8 Christmas traditions Boomers insist on that make their adult children dread December

Every December, my inbox fills with messages from readers asking how to navigate family gatherings without losing their minds. The common thread? Parents who insist things must be done exactly as they've always been done, regardless of how their adult children actually feel about it.

Here's what I've learned from my own complicated relationship with my parents and from years of observing family dynamics: tradition can be beautiful, but it can also become a cage. When I was working 70-hour weeks in finance, I used to dread the holidays because they felt like just another obligation where I couldn't quite measure up to expectations.

The thing is, many Boomers grew up in an era where family traditions were sacred and questioning them was practically heresy. But times have changed. Adult children have their own lives, their own families, and their own ideas about what makes the holidays meaningful.

If December fills you with more anxiety than joy because of family expectations, you're not alone. Let's talk about the traditions that need a serious rethink.

1) The marathon meal that requires hours of elaborate preparation

You know the one. The twelve-course feast that takes three days to shop for and two days to prepare, where everything must be made from scratch using recipes that are "family heirlooms."

My mother used to insist on a spread that would feed thirty people even though only eight of us were coming. When I suggested simplifying or having people bring dishes to share, you'd think I'd suggested canceling Christmas entirely.

The problem isn't the meal itself. It's the expectation that someone, usually the women in the family, will sacrifice their entire holiday weekend to create this production. And heaven forbid you suggest ordering something or using a shortcut.

What if the holidays were actually about spending time together instead of spending time in the kitchen?

2) Mandatory matching outfits for the family photo

Picture this: you're in your late thirties, and your mother is still texting you color swatches for what everyone needs to wear in the annual Christmas card photo.

I've seen grown adults argue about whether burgundy counts as red, all because someone's mother decreed that this year's photo theme is "classic red and green." The stress of coordinating outfits across multiple households, ensuring everyone looks "presentable," and then forcing smiles for the camera kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?

When I started dating Marcus five years ago, he was baffled by this tradition. His family just took candid photos whenever they felt like it. Imagine that.

The best family photos are the ones where people actually look happy, not the staged productions where everyone's wearing matching sweaters and secretly seething.

3) Opening presents one excruciating gift at a time

We all sit in a circle. Someone is designated as the gift distributor. Each person must open their gift while everyone watches, comment appropriately, and pass the spotlight to the next person.

This process takes approximately four hours.

Look, I get that the intention is to appreciate each gift. But when you're 45 years old, sitting there waiting your turn while your father opens his third pair of socks feels less like a tradition and more like a hostage situation.

Some families have thirty presents to get through. By hour three, everyone's secretly checking their phones and wondering if it's too early to start drinking.

There are other ways to exchange gifts that don't involve sacrificing an entire day to theatrical unwrapping.

4) The expectation to attend every single holiday gathering

Christmas Eve at your parents' house. Christmas morning at your in-laws. Christmas afternoon back at your parents. December 26th at your aunt's. That weird December 28th gathering that someone started five years ago and now it's apparently mandatory.

When I was still in finance, I remember trying to calculate the logistics of attending all the required events like I was solving a complex equation. The stress of it all contributed to the burnout that eventually made me rethink my entire life.

Adult children often have their own families now, maybe they live hours away, maybe they have in-laws with equally demanding expectations, or maybe they just want one quiet day at home in their pajamas.

The guilt trips about "but we only see you once a year" ignore the reality that constantly rushing between obligations isn't quality time with anyone.

5) Passive-aggressive commentary disguised as concern

"You look tired, are you eating enough?"

"Still at that little apartment, huh?"

"Your sister managed to make it home for a whole week."

These aren't expressions of love, even though they're often framed that way. They're subtle (or not so subtle) criticisms dressed up as holiday cheer.

My mother still introduces me as "my daughter who worked in finance" rather than "my daughter the writer," even though I left that career eight years ago. It's her way of expressing disappointment without saying it directly.

I learned through therapy that my parents express love through concern about financial security. But that doesn't mean I have to accept backhanded comments about my choices.

Real connection requires honest communication, not passive-aggressive needling over mashed potatoes.

6) The "this is how we've always done it" defense

Any suggestion to modify a tradition is met with shock, hurt feelings, and the ultimate shutdown: "But this is how we've always done it."

As if longevity automatically equals value.

When I suggested we could do a vegan option alongside the traditional meal, you'd think I'd suggested we sacrifice the Christmas tree. Never mind that I'd been vegan for years at that point. Tradition trumped consideration.

Here's something I learned from helping my parents downsize their home: they had boxes of decorations they'd been storing for decades that they didn't even like. They kept them because "that's what we do."

Tradition should enhance our lives, not imprison them. If something isn't working anymore, we're allowed to change it.

7) Zero acknowledgment that adult children might have their own traditions

When Marcus and I started spending Christmas morning at home, just the two of us, doing a long trail run before the family gatherings, my parents acted like we'd personally betrayed them.

The assumption was that their traditions would automatically become our traditions. Our desire to create something of our own wasn't seen as normal adult development but as rejection.

Adult children aren't abandoning their families by wanting to establish their own rituals. They're building their lives. That's literally what healthy development looks like.

I had to set clear boundaries about what I was and wasn't willing to participate in. It wasn't easy, and it involved some difficult conversations about expectations versus reality.

8) Keeping up appearances at all costs

Everything must look perfect for the neighbors, for the relatives, for the Christmas card. The house must be decorated just so. Everyone must be on their best behavior. Problems get swept under the rug because we "don't want to ruin Christmas."

This performative perfection is exhausting.

I spent years watching my family put on a show of holiday cheer while actual tensions simmered below the surface. We couldn't have honest conversations because that might "make things awkward." So instead, we had fake pleasant ones while everyone felt progressively more isolated.

When I finally started being honest about my own struggles with burnout and anxiety, I broke a generational silence in my family. It was uncomfortable. But it was also necessary.

Real intimacy requires vulnerability, not performance.

Final thoughts

If any of these traditions sound familiar, take a breath. You're not a bad person for dreading December.

The holidays have become so loaded with expectations that we've forgotten what they're supposed to be about: connection, rest, and maybe a little celebration. Not perfection, not performance, not doing things exactly as they've always been done.

I learned something important through my own journey of setting boundaries with my parents: respecting their traditions doesn't mean I have to participate in all of them. And suggesting changes doesn't mean I don't love them.

Change is uncomfortable, especially for people who find comfort in routine. But growth requires it.

Maybe this year, you start a conversation about what traditions actually bring joy versus which ones create stress. Maybe you suggest one small change. Maybe you simply decide which gatherings you'll attend and which you'll politely decline.

You get to build a life that feels authentic to you, even during the holidays. Especially during the holidays.

And if that feels impossible right now, remember that setting boundaries is a skill that takes practice. Start small. Be consistent. And give yourself permission to prioritize your wellbeing alongside family connection.

The goal isn't to abandon tradition entirely. It's to create space for traditions that actually nurture us rather than drain us.