“I Stopped Enjoying Family Gatherings Because I Never Know What Gifts to Buy”

Family gatherings used to be my favorite time of the year. The laughter, the shared meals, and the joy of being together were things I looked forward to. But as I grew older, something changed. The excitement was replaced by anxiety, and the joy turned into stress. The reason? I never knew what gifts to buy for everyone.

It all started a few years ago during Thanksgiving. I had just started my first job and wanted to make a good impression by giving thoughtful gifts to my family members. I spent weeks trying to figure out what each person would like. I asked subtle questions, tried to remember past conversations, and even stalked their social media profiles for clues. Despite all my efforts, I still ended up with a collection of generic gifts that I wasn’t confident about.

When Thanksgiving Day arrived, I was a bundle of nerves. As we gathered around the living room to exchange gifts, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. My cousin Sarah was the first to open her gift. I had bought her a set of scented candles, thinking it was a safe choice. She smiled politely but didn’t say much. Next was my uncle Bob, who received a leather wallet. He thanked me but quickly moved on to the next gift.

The worst moment came when my mom opened her present. I had spent hours choosing a silk scarf that I thought she would love. But as she unwrapped it, I could see the disappointment in her eyes. She tried to hide it with a forced smile, but it was too late. The damage was done.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I replayed the scene over and over in my mind, wondering where I had gone wrong. The next day, I decided to ask my mom directly if she liked the scarf. She hesitated for a moment before admitting that it wasn’t really her style. My heart sank.

From that point on, family gatherings became a source of dread rather than joy. Every holiday season, the pressure to find the perfect gift loomed over me like a dark cloud. I tried different strategies—making lists, setting budgets, even enlisting the help of friends—but nothing seemed to work.

One Christmas, I decided to take a different approach. Instead of buying individual gifts, I opted for a group experience—a family trip to a nearby ski resort. I thought it would be a great way to create lasting memories together. But even that backfired. My dad had a bad knee and couldn’t participate in most activities, while my sister complained about the cold weather.

The final straw came last Easter. I had spent months planning and saving for personalized gifts for each family member. I was sure this time would be different. But as soon as the gifts were opened, the familiar sense of disappointment returned. My brother didn’t like the book I had chosen for him, my aunt found the kitchen gadget impractical, and my mom—once again—wasn’t thrilled with her gift.

I realized then that no matter how hard I tried, I could never get it right. The pressure to please everyone was taking a toll on my mental health and ruining what should have been happy occasions. So, I made a difficult decision: I stopped attending family gatherings altogether.

It’s been two years since I last joined my family for a holiday celebration. While I miss the laughter and the shared meals, the relief of not having to worry about gifts is immense. I’ve tried explaining my feelings to my family, but they don’t seem to understand. They think I’m being selfish or overly dramatic.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m making too much of a big deal out of something that should be simple and joyful. But for now, this is the only way I know how to cope.