Let me paint you the picture.
It was a week before Thanksgiving, and I was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a color-coded list that looked like something out of a NASA mission plan. You know those Pinterest-perfect spreads with golden roasted everything and dessert tables that look like Martha Stewart herself swooped in to sprinkle magic dust? Yeah, I had convinced myself that’s what our vegan Thanksgiving needed to look like.
Because here’s the thing: it wasn’t just about cooking. It felt like I was carrying the entire weight of proving that a vegan holiday could be just as warm, abundant, and delicious as the one I grew up with. I wanted every detail to be incredible: the stuffing, the pies, the table decor. I wanted the skeptics at the table (hello, dear Uncle) to leave with zero ammo for the “but don’t you miss turkey?” debate.
But if I’m honest? The pressure was crushing me.
The Mom Juggle Is Real
It wasn’t just Thanksgiving, either. That week had the usual chaos of laundry piles that could rival Mount Everest, work emails buzzing nonstop, soccer practice drop-offs, figuring out what to make for dinner on Tuesday night when I hadn’t even thought past breakfast. Add in the looming holiday, and suddenly my brain was screaming: This has to be perfect, or you’re failing.
Maybe you know that feeling. You set the bar so high that even an Olympic pole vaulter couldn’t clear it, and then you wonder why you’re stressed and snappy.
Cue My Tiny, Unexpected Coach
So there I was, hunched over my to-do list, when my 4-year-old wandered in. She was carrying a crayon in one hand and a stuffed animal in the other, clearly on her way to some big adventure only she understood.
She looked at me, sighed in the most dramatic way, and said:
“Mom, you don’t have to do this all by yourself. I can help. We can make it together.”
And just like that, she handed me the best Thanksgiving pep talk I’ve ever received.
I laughed at first because what could a preschooler possibly do to help with a holiday meal? But then it hit me. She wasn’t just offering to stir a bowl or mash some potatoes. She was reminding me of something I had completely forgotten in my quest for perfection: I wasn’t alone.
Out of the Mouths of Babes
Kids have this way of cutting straight to the truth. While I was overcomplicating everything, she boiled it down to the core: togetherness. Isn’t that what Thanksgiving is supposed to be about anyway?
Her words landed with such weight because I realized — she wanted to be part of it. She wanted to stir, taste, decorate, and claim a little piece of this vegan holiday for herself. And not because she cared about impressing anyone or making the table look Instagram-worthy. She just wanted to help, to belong, to be in it with me.
And honestly? That’s the heart of this whole vegan journey. It’s not about going it alone or proving something to the world. It’s about building a life (and a table) where everyone has a seat and everyone’s part of the story.
Why That Pep Talk Changed Everything
I went from thinking, I have to single-handedly craft the most impressive vegan Thanksgiving ever to we get to create this together. Huge difference.
It took the weight off my shoulders and reminded me that strength doesn’t always mean powering through solo. Sometimes strength is letting others in, even if their help looks more like spilling flour across the counter than executing a five-star recipe.
And here’s the bigger shift: her words showed me that even little kids understand the vegan movement in their own way. They get it. They’re watching us live our values, and they want to participate. My daughter wasn’t worried about turkey debates or proving veganism to anyone. She just knew it mattered, and she wanted to be part of it.
The Thanksgiving Myth of Perfection
Here’s the trap so many of us fall into: thinking Thanksgiving has to be flawless. The perfect menu, the perfect table, the perfect attitude even when you’re crumbling inside.
But let’s be honest. Perfection isn’t memorable. What’s memorable are the burned rolls you laughed about for years. The lopsided pumpkin pie that everyone swore tasted better than any bakery’s. The time the kids decorated the table with construction paper turkeys that looked more like aliens but made everyone smile.
When we let go of perfection, we open up space for connection.
What Staying Strong Really Looks Like
Strength isn’t powering through exhaustion to prove yourself. It’s knowing when to pause, breathe, and invite others in. Strength is messy, imperfect, and shared.
My daughter reminded me that emotional support doesn’t always come from your partner, your best friend, or your therapist (though all of those are amazing). Sometimes it comes from a 4-year-old with a juice box who reminds you to chill out and just let people help.
Practical Takeaways for Your Thanksgiving (and Beyond)
If you’re nodding your head right now because you’ve felt the same holiday pressure, here are a few things you can try this year:
- Assign Simple Tasks
Let kids stir, sprinkle spices, or set the table with their version of “decor.” It doesn’t have to be pretty — it has to be theirs. - Outsource the Pressure
You don’t have to cook everything. Ask guests to bring a side, or buy the vegan pie if baking isn’t your jam. - Create a Pep Talk Jar
Write down (or collect from your kids) little affirmations or reminders to pull out when you’re overwhelmed. My daughter’s “we can do it together” is at the top of mine now. - Reframe the Goal
Instead of aiming for “perfect food,” aim for “memorable moments.” What story do you want to be telling next year? - Invite Kids Into the Movement
Explain why you’re making certain dishes vegan, even in simple terms. You’d be surprised how much kids take pride in being part of something meaningful.
The Wrap-Up: Gratitude for the Pep Talk
This Thanksgiving, I’m choosing to remember my daughter’s words. Because she was right — I don’t have to do it alone.
And neither do you.
So if you’re stressing over the menu or feeling like you’re carrying the whole holiday on your back, pause. Look around. Let someone — big or small — step in and remind you that togetherness is the real recipe for strength.
And maybe, just maybe, your best pep talk will come from the smallest voice at the table.
Happy Thanksgiving, friends. May your day be full of laughter, imperfect pies, and the kind of support that shows up when you least expect it.
Kristyn Medeiros 