For the first time, I allowed myself to think about what I wanted. What did Thanksgiving mean to me? In that moment, it wasn’t about picture-perfect tablescapes or impressing a crowd of acquaintances. It was about finding peace and gratitude within myself, rediscovering the joy of the holiday that had been overshadowed by the demands of others.

I imagined the scene at home once they realized I was gone—the confusion, the scrambling, perhaps even a hint of panic. Part of me felt guilty for leaving them in such a bind, but another part whispered that it was high time for them to understand the value of my efforts. Maybe, just maybe, they’d appreciate me more in my absence.