Written by Morgan Karcher
11/20/2025
The holidays can bring up complicated feelings, especially for queer people navigating family of origin dynamics. One of the biggest misconceptions about boundaries is that they are about controlling others. Boundaries begin with you.
A boundary is not, “You can’t talk to me like that.”
It is, “If you speak to me that way, I will… disengage, walk away, or name how I feel.”
You can communicate a boundary clearly (“I don’t appreciate your tone; when you speak to me like that, I feel belittled.”), But ultimately, it is your responsibility to uphold it. Boundaries protect your emotional safety. They are not meant to punish others but to care for yourself.
Sometimes boundaries do not need to be spoken. If a relationship does not feel emotionally safe, your behavior can set the boundary. You might limit contact, change the subject, or use a “gray rock” approach by responding neutrally and minimally. Not all family dynamics can tolerate direct conversations, and that is okay. Protecting your emotional energy and well-being is the goal.
Family connection exists on a spectrum. For some people, no contact is the healthiest and safest option, especially when relationships are consistently harmful. For others, low or civil contact may feel more realistic or aligned with their goals.
“Civil estrangement” means maintaining polite, surface-level interactions without emotional investment. You might keep conversations short, stay neutral, or limit what personal information you share, even the positive things. This can help preserve your energy and prevent retraumatization.
Every person’s threshold is different. Exploring this with a therapist can help clarify what kind of contact, if any, feels healthiest. Remember that you have autonomy. You get to decide how, when, and if you engage with family.
An exit plan is a proactive strategy for emotional safety, outlining how to care for yourself when things become overwhelming.
Working with a therapist can help identify what your exits look like. For some, it might mean taking a brief break in the bathroom to regulate. For others, it is having a safe person, such as a cousin, partner, or friend, who can help redirect a triggering conversation. If a family member says something that evokes a strong emotion, your “exit plan” might be to shift your attention toward someone you feel safe with.
Your exit plan might also involve someone from your chosen family, someone you can text or call for support during challenging moments. For some, it is a literal exit, such as setting a boundary like, “I’ll stay for dinner but will head home by 7:30 to feed my dog.”
You do not have to endure discomfort to prove your love or strength. Having a plan means prioritizing your nervous system, your peace, and your boundaries.
Chosen family has deep roots in queer history. For generations, LGBTQIA+ people have created networks of love, care, and belonging outside of their families of origin, especially when those families could not or would not accept them.
During the holidays, chosen family often becomes the space where queer people feel seen, celebrated, and safe. These are the people who show up, who witness your full self, and who remind you that family is not defined by blood but by mutual respect and love.
If family of origin gatherings bring more harm than comfort, spending the holidays with chosen family or creating new traditions can be a powerful act of self-preservation and healing.
Even when family interactions go as well as they possibly could, when no one says anything hurtful and everyone is civil, the experience can still be emotionally draining. For many queer people, family visits stir up complicated emotions tied to history, identity, and belonging.
Having an aftercare plan helps you regulate and reconnect once the gathering is over. Aftercare might include:
Taking time alone to decompress and check in with your body.
Journaling or processing with a trusted friend, partner, or therapist.
Grounding through comfort routines like a walk, a warm shower, or watching something soothing.
Reconnecting with your chosen family for affirmation and emotional safety.
Engaging in activities that restore a sense of autonomy, such as spending time in nature, creating art, or cooking a meal for yourself.
Aftercare is not indulgent; it is necessary. Even positive family interactions can activate old relational patterns or nervous system responses. Giving yourself space to recover is a way of honoring the parts of you that have worked hard to stay grounded.
There is a saying that captures a painful but freeing truth: “Stop going to the hardware store for milk.”
This takes time to process. Often, we find ourselves returning to family members, consciously or unconsciously, hoping that this time they will show up differently. We may crave support, comfort, or love from someone who has not offered it before, or only does so inconsistently.
When we do this, we are going to the hardware store for milk, looking for something in a place that does not have it. It is not that we are asking for too much; we are simply asking the wrong person to meet a need they cannot or will not fulfill.
Recognizing this pattern is not about blame or resentment. It is about reality testing and grief. It means beginning to see our family members as they are, not as we wish they would be. It also means acknowledging the pain of unmet needs and the disappointment that comes from hoping for emotional nourishment in a place that remains emotionally barren.
This is often where grief work begins. There is grief in letting go of the versions of our family members we needed them to be, but were not. There is grief in realizing that some relationships may never provide the warmth, understanding, or repair we hoped for. And yet, this acceptance can create space for something new, allowing us to seek connection, love, and belonging in places where it can truly flourish.
Processing this with a therapist can help make sense of those dynamics and allow you to find compassion for yourself and, at times, for those who could not meet your needs. Healing does not always mean reconciliation; sometimes it means no longer waiting for someone else to change before you allow yourself to heal.
Working with a queer, trauma-focused therapist can provide a safe and affirming space to unpack complex family dynamics. Therapy can help you explore how attachment patterns, early relational wounds, and cultural or familial expectations impact your current relationships and how to navigate the holidays without abandoning yourself.
For queer clients, this work can be so important. A therapist who understands the intersection of trauma, identity, and belonging can help you set boundaries rooted in self-compassion rather than guilt and support you in reconnecting with your agency and sense of worth.