My mother-in-law told me to get up at 4 a.m. to cook Thanksgiving dinner for her 30 guests. My husband added, “This time, remember to make everything really perfect!” I smiled and replied, “Of course.” At 3 a.m., I took my suitcase to the airport. – usnews 0/2

I slipped out of bed without waking Hudson and padded downstairs to the kitchen. In the early morning darkness, surrounded by the evidence of yesterday’s prep work, I allowed myself to really think about the unthinkable.

What if I left?

Not forever, not dramatically. Just left. Got in my car and drove somewhere else. Let them handle one meal without me.

The idea was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. I’d never, in thirty-one years of life, simply not shown up to something I was expected to do. I’d never let anyone down. I’d never put my own needs before someone else’s convenience.

I made a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table, looking at the guest list that still lay where Vivien had placed it two days ago. Thirty-two names. Thirty-two people who were expecting me to sacrifice my sleep, my health, my sanity to provide them with a perfect meal while they provided nothing in return except criticism if things weren’t exactly right.