No one else gets to define it.
You do not need permission. You do not need approval. You only need honesty with yourself and the courage to honor that truth.
Your holiday belongs to you. This year, choose the version that feels like home.
