Someone In This Online Group Asked, “What’s Your ‘That’s Why I Don’t Go Home For The Holidays’ Story?” And 30 Folks Delivered

My parents are super religious and only want me to come home if I stop "choosing" to be gay, so I spend the holidays with my girlfriend's family instead.

Not my family, but my wife's side of the family. I refuse to attend any of their holiday get-togethers. She's from a small town in Western Missouri named Boonville and I lived in the Saint Louis area most of my life. I guess me being a Saint Louis city slicker was just too much for her family. As my wife was introducing me to her extended family I hear someone say "look at him all dressed up nice and fancy, I bet you're one of those city folk who voted for that n word Obama." I just looked at my wife like "please get me out of this hillbilly hell..." I've never gone back. Yeeeeeehaaawwww!

The last time I saw my extended family - aunt, cousins, etc. - for the holidays was during college. They told me I was going to burn in hell for dating a Jew, and the men were screaming the N-word at the TV while watching football.

I went to hang out with my baby cousins, who were in middle and high school, and one of them told me that she learned in their school's sex ed that white people can only get AIDS if they have sex with people of other races.

Once my grandfather passed away I cut contact with all my extended family.

Being verbally abused while I was digging a grave for my dog on Thanksgiving morning was the last straw I'm pretty sure.

Both parents have psychological issues. I spent my childhood taking care of the family. Now that I'm an adult and moved away it's time to take care for myself.

I was kicked out at 15, and so refuse to go back

My parents would routinely give me "gifts" like chocolate or some random thing I don't need like a picture frame. Then they'd go "oh you're too fat to eat it, you don't want that chocolate right?" Then they'd regift my "gift" to their friend's kids. My sister who was in middle school at the time got an iPad and a year later, a MacBook.

Yea, I'd rather not go home to a place that constantly belittles me. I make sure I get my sister a good present but beyond that I'm gone.

My wife's family is all deceased. The only one left alive on my side is my mother. Whenever we see her, she decides it's time to meddle like hell in our marriage. Last Christmas, after she left, we went to a marriage counselor because things got so bad. Counselor said we are both more than fine and to limit contact with nightmare mother/mother-in-law. We no longer see/hear from her anymore.

Cos I want to enjoy the holidays, not spend the entire time listening to the passive aggressivness of my extended family.

I realised the comments of my extended family resulted in the eating disorder I had in high school.

Despite knowing I was sick due to being hospitalised, when I started eating a healthy amount again they would pick on me and tell me ‘it will all catch up to my figure one day’.

My grandmother, who never liked me much to begin with because I didn't play hockey, decided to tell my wife, to her face, that she should pass away.

If I ever look in that old b**ch's direction again it will be to spit on her.

My husband's family is just far better at making reliable plans than my family so they usually win out. I can't travel all the way across the country to try and see my sister and brother when they refuse to nail down plans more than a day or two in advance. "Oh you're coming into town. Cool, text us when you get here and we'll try and meet up" the. When I arrive they forgot they had some other obligation half the time. F**ker, you're almost 50 years old. Buy a F**king calendar.

Last trip home found out my mother had been indoctrinated into an islamic based sect (read cult) who's all knowledgeable and benevolent leader advised (forbid) her not to associate with her agnostic child and grandchild. So yahh anyway lots of free time and excess cash this December which is nice.

My family is a bucket of crabs. I couldn't get away on my own and had to get outside help. My siblings tried getting out and I watched them get pulled down into the black hole of Suck, over and over. As far as I can tell, even the ones living on their own are still hauled back into the bucket on a regular basis.

I can engage with them from a distance; if I get too close, they will try to re-infect me with their stupid, petty, needy, passive-aggressive squalor.

My parents are not bad people, just incompetent at a lot of important life skills. They are mediocre as parents (obvious favoritism, inconsistent rule enforcement), bad with money, and irresponsible in lots of small ways that left me with all sorts of weird baggage.

My aunt tried to exorcise me at a wedding.

Not the - go on a treadmill fat a** kind of exercise

The- I think she has a demon inside of her let's try and get the demon out with fire and prayer kind.

My parents are divorced, as a kid I was lugged back and forth between the two. If I spent Thanksgiving at one parent's home then I had to spend Christmas at the other. As an adult I don't like to pick sides, so I chose neither and had come to blame the long distance, exams, and now that I'm out of university, I have a full time job as my scape goat. I love both of them, but I would rather spend my time alone than worry about hurting one or the other's feelings.

Super religious parents, brother is a once pastor, now atheist in a poly marriage. Not worth the drama.

My dad is a conservative armchair anthropologist so he will study me with notebook in hand like Margaret Mead observing the Samoans. I've learned never to watch Rachel Maddow in his house, otherwise he'll break out the 8mm and provide annoying 'and now we find the liberal in its natural habitat' voice-over narration.

Because the first thing my dear relatives have to say is either do I have gifts for them or why did I put on so much weight. Can't I eat my pudding in peace?!?

I don't really have a home to go back to. My dad passed away when I was eleven, my mom when I was fourteen. I was living on my own before I'd even turned sixteen.

There's my grandparents who took me in for a year until I got my own place, but they're both 85+ and have countless other grandchildren and great-grandchildren, so it sometimes feels like I'm just another grain of sand in the desert.