The Holiday Double Bind
Why holiday gatherings can feel so crazy-making, and how to honor your own reality.
I remember some of my first trips home from college for the holidays. Thanksgiving was always special, marked by our family recounting the lore of a secret Chestnut stuffing recipe. It was usually a debate over how old the recipe was and how much wine is supposed to go into it.
While I had only been gone for a few months, my world had shifted dramatically. I was reading philosophy, getting my major sorted, living with roommates who challenged my worldview, and slowly, tentatively, building a new version of myself.
And then I walked through my grandparents’ door.
Almost instantly, without conscious thought, the person I was becoming was gone.
The new, questioning, expanding version of myself vanished. In his place was a prior self—a younger, more agreeable self from high school.
My voice got a little higher and more rambunctious. I found myself talking about the high-school days, recounting stories and “where are they now?” questions with friends, and as the years went on, I struggled to remember the same old jokes.
I became a carefully curated, two-dimensional version of myself, designed for maximum harmony.
I was performing a role I knew I needed to outgrow. The sensation of enduring this personality whiplash was staggering.
The pain felt like self-betrayal. Each visit home a noticeable measurement between who I was becoming and who I was expected to be.
This is the Holiday Reversion.
And if you’ve felt it, you are not alone. It’s the invisible price of admission many of us pay to keep our seat at the table, especially if your family operates within a high-control dynamic that no longer resonates with you.
This experience is a classic double bind. As I wrote in The Playbook of Control, this is the quintessential “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” scenario that many of us face as the holidays approach.
Applied to the holiday table, the double bind can look like this:
The Authenticity Bind
You are told, “Be yourself! We love you for you,” but when you express an opinion that differs from the family consensus, especially around politics, religion, or lifestyle, you are subversively punished with silence, overtly punished with argument, or the label of being “divisive.”
Self-damned if you’re fake; family-damned if you’re real.
My reversion to a “high school self” was a preemptive surrender to this bind.
Gaslighting: The Engine Behind the Reversion
The double bind is so effective because it is enforced by gaslighting—the systematic erosion of your reality. When your entire body is screaming “I don’t agree with this,” but the room demands a performance of happy belonging, you are taught to betray your internal knowing.
To me, it feels like little stress fractures on the soul.
Hillary L. McBride argues in The Wisdom of Your Body that our mental and bodily well-being are an “indivisible whole.”
The tension headache that arrives with the guests, the stomach that churns during a certain conversation—these are not random symptoms.
They are data. They are truth-tellers.
It is the body’s protection mechanism, the same one that used to give me migraines before every “all-staff meeting” at a high-control organization. But in a system that prioritizes the illusion of harmony over the reality of its members, you are taught to silence that data.
The Holiday Reversion is the act of silencing your own evolution for the comfort of the system.
A Gentle Embodiment Practice
If this story stirs something in your body, that makes sense. It remembers. If it feels safe, let’s embrace a gentle embodiment practice.
Consent is key. If this exercise does not feel safe in your body, you may stop at any time and move on.
Let’s Anchor:
Place one hand over your chest and one over your stomach. Close your eyes if that feels comfortable.
Feel the warmth of your hands. Feel the gentle rise and fall of your current, adult self, breathing right here, right now.
Silently, or in a soft whisper, say this phrase: “I am here now. This version of me is real.”
Say it again. Notice what it feels like in your body to validate the person you are today.
Ask your body: What is one thing you need to feel present and safe right now? It might be a deep breath, a sip of water, or the feeling of your feet on the floor. Trust the first answer you feel.
The Goal is Not to Win; It’s to Stay Present
The path forward is not about preparing for a dramatic confrontation. It is not your job to force your family to see the “new you.” The most important person to care for is yourself.
A possible goal this season: navigate these gatherings without abandoning yourself.
This might look like:
Catching the Reversion: Simply noticing the impulse to change. Perhaps you notice your urge to edit a story. You can say to yourself, “Ah, there it is. The old role. I see it. I can make a different choice.”
Allowing for “Quiet Presence”: You don’t have to perform. It’s okay to be quieter than you used to be. Your calm, observant presence is just as valid as cheerful participation.
Redefining a “Successful” Holiday: Success is not a conflict-free dinner where you played your part perfectly. Success is ending the day knowing you honored the person you are today. Success is staying connected to the wisdom of your body.
You are not too sensitive: You are not “ruining things” by changing. The discomfort you feel is the friction of your own growth, and that growth is something to be honored, not hidden.
Your sensitivity is not a flaw; it is a finely-tuned instrument for detecting inauthenticity. This week, I hope you are able to find a simple way to trust yourself if that felt inaccessible before.
May you find moments to honor the person you are becoming.
May you celebrate your magnificence—because you are fucking magnificent.
And may you remember that your presence, your real, authentic, evolving presence… that is enough.
You, as you are today, is enough.
My goal is to provide language for these complex, felt experiences. If this post resonated with you, I’d be honored if you would engage in one of two ways:
Share in the comments: What part of the “Holiday Reversion” felt most true for you?
Share this post: If this could help someone you know feel less alone this week, please consider sharing it with them.
Thank you for being here.
You dignity matters. Always.
I can definitely relate. This is the reason we now just enjoy quiet holidays in our immediate family. When we're clearly not accepted the rest of the year, why put ourselves through the performance to make others look good for the holidays?
I don’t believe I have ever experienced a better description of what it feels like to step back into spaces I inhabited as a kid. My parents are both gone so the expectation (and invitation) to join those spaces no longer exists, for which I am mostly grateful. The embodiment practice is so helpful - thank you for that!!