It starts when you’re a kid. You get that landscape-oriented, poor quality paper with the dotted line in the middle of two solid turquoise lines, and you print what you’re thankful for. You know what you’re supposed to put and everybody has just about the same list. Then you get a Pilgrim or a turkey sticker on it. It’s never graded because it’s treated like a prayer. But it’s just kids spewing forth what they’ve been told to appreciate. A kid whose father will get drunk and beat his mom for lumpy mashed potatoes on Thursday will still have MOM AND DAD printed on that list.

What if we all just let out what we hate about things this Thanksgiving?

I hate that my husband checked out. I hate that things are so unfair at work. I hate that the legal system is too half-assed to give me the confidence I want as I go through my equitable distribution process. I hate that my teenager is difficult. I hate that people whom I thought were true friends are gone.

We would see what’s left.

I see that some people are appreciating the real me. Unexpected things are happening during the day that are fun. I’m noticing the support I’m getting from new places. I’m enjoying my teen’s wit. I appreciate my teen’s honesty. Things are so up in the air that anything is possible—how freeing is that??? Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mi… (just testing to see if you’re really reading this).

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