Connecting Without Collapsing: How to Stay Present This Holiday Season With Family Whose Politics Hurt You

Disclaimer: This blog is, first and foremost, a challenge to myself. It grew out of my own wrestling with what it means to love people whose moral fabric can feel so profoundly different from my own. It isn’t an attempt to erase or soften the very real, valid, and often painful emotions that come with political tension—those experiences matter, and they deserve their own space. It doesn’t capture the entirety of my views or opinions on what it might look like to coexist (or not) with people in our lives who hold deeply different views.

Instead, this piece lives in the gray. It’s an exploration of the in-between places: the quiet after the explosion, the nuance that emerges once the most intense emotions have already been felt, named, and honored. This is not a blog about dismissing harm or forcing harmony. It’s a reflection on what remains when the dust settles and we’re left with relationships that don’t fit neatly into “right” or “wrong,” “safe” or “unsafe,” “us” or “them.” If you’re here for clarity, you won’t find it. But if you’re here for complexity, tension, and honesty—I hope you’ll feel at home.

The holidays have a way of turning the volume up on whatever’s already tender. Thanksgiving is next week, and Christmas, Hanukkah, and a dozen other winter gatherings aren’t far behind. For some people, that means sitting across the table from someone whose worldview feels wrong or even unsafe. For others, it means facing an empty seat—one they chose, or one that was chosen for them. No matter whose idea it was, estrangement can feel like freedom and grief tangled together.

And here’s the part most people won’t say out loud: many of us don’t actually want to be estranged from our families. We don’t necessarily want every holiday to feel like a referendum on who’s “right.” But we also don’t want to sacrifice our integrity, identity, or psychological safety just to keep the peace. Others have chosen distance because the cost of staying close was too high, and now they’re left navigating the loneliness that comes with protecting themselves.

This season can hold a lot of contradictory truths at once:

• You can long for connection and still need space.

• You can feel relieved to step away and ache for what could have been.

• You can love people deeply and refuse to contort yourself into someone unrecognizable.

It’s tempting to wish we could go back to the days when we could “just agree to disagree.” But we can’t. And, if we’re honest, that phrase has always been code for: let’s not talk about this because it’s uncomfortable.

Sometimes the people you’re navigating political differences with aren’t “your people” at all. Maybe they’re your partner’s family, new in-laws, or folks you simply don’t have years of shared history to lean on. In those situations, connection can feel both important and awkward: you want to show up with warmth and integrity, but you’re also building trust from scratch. Without the safety of long-term relationship roots, the goal isn’t deep agreement: it’s respectful coexistence. It’s finding small, human entry points: shared humor, curiosity, stories, or values that aren’t political. You don’t owe intimacy, but you can choose intentional presence, especially when these relationships matter to someone you love. 

We don’t need to go backward. We need to go sideways—toward each other, alongside the people and relationships that still matter. This isn’t about pretending politics or values don’t matter, and it’s not about convincing anyone to come around. It’s about a quiet kind of respect that says: I see your story, and I’m willing to let it live next to mine.

Psychologists call the ability to stay connected without losing identity (Bowen, 1978) the differentiation of self. In systems theory, differentiation of self is the skill that lets us stay connected to others without losing ourselves in the process. It becomes especially important when political differences enter the room.

What Differentiation Actually Means

• The ability to hold onto your own beliefs, values, and emotions

• Staying grounded and regulated in the presence of someone who disagrees
  Remaining open and connected without collapsing into people-pleasing or defensiveness

• Choosing thoughtful responses instead of emotional reactivity

What Differentiation Is Not

• It’s not forcing agreement to keep the peace

• It’s not cutting off contact to avoid discomfort

• It’s not convincing someone else to think like you

• It’s not shrinking, smoothing over, or self-abandoning

How Differentiation Helps Us Navigate Political Differences

• It creates room to stay present instead of shutting down

• It makes curiosity possible (“Help me understand what this means to you”)

• It lowers emotional escalation and protects nervous system regulation

• It allows connection rooted in humanity, not ideology

• It keeps relationships intact without requiring sameness

Differentiation lets you say, “I am me. You are you. We don’t have to be the same to stay in this together.”

