My first time hosting Thanksgiving was supposed to be a big « we finally made it » moment. We had a new house, homemade food, and both sides of the family under one roof. Instead, it turned into the day every ugly thing in my in-laws’ dynamic came to the surface, starting with a comment about my cooking and spiraling into something none of us saw coming.
I’m 25, and I still can’t wrap my head around what happened that Thanksgiving.
