Read this before Thanksgiving dinner.
A Thanksgiving Worth Savoring
Every year, as Thanksgiving approaches, I find myself preparing not just a menu… but a gathering.
My kitchen turns into the unofficial town square: music on, dishtowels everywhere, and at least three conversations happening at once. Someone is chopping veggies. Someone else is “just checking” something by taste-testing it. And without fail someone asks, “So… what’s for lunch?”
It’s chaotic. It’s imperfect. It’s predictable.
And it’s home.
I truly love hosting. One year we went away and it just wasn’t the same. I love having family, friends, and the occasional last-minute guest. I love cooking together, honoring traditions, and laughing about the things that go wrong — like the year the power went out the night before Thanksgiving, or the year we forgot ice cream for the pies, or the time someone said, “Wait… we need more cornbread?”
But beneath the noise, the chopping, and the shared stories, Thanksgiving invites me into a quieter practice too:
Awareness.
Not the diet-culture “holiday survival” kind. Not the “avoid overeating!” posts taking over the internet.
Instead — what I like to call:
Intuitive awareness.
Before the doorbell rings, before the table is set, before the house fills, I pause and ask myself:
(Do I need drugs? Kidding. Mostly.)
But really:
How am I arriving to this day?
Hungry? Excited? Tired? A little emotional? (Holidays have a way of stirring memories.)
Whatever comes up, know that it belongs.
Because intuitive eating isn’t about control.
It’s about connection.To our bodies. To our needs. To the moment unfolding in front of us.
When we finally sit down to eat, that awareness comes with us.
Maybe we begin with the food that feels nostalgic. Maybe we skip a dish we don’t actually enjoy, even if it’s “tradition.” Maybe we take seconds because the sweet potatoes with mini marshmallows taste like childhood.Maybe we pause because our body says enough. Or maybe we start with dessert first (fully supported!)
None of these choices are right or wrong. They’re simply honest.
And in a holiday centered around gratitude, honesty with ourselves might be one of the truest forms of it.
So this year, I hope your Thanksgiving feels nourishing and not because of what you eat (or don’t eat), but because of how present you feel with yourself and the people you love. May your plate hold foods you genuinely enjoy. May your heart be full. And may the imperfections (the burnt edges, the mismatched dishes, the lukewarm veggies, and the loud laughter) remind you: Perfection isn’t the goal. Presence is.
With love and gratitude,
🧡 Rachel