That kind of sideways movement only works when the relationship has roots worth tending. The kind with trust, care, or shared history to protect. It’s not an invitation to reenter harmful dynamics, minimize harm, or override your own boundaries. Some relationships can’t hold that kind of coexistence. But for the ones that can, a sideways step might be the most honest way forward.

The Microsystem: The Kitchen Table and the Group Chat

This is the ground level. Our families, partners, friends. These are the people we love so much it hurts when they don’t see the world as we do.

Maybe you text your mom after a big court decision and her response stings not because it’s cruel, but because it reveals how far apart your moral maps have drifted. Or maybe you love your college roommate like a sister, but she reposts something that makes your stomach drop.

These moments are rarely about ideology. They’re about attachment, or how we learned what “good,” “safe,” and “true” mean. Research shows that political conflict between close others often activates threat responses tied to identity and belonging (Harell et al., 2020). Sometimes, we feel unsafe not because of disagreement but because connection suddenly feels conditional.

What helps here:

• Replace persuasion with presence. As John Gottman’s work on emotional attunement shows, relationships strengthen when we turn toward bids for connection—even across conflict (Gottman & Silver, 2015).

• Speak from self, not from stance. “I felt scared when I read that” lands differently than “You’re wrong about that.”

• Remember: awareness doesn’t require agreement. It asks that we stay in the room through differences.

Picture this: You’re home for the holidays. Your aunt starts a conversation about “kids these days,” and within two sentences, it’s about gender. Your cousin rolls her eyes. Your heart races. You can feel everyone else decide, silently, to change the subject.

You take a deep breath and ask, “Can you tell me more about what worries you about that?” She pauses. She doesn’t back down, but she explains that her granddaughter just came out as trans, and she doesn’t know how to talk about it without saying the wrong thing. You realize you’re not having a fight. You’re witnessing fear trying to dress itself as conviction.

Moments like this are tender because they touch attachment. Research shows that political conflict in close relationships activates the same neural circuits as social exclusion or threat (Harell et al., 2020). When someone we love sees the world differently, it can feel like they’ve stopped seeing us.

This isn’t “agreeing to disagree.” It’s saying, I’m still here, and I’m still me. It’s asking to be seen while being brave enough to keep your eyes open. 

The Mesosystem: When Worlds Collide

The mesosystem is where our circles overlap: family dinners, book clubs, workplaces, places of worship. These are often spaces where silence feels safer than authenticity. 

A teacher once told me she stopped talking politics with colleagues, even the “positive” conversations, after her principal labeled any discussion “divisive.” Labeling future conversation as automatically divisive creates a context that is inherently unsafe and prevents people from navigating their own difficult conversations with respect.  

This teacher wasn’t trying to convert anyone; she just wanted to exist honestly. Her frustration wasn’t about censorship. It was about loneliness. Psychologist Jennifer Freyd’s research on institutional betrayal (2018) shows how deeply it hurts when systems meant to protect us instead demand invisibility. When your safety requires self-erasure, the cost isn’t just professional. It’s existential. 

Again, these aren’t recipes for engaging in conversation with hate-mongerers or bigots. This approach only works in relationships where both people are willing to show up with some level of respect and curiosity. If the dynamic is harmful, dehumanizing, or consistently unsafe, stepping sideways isn’t the answer. Stepping away is usually the right call. 

What helps here:

• Practice contextual honesty: discernment, not disguise. Some spaces can hold difference with care; others cannot.

• Advocate for cultures of psychological safety, where disagreement isn’t equated with disloyalty.

• Channel your inner Ted Lasso. AFC Richmond doesn’t agree on everything, but they trust each other enough to disagree honestly.

Connection across difference isn’t pretending it’s fine. It’s creating systems that can bear the weight of honesty.

The Exosystem: Media, Workplaces, and the Invisible Rules

Our relational tension often mirrors larger forces—media silos, policy shifts, workplace hierarchies. We think we’re arguing about facts, but we’re really arguing about different realities created by different informational worlds.

Maybe your grandpa’s worldview hardened after he retired and started watching Fox News all day. Maybe your niece’s urgency about climate change comes from growing up during record-breaking summers. You’re not living in the same information climate.

