There is one thing I lack more than anything that tends to cause me problems: patience.

I’ve learned through the years, like many other women before me, to fake it (because that’s what women are supposed to do in a patriarchal society, lest they be labeled as difficult or worse). When I can’t do that any longer, I tend to remove myself from the situation, either physically (so that I don’t open up a can of whoop-ass) or mentally.

With cats I have patience, especially if they’re very young or are ill. They can’t help it. Besides, kitten zoomies are hilarious, and an ill cat eating all they’re supposed to eat, or just interacting with others, warms the heart.

With people … I have a lot less patience. Allowances can be made for what humans have no control over, such as ethnicity, sexual preference, or disabilities. But for people who choose to be horrible? Not gonna happen. A short girl with a short temper is the one you really hope isn’t armed around such people.

I can’t think of a family (including mine) that doesn’t have some folks you’d rather not be around, but you do it anyway for holidays because they’re family. Sometimes that’s fine, but sometimes it’s just asking for trouble that might lead to law enforcement being involved.

How’s that for a holiday greeting card? Family mug shots!

With Thanksgiving coming up, a lot of us are deciding what to do for the holiday: be with the family you were born into, be with the family you chose, or just go it alone. Because Thanksgiving falls in the middle of the week, I’ve rarely been able to go home for it since I’m usually working (when I was on the news side, I often worked on the holiday; now I work the Wednesday before and Friday after, so don’t really have time to drive home for such a short visit). Most of the time I end up eating alone or with friends here; this year I’m house/cat-sitting till Thanksgiving, so I’m not sure yet what I’m going to do. Since my brother Mitch died, though, I feel even less pull to go home for any holiday (or one thing, the brother remaining is the one I don’t speak to for many reasons I won’t go into here).

I’m not alone in this. The pandemic helped a lot in assuaging the guilt some felt about skipping holidays with family. The New York Times in 2021 interviewed Lexi Ivarsson, a Boise, Idaho, content creator, who decided to stay where she was and celebrate the holidays with her immediate family and her best friend’s family rather than drive 10 hours with their four kids to her parents’ house.

“Our thoughts on religion and politics and the way we should treat each other and ethics is completely different,” Ivarsson told The Times. “Sitting down at a table together is hard because of that.”

Their Thanksgiving experiment at home was a success. “We had such a good time, and there was zero drama to it and zero obligation. I think the pandemic shifted something that made us realize if we don’t want to spend time with family, we don’t have to.”

There are a lot of reasons not to make the trek home for holiday get-togethers: work, lack of financial cushion (for example, if like me you have allergies or other medical conditions that preclude the possibility of staying in a house with a smoker, there are hotel costs to cover in addition to gas and incidentals), physical limitations, etc., but there’s one that tends to get the short shrift because so many of us were raised to just shake off anything that made us uncomfortable: Mental health.

Our own mental health is important, and I’m glad that more people are becoming aware of that. Holidays don’t have to be a minefield of trauma. I’m not talking about simple political disagreement (though it’s harder and harder to separate politics from people nowadays); the legacy of physical and emotional abuse, for example, lingers long after, and sitting at a table with your abuser while being expected to make nice is a bridge too far for some. Choosing not to be at that table can be hard but necessary, especially if there are other dynamics at play, such as added work or personal stress.

Besides, it’s not like most people don’t have a phone; a call on holidays with family is fine if that’s what you can handle.

I’m sure that right about now there are mutters of “safe spaces for liberal whiners.” Really? Prioritizing mental health has been a long time coming, regardless of political affiliation, or non-affiliation in my case (do I really have to explain why I don’t belong to any party?). If spending holidays away from family by blood deprives people spoiling for a fight (because that’s what makes them happy) from getting their wish, that’s OK.

That’s more than OK; that’s awesome. A little less meaningless fighting is a good thing.

In our family, there’s one person who’s always spoiling for a fight and ready to give his uninformed opinion. One year, someone made the mistake of uttering the name Obama, which set him off on a rant about Barack Hussein (the middle name always has to be included in these rants) Obama wanting to take all his guns (dude, you didn’t own any of them; they were your wife’s guns), etc. Among others, Mitch left to take a walk outside, and when he returned about a half-hour later, that person was still ranting, even though there was really no one else listening anymore.

What part of that sounds inviting, like something sane people would actually want to be part of?

Holidays in many cases are meant for reflection on our values, not for knock-down drag-outs that only part of the family enjoys. Who says we have to take part, especially if mean-spiritedness isn’t part of our personal value system?

While I miss cousins, nieces, a nephew and an aunt and uncle back home, I don’t feel the need to be there physically for holidays, which have been irrevocably changed through multiple deaths over the years. In years past, we spent Thanksgiving usually with my paternal grandmother and our cousins, or with my maternal grandparents. For Christmas, we’d spend Christmas Eve with my paternal grandmother and Christmas Day with my maternal grandparents. My grandparents are all gone now, and it’s been a long time since we’ve had a get-together with all the cousins. I don’t think my immediate family and I have all gotten together for a holiday at least since Mama’s death in 2019, and then the pandemic, but it hasn’t stopped us from calling and texting.

That’s enough sometimes. And it’s a lot less stress on my still-healing body to not have to make such a long drive. Believe me, you miss that range of motion when it’s gone.

My patience has been sorely tested over the years by some family members and others (and right now by an ex-family member in the wake of Mitch’s death). With family, it’s a little easier to feign patience simply because of the shared history.

But then there are the others. Trolls. Unmitigated jerks. People who think they’re the only ones in existence. Those who look down their noses at anyone who isn’t part of their tribe. Those who delight in causing misery for other people.

My patience with them is exhausted. In most cases I simply won’t respond, because their abuse deserves no response as long as it’s just aimed toward me. But target my friends, my family (particularly my nieces, and that includes attacks by other family members) or anyone who had no choice in their fate and treatment, and you’ll find a fiery defense of them.

My patience is a work in progress, just like me. I just wish people would stop testing it so much.