A Gentle Guide to a More Meaningful Thanksgiving Week

If there’s one thing I’ve learned — from nonstop Beverly Hills schedules to the slow, snowy mornings here in Park City — it’s that life does not slow down on its own. You have to choose it. You have to claim a little corner of stillness and say, this is mine.

This Thanksgiving was the first time in my entire life that I actually did that.

I didn’t host.
I didn’t cook.
I didn’t obsess over the tablescape or the timing or the “perfect” family moment.

We catered the food. Stayed in our pajamas. Took all the pressure off.
And honestly? It was one of the best holidays I’ve ever had.

It’s hard to unlearn the childhood version of the holidays — the performance, the expectations, the feeling that everything needs to be perfect for it to count. It’s hard to break that internal script that says, host beautifully, keep everyone happy, get the photo, make it magical.

But this year, I let it all go.

We went on a long, slow walk with the dogs.
We played in the snow like kids with our kids.
The twins watched the parade for the very first time — and seeing it through their eyes made the whole day feel brand new. There was no pressure, no spectacle, no drama. Just joy in its simplest form.

And it made me realize: sometimes the healthiest thing you can do is choose the easy option. Cater the meal. Say no to chaos. Protect the peace you’re working so hard to build. Give yourself grace, especially if you’re still unlearning what the holidays “should” look like.

Here are a few things that helped me slow down — little reminders you can borrow anytime:

1.Take the pressure off.
Truly. Let it be easy. Order the meal. Wear pajamas. You don’t get a prize for suffering.

2. Let go of the perfect-photo mentality.
Some of the best moments I had weren’t photographed. Thank God.

3. Play in the snow.
Or in the leaves. Or on the floor. Playfulness is a portal back to yourself.

4. Be where your feet are.
Not five steps ahead. Not on a group text. Here. Now.

5. Sleep as much as your body wants.
It’s winter. Hibernate a little.

6. Create tiny rituals.
Morning tea, lighting a candle, sitting on the floor with your kids — small things anchor you.

7. Give something.
A toy, a coat, a few minutes of kindness. Generosity shifts your whole nervous system.

8. Tend to one small corner of your world.
A drawer. A countertop. One tiny reset can feel like a breath.

9. Be gentle with yourself.
Especially if you’re learning how to live without chaos. It’s hard when you don’t have family drama to absorb or react to — sometimes peace feels unfamiliar. But peace is the point.

This Thanksgiving wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t curated. It wasn’t performative.
It was soft, simple, and full of little joys — and it healed something in me I didn’t even know needed healing.

If you need someone to tell you this, let it be me:

Slow down. Let it be easy. You deserve a holiday that feels like peace.