The holidays are meant for joy and connection, yet they often bring their fair share of tension — especially when politics or social issues enter the conversation.
I grew up believing that the family gathering table, particularly around the holidays, was a sacred space. It was never just about sustenance. The family gathering was about being in community with the people whom you share an unshakable bond — those who would always protect the best interests of others at that table.
At least, that was what I was taught.
In recent years, however, I have seen another side of what it means to be family: the reality that sometimes, instead of fostering connection, it reveals the bad actors in our lives — even among those we once held dearest. It can illuminate the boundaries that must be built or the bridges that must be burned to protect our emotional safety and well-being.
I found out much of my family voted for Trump. Here’s how I responded.
I have come to realize that being related by blood doesn’t necessarily mean that those gathered will protect you. Finding family isn’t always about unity, or forcing yourself to remain in a place that causes you harm. Sometimes, it’s about clarity, and the difficult choices that come with it.
This fall, after a conversation that spanned more than 1,000 texts in various family group chats, my husband and I made the difficult decision to hold a hard and fast boundary with much of my immediate family, whose stated values and votes made it clear to us that we could not feel comfortable around them.
Earlier this year, we faced a similar decision with my father-in-law when it became clear that Donald Trump was running for president again and that he would be supporting him once more. Additionally, there have been co-workers, even people we considered friends, where bridges had to be burned when their beliefs became a threat to my humanity.
We all have three choices as we approach our various gathering tables: break bread, build a boundary, or burn a bridge. These choices aren’t easy, but they are essential. With my family, the decision to build boundaries or burn bridges, instead of continuing to break bread, came after years of painstaking effort to converse, actively listen, reframe issues, and try to align on values.
These were decisions we did not make lightly or hastily, but sometimes the best course of action is, in fact, to ban the bad actors. I’ve always believed in the power of better arguments over avoiding them. Engaging in respectful, thoughtful discussions helps us understand opposing viewpoints and strengthens our relationships. The Better Arguments Project advocates for this approach by encouraging meaningful dialogue.
But, as you head into your holiday gatherings, I want you to remember this simple truth: You do not have to be nice. You do not have to betray yourself or your boundaries for the comfort of others. You do not have to be a peacemaker in a world engulfed in flames of division. The opposite of “nice” is not “mean”; it is not even “kind” as many purport. Instead, I think of the antithesis of nice as nerve. Having the nerve to build a boundary or even burn a bridge when necessary. Having the nerve to say, “This is where I draw the line,” and to honor your own emotional safety and values, even when others don’t. Nerve is about standing firm in your beliefs and protecting your well-being, even when it’s uncomfortable.
Showing up with a strategy for which option to choose — and when — is a powerful way to navigate the complexities of holiday gatherings.
Breaking Bread
Breaking bread is one of the most intimate actions we can take in a relationship. Sitting at a table to share a meal is about so much more than satisfying one’s appetite. It’s an opportunity to connect, share and build relationships. It’s a space where life’s biggest decisions are made. It’s where handshake deals are struck, life plans are forged, and meaningful conversations shape the course of relationships and futures.
When you choose to break bread, it’s about staying open to meaningful conversations, even when there are differences. One way to approach these moments is with a “Yes, and” mindset. This doesn’t mean you agree with everything being said — it means you acknowledge someone’s perspective and build on it with curiosity and compassion.
How to avoid all-out political war at your Thanksgiving table
For example, if someone says, “I just think people need to work harder,” you might respond: “I hear you — hard work is really important, and I think we can all agree that everyone deserves a fair chance. Sometimes, though, the systems around us make it harder for people to access the resources they need to succeed. If we want fairness, we need to address those barriers together.”
Breaking bread is about using thoughtful framing to keep the conversation open. By focusing on shared values, asking questions, and staying curious, we can turn what could be tense moments into opportunities to foster connection.
Building a Boundary
Sometimes, when a conversation or relationship begins to feel unsafe or harmful, it’s time to build a boundary. A boundary is a line you draw to protect yourself emotionally, mentally, or physically. Boundaries aren’t about controlling others — they’re about respecting yourself and maintaining your peace.
At the holiday table, boundaries might look like:
- Redirecting the conversation to a neutral topic.
- Politely but firmly stating, “I’d rather not discuss this right now.”
- Excusing yourself from the table or gathering if things escalate.
For instance, if a family member starts making hurtful or inflammatory comments, you might say: “I appreciate your perspective, but I’d prefer to focus on something else tonight so we can all enjoy this time together.”









