This post was updated Nov. 30 at 6:54 p.m.
I never thought Thanksgiving would be my favorite holiday.
For years, the November celebration was a dreaded occasion. It was a low point on the fall calendar, impeding the momentum between my enjoyment of Halloween and Christmas. Even though I respected the holiday’s emphasis on gratitude, I recoiled in anticipation of the gluttonous gorging on food. I did not believe Turkey Day offered the same maximalist traditions as other holidays.
But my time as a Bruin has completely changed my perspective about Thanksgiving. I now carry a fresh appreciation and undying adoration for this irreplaceable annual celebration.
I fell in love with the holiday because of the powerful connections I have discovered between Thanksgiving and home.
I’m from Stockton, California – a city I was all too desperate to leave when heading off to college. I never felt especially inspired by or engaged with my hometown. Too often, I felt stifled by its limited arts scene and lack of natural beauty.
Arriving at UCLA as a first-year student was a riveting escape, with Los Angeles having so much more to offer my curious mind than Stockton ever could. But by the time November rolled around in my first quarter, my homesickness was far more intense than I could have ever imagined.
When my dad turned the car onto our street, I saw my home in a way I never had before. My street has never looked as beautiful as it did then, with the trees practically aglow with flame-colored leaves. The cool autumn breeze was welcoming, curling me back in like a hug rather than pushing me away as it once did.
I had overlooked the coziness of home, with the lion portrait above my bed and the scent of my mom’s cinnamon tea in the air. Returning for Thanksgiving helped me realize just how lucky I am to have a cherished home to return to. I needed the time away at UCLA to rediscover my house’s magic as the one physical space from my upbringing where I always felt comfortable being myself.
My nostalgia for being home – the security I innately feel in the house, the safety I experience within its walls – transformed my perception of why Thanksgiving travel is so essential. Not everyone is so lucky to be able to go back to a place where they feel ensconced in a space of comfort and love. I had underestimated just how much the house in Stockton had defined and protected me.
Even with the charm of the autumn leaves and the warmth of the living room, the house’s magic would have been incomplete without my family’s love. We are a close-knit crew to begin with, but acknowledging the joy of being reunited opened my eyes to a more flexible definition of Thanksgiving – it is not only a holiday about expressing gratitude but is also about celebrating those who make you feel most at home.
The best part about celebrating home is that it does not have to be a physical space. One’s family – both biological and chosen – is just as important for having a place to call home.
In middle and high school, I remember feeling disconnected from Thanksgiving activities beyond those in my house. I did not have any close friends with whom to engage in the joys of Friendsgiving celebrations. I did not feel seen or understood by my peers.
My friendships at UCLA are the complete opposite. I feel very lucky to have built life-changing friendships during my time as a Bruin, opening my heart to incredible people whom I love with the same intensity as my blood relatives.
It was just last week I participated in my first Friendsgiving. It was a simple dinner that ended in a night of watching 2010s music videos from Ariana Grande and Katy Perry, but it could not have been more magical to feel wholly myself with friends who have been there for me through each trial and tribulation in college.
Thanksgiving becomes more worthwhile if we remember to celebrate our chosen families – the people who see us, who understand us, who create a feeling of home that transcends the limitations of physical space.
When the world is weighed down by too many troubling issues to count – from the Trump administration’s political attacks on higher education to the United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids infringing upon basic human rights to worsening climate change – the value of feeling at home has never mattered more.
This Thanksgiving, I’m most excited to return to Stockton to watch “Wicked: For Good” in the theater with my sister. As our mutual hype for the movie has built, the “Wicked” franchise’s themes about home and identity feel even more pertinent.
Each and every one of us may view the place we call home differently. But hopefully, each of us can make the effort to appreciate the family we choose for ourselves – the friendships that help us feel at home no matter where we are. No feeling is more priceless than that holistic acceptance.
As Dorothy Gale so cogently observed in “The Wizard of Oz,” there really is “no place like home.”
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