Dear L.O.L.P.,

My parents are planning a 10-day European vacation for all of their children and grandchildren. This is a lovely gesture, however the way they are going about it feels … icky. The language they have used regarding this trip includes words like “mandatory” and “we are paying, so there will be no complaining.” I feel a visceral rejection of these authoritarian sentiments, even though I know that underneath their tough exterior is a longing for connection as they navigate this uncertain chapter of aging.

In addition to the vibes being off, I have concerns about my mental health. The past few times we have all been together, I have left feeling deeply depressed. There’s a lot I could say about this, but mainly it is rooted in not having the relationship I wish I had with my parents, and leaving with an overwhelming feeling that I’m too sensitive and emotional (which I normally see as my gifts).

Even though this is supposedly mandatory, I do feel agency to decline the “invitation” if that feels like the best choice for my well being. Despite all of my concerns, I’d really like to be there to spend time with my nibblings and witness their first excursion out of the country. Despite having no real evidence to support this belief, I also have hope that it could be a nice adventure.

We are several months out from this event, so there’s time to consider and prepare before officially deciding whether to go. I’m not expecting my family to change, but I’d love to hear from you: What changes can I make to protect my heart and mind if I decide to go?

Sincerely, Mommy Issues

Dear Mommy Issues:

With what I imagine has been a lifetime of decoding subtexts and loaded offers like this one, it’s no wonder that what sounds on the surface like a generous invitation feels like an exhausting dilemma.

I hear your excitement to connect with the family members with whom there is ease, a desire to honor your parents’ stated intention to connect, and the need to care for your mental health, especially since past gatherings have left you feeling drained and resentful.

It’s also okay to feel discomfort between their wish for closeness and the controlling way it’s being expressed. This gift seems wrapped in layers of guilt, tied with strings attached.

I want to celebrate, M.I., your awareness of your body’s “visceral rejection.” These sensations are your body’s way of signaling what you need to feel safe and well around family – trust it! I have no doubt your body has more to say on the matter if you slow down enough to listen. Imagine different scenarios and notice how your body responds. Place your hands wherever you feel relief, warmth, tension or pain, and invite that part to share more. See what wisdom may be here for you.

Of course, there’s no way to be certain of making the “right” decision; rather, there are choices that will serve different needs. I trust your body will signal which needs are most urgent now, and your mind can help with strategies to meet those needs. Whatever you decide, give yourself time to sit with that possibility before sharing your answer with your family.

If you decide to go:

1. Set Gentle Boundaries: Get clear about the non-negotiables for your well-being. You may want to plan windows of solo time each day – whether for outings, reading, journaling, or something else that resets you. Give yourself permission for “emotional exits,” whether through a somatic exercise or simply stepping away to ground yourself. Prepare some mental strategies for those moments when you feel “too sensitive and emotional.” If you set these expectations for solo time before you go, your family may resist less once you’re there.
2. Focus on Your Nibblings: Since spending time with them seems like a big draw, think of it as your main purpose on this trip. Make memories with them, be present in their excitement, and let them be the balm that soothes any family tension.
3. Hold Your Hope with an Open Hand: It’s natural to hope this might be the moment your family has the breakthrough you’ve longed for. Just let that hope be so and flexible, rather than an expectation. This trip might have moments of warmth and connection; it may also bring old patterns. The breakthroughs may end up being more internal than external.

If you decide not to go:

1. Ground Yourself in Embodied Self-Compassion: Allow yourself to feel the full range of emotions that may arise. If “should” stories start to creep in, come back to your body and remember that you are choosing to self-parent and care for the parts of yourself that need gentleness.
2. Have a Prepared Response for Conversations with Family: Family members may question your decision in ways that don’t feel gentle, so prepare a loving but firm explanation that aligns with your truth. For instance: “I know this trip means a lot to everyone, and it’s a truly generous offer. But after careful consideration, I feel it’s best for me to sit this one out for my mental health. I’ll miss you all and hope you have an amazing adventure together.” Staying brief but warm can reinforce that your choice isn’t up for negotiation, without withdrawing your care. If anyone continues to press, you can add, “This was a difficult decision, and I appreciate your understanding.”

3. Plan Some Restorative Time for Yourself: Use the time you would have spent on the trip for something rejuvenating. Consider a solo trip somewhere peaceful, focusing on a creative or self-care project, or spending extra time with friends who uplift you. This way, the time can still be meaningful, even if in a different way.

4. Offer to Support from Afar: If it feels right, let your family know you’d love to share in the excitement from home. This could mean requesting updates, photos, or even a video call. Only offer support if your body feels in agreement.

Whatever your decision, remember that self-care is community care, even if others can’t see it at the moment. I hope you find moments of joy that remind you of your gifts and strengths. Your sensitivity is a gift to yourself, your family, and the world. Keep honoring it as part of your family’s legacy.

Warmly, L.O.L.P.

To read more letters for the Lady of La Playa and other writings by Vanessa VerLee, subscribe to VV’s substack at: www.substack.com/@vanesaverlee