Thanksgiving 2020 Will Be More Than Okay
JUST IMAGINE
for a moment, the headlines for this holiday season might look like if we didn’t need to stay home tomorrow. In lieu of “How to Survive a Socially Distanced Thanksgiving,” I imagine they’d read:
How to Survive Thanksgiving With Relatives Who Voted Differently From You
How to Survive Holiday Traffic
How to Survive Your Family’s Expectations
How to Survive a Holiday Family Event Single
How to Survive Your Relatives’ Questions About Your Career
How to Survive a Meal With People Who Don’t Respect Your Food Choices
You catch my drift. Messaging comes from all sides that Thanksgiving is both (a) this idealized Hallmark moment that is more important than other days we spend with loved ones and (b) destined to fall short of expectations.
This morning, I hit my limit with emails that began: “This Thanksgiving is so hard for all of us.” This many months into the pandemic, I’m tired of marketing that sells by leaning on rapport through commiseration.
So, here’s my truth: I love small, immediate family holiday meals. I love my family, too, but I’m not heartbroken.
As always, my perspective is informed by my own defining experiences: I have a different take on the holidays.
I’ve experienced a large Thanksgiving where one family member aired all of their grievances and the rest of the family cried into their mashed potatoes. The year Moses died, Mac and I told our friends and family Thanksgiving wouldn’t exist for us. We went on vacation to think about what came next. At the time, the idea of gratitude seemed oppressive. Still fresh in our grief, we found some peace on that trip.
Since then, we’ve had a mixture of traditional and small Thanksgivings. We’ve had lovely, large, warm, undramatic family holidays; and we’ve had years where it’s just us. And when having a small celebration, we still have an incredible day. We go on a long family walk. We drink mimosas while we cook because we’re not going anywhere. Mac has football games on all day and the girls have no limit on screentime. We still eat turkey--and all the sides, and my FAMOUS homemade pumpkin pie.
We call the people we love and wish them a Happy Thanksgiving, and we have a pretty wonderful day. And we also know that if we want to have a big family meal in July, we can, so honestly—I’m not stressed about it.
The communications lesson herein—because I always try to include one—is this: Share YOUR truth, because it will resonate with YOUR people. I know some of you are sad today (I’ve seen the posts) and I see you and honor your experience, but I’m hoping my perspective will add a little light to your day. You don’t need me to pile on.
I say this all the time: Numerous people do what you do, but only you bring your approach, experiences, perspective, etc.
My readers (Hi!) come to me because they’re interested in sharing more of themselves, in building that rapport with their audience, and conveying their expertise in a warm, conversational way. I know there have to be other pros talking about connecting and selling through shared pain and frustration—and that approach even made sense for some of my clients’ emails this week, so I advised them accordingly. But it’s not required. What’s required is showing up as YOU are.
This, friends, is what that looks like for me.
Happy Thanksgiving!
