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 stared at the booking screen for a long time, my finger hovering over the “select flight” button.

What kind of person abandons thirty-two people on Thanksgiving?

But another voice in my head, quieter but somehow stronger, asked, What kind of person expects one individual to handle thirty-two people’s dinner with no help?

I thought about Ruby, uninvited from a family she’d been part of for eight years because her divorce made her inconvenient. I thought about Hudson dismissing my requests for help like they were unreasonable demands instead of desperate pleas. I thought about Vivien casually mentioning a life-threatening allergy the day before the dinner, as if my ability to completely restructure the menu overnight was a given.

I thought about who I used to be before I became the person who always said yes, who always made it work, who always apologized for not being perfect enough.