The Year I Finally Stood My Ground

I’ve hosted Christmas for years because my place is “the biggest.” I cook for 12-18 people, spent $700 last year, and get zero help. This year I asked everyone to chip in and someone said, “It’s at your place, so it’s fair you handle the cooking.” So I canceled. No one volunteered. So they decided to host their own “Plan B” Christmas without me, which honestly stung more than the $700 ever did.

I sat in my quiet living room in the suburbs of Chicago, watching the snow drift against the window. For a decade, this house had been the hub of the holiday season for my extended family and friends.

I’d spend weeks planning menus, hunting down the perfect turkey, and polishing silverware that only saw the light of day once a year. My back would ache from standing over the stove, and my bank account would groan, but I did it because I loved the idea of being the “anchor” of the family.

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