As Halloween festivities die down and November’s not-so-cold weather settles onto southern California, I am reminded of a holiday I have truthfully never really cared much about: Thanksgiving. 

However, this year, instead of feeling the usual autumn breeze, I feel a hazy fog of dread. Because this year, I know that for Thanksgiving, I will no longer be sitting at the kids table.

In most households, there is an unspoken tradition where kids sit at a separate table than the adults, and at a certain age, kids are permitted to move to the adult table. Well this year is my coming of age. I am 17 years old and reaching the precipice of adolescence, so I’ve been reflecting on the fact that I might have taken the holiday of Thanksgiving for granted.  

I used to harbor resentment for being stuck at the kid’s table. As the oldest girl in my family, I always thought that since I helped my mom with the salad, folded the napkins for my grandmother, and set both of the tables, I had a right to be with the adults and not have to babysit my younger cousins and sisters. 

The transition to the adult table, therefore, to me felt long justified. I earned that spot. But now, having to actually move is terrifying, considering the metaphorical meaning that ensues.   

The kid’s table was a shelter that I didn’t even realize I had. To put it lightly, it was a refuge from the dread of inquisition.

At the kids’ table, I didn’t have to sit through political discussions from my diametrically opposed family or get grilled on where I’m going to college and what I am going to major in. At the kid’s table, I didn’t have to know who I was or who I was going to become. And, the truth is, I don’t even know that yet. Even so, come Thursday, those are the questions I will face.

Through my self-reflection, I have found that my ambivalence towards moving to the adults table is representative of my journey out into the world. I’m unsure of the unknown, and that is what is so scary about it. 

But also through my journey I have found a new appreciation for Thanksgiving mostly due to my realization of how oddly introspective this holiday is. 

Of course Thanksgiving is a time to get together with family and friends and be thankful for the people around you and the things that you have. 

But I also think it is a time to recognize where you are in life.

To quote Hericlitus, “no man ever steps in the same river twice for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” 

Time moves on but as my personal experiences show, that isn’t a bad thing and that is what I am learning is so important. Each time I step foot into my grandmother’s house for Thanksgiving dinner, I am both a year older and a year wiser. My seat at the head of the kids table is not the same river and I am definitely not the same woman.

So now, I think I’m ready to move on from the kids table. Finding my place at the adults table, and in the world, is something I am still navigating but I find solace in the fact that I have grown as a person to find a coexistence between my youth and the resilience and peace that can come with age. 

I have already passed the days where I’ve dreaded being pushed to the kids table but now I look forward to the many Thanksgivings I will spend at the adults table. 

Whether you are at the kids’ table, at the adults’ table with a plus one, or even eventually sitting at the head of the table, you are moving up in life. It’s okay to leave the kids table.