Time Travel & Turkey: Your Nervous System on the Holidays
Whether your holidays are filled with laughter, tension, or both — your nervous system will have opinions.
Ah, the holidays—when our nervous systems can time travel back to childhood in an instant. You know the feeling: one familiar comment and suddenly you're 12 again, except now you're the adult in the room.
This month, we're exploring how to stay grounded in your adult nervous system when family gatherings invite you back to old patterns—and how to prep your body for the messy magic ahead.
And if your family feels like a soft place to land—beautiful. Your nervous system still benefits from a little extra care amid the lights, noise, and chaos of the season.
Why Family Gatherings Hit Different
There's something uniquely activating about being around the people who knew us before we learned how to regulate our own nervous systems. Our bodies remember—the dinner table dynamics, who got attention, what topics were safe, and which ones sent everyone into their corners.
Your nervous system might be thinking:
"Time to be the peacekeeper again" (gas pedal engaged)
"I need to disappear until this is over" (emergency brake activated)
"Everyone needs to behave exactly how I want them to" (spoiler: they won't)
The good news? You're not that kid anymore. You have tools now.
Holiday Prep—For Your Nervous System
Before you arrive:
Check your fuel tank. Are you running on empty already? Rest matters more than perfect pies.
Plan your escape routes. Know where the quiet bathroom is, have a reason to step outside, identify your "I need air" buddy. Pro tip: helping with the dishes is a legitimate escape route.
Pack your toolkit. Headphones, a grounding essential oil, or music that feels like you.
Set realistic expectations:
Your family will be exactly who they've always been (this is weirdly liberating)
You can only control your own nervous system
Someone will probably say that thing they always say.
Staying Embodied When Things Get Spicy
When you feel yourself getting pulled into old patterns:
Notice your body first, story second:
Are your shoulders creeping toward your ears?
Is your breathing getting shallow, your jaw tight?
Do your hands feel tense?
🆘 Nervous System SOS
Keep these in your back pocket for when things get spicy:
The 5-4-3-2-1 grounding: 5 things you see, 4 you can touch, 3 you hear, 2 you smell, 1 you taste
Bathroom break breathing: Excuse yourself and take 5 slow breaths (the bathroom is your friend)
Feet on floor: Feel your feet in your shoes, your shoes on the ground. You're here, now, in your adult body.
Remember: You can love your family AND need boundaries. You can be grateful AND feel overwhelmed. Both things can be true.
Setting boundaries isn’t about shutting family out - it’s about staying connected without losing yourself.
The Long Game
The goal isn’t to avoid being triggered — it’s to notice and respond from your adult self.
Sometimes that looks like setting a boundary.
Sometimes it looks like excusing yourself.
Sometimes it looks like breathing through your aunt's commentary about your life choices while mentally planning your exit strategy.
All of these responses are valid forms of staying grounded.
When You Get Hijacked Anyway
Because it will happen. You'll find yourself snapping at your sister or going numb during dessert, and that's... human.
Gentle reminders for your inner critic:
Your 8-year-old patterns are trying to protect you the only way they know how
You can repair moments that don't go well
Tomorrow is a new day to try again
Quick recovery moves:
Step outside for a minute
Find the family pet (animals are excellent co-regulators)
Text your most understanding friend for a quick dose of grounding or warmth
Consider:
What family pattern do I find myself falling back into most easily?
What does staying grounded in my adult nervous system actually feel like in my body?
How can I be both present with family AND take care of my own needs?
You survived childhood with these people — and now you get to choose how you show up this holiday.
Feel your feet beneath you. Take a breath. You’ve got this.
Warmly,
Lillian