Maybe your friend’s worldview hardened after their local newspaper closed and the only news left was algorithmic outrage. Maybe your coworker’s mistrust stems from watching systems fail people like them.

Sociologist Arlie Hochschild (2016) calls this the “empathy wall”: a barrier of experience that makes another person’s logic feel foreign. Add social media’s design to amplify moral outrage (Brady et al., 2021), and the exosystem becomes an empathy minefield.

What helps here:

• Step outside algorithms. Read across ideological lines, especially outlets that explain rather than inflame (AllSides, Ground News, Tangle).

• Ask, What story does this person think they’re living in? instead of Why can’t they see mine?

• Remember: awareness of systems doesn’t excuse harm, but it contextualizes behavior, and that’s the soil where empathy grows.

The Macrosystem: Culture, Myth, and Meaning

At this level, difference stops being about “issues” and starts being about identity. Political beliefs are embedded in cultural myths, in our sense of what it means to be good, strong, free, faithful, or safe.

Two people can read the same headline and feel entirely different moral emotions—one outrage, the other relief. According to Moral Foundations Theory (Haidt & Graham, 2007), this happens because we each organize our moral lives around different sacred values: care, fairness, loyalty, authority, or sanctity.

Think of the cultural difference between The West Wing and Succession. One frames power as stewardship; the other, as inevitability. Both contain truth.
When we view others through this lens, disagreement stops feeling like contamination and starts looking like contrast, a coexistence of schema, not a contest of rightness.

What helps here:

• Ask: What value feels threatened for this person? (It’s almost always a sacred one.)

• Name your own sacred values, too. Transparency builds respect even when views don’t align.

• Remember: empathy here is not surrender. It’s the sovereignty to see their ecosystem without having to live in it.

The Chronosystem: Time, Change, and Choice

Time doesn’t guarantee change, but it allows for awareness. Sometimes, the difference remains. Sometimes, it softens. Sometimes, you choose connection with full awareness of difference, not pretending it’s gone, but accepting that it coexists with care.

A client once told me, “My dad didn’t change his views. But now, when I visit, we sit outside, listen to baseball, and talk about our gardens. That’s the bridge we can both stand on.” That isn’t avoidance. That’s relational adaptation. They’ve built a way to coexist without collapsing. 

What helps here:

• Let relationships breathe when they need to. Space can be a form of grace.

• Revisit conversations later. Emotions metabolize differently over time.

• Hold curiosity loosely, but don’t extinguish it. Change often starts as quiet noticing.

Ways to Connect Across Political Differences (Without Feeling Shallow or “Small Talk-y”)

Crossing political lines doesn’t require pretending differences don’t exist. It just means anchoring in the parts of being human that aren’t up for debate. Here are conversation topics and activities that create genuine connection without slipping into superficiality.

Conversation Topics That Invite Depth (Without Politics)

1. Personal Stories and Memories

• “What’s a moment from this year that changed you in some small way?”

• “What’s the best thing you learned about yourself lately?”

• “What was your favorite tradition growing up and do you still keep it?”

• “Who showed up for you this year in a way you didn’t expect?”

Why it works: Storytelling builds empathy without requiring agreement.

2. Values and Meaning (Not Policy or Positions)

• “What’s something you want more of in your life right now?”
  “What’s a value you try to live by when things get stressful?”

• “What’s giving you hope lately?”

• “What’s something you’ve been rethinking or relearning?”

Why it works: Values are shared terrain even when beliefs diverge.

3. Life Transitions and Growth

• “What’s been the most surprising part of this season of your life?”

• “Anything big you’re preparing for or dreaming about next year?”

• “Is there a habit, practice, or routine that’s actually been helping you stay grounded?”

Why it works: Most people love talking about becoming, not defending.

4. Creativity and Curiosity

• “Read anything lately that stuck with you?”
  “What’s a hobby or interest you picked up accidentally?”

• “Is there something you’re learning just for the fun of it?”

Why it works: Creativity bypasses ideological walls.

5. Food, Rituals, and Culture

• “What dish do you always look forward to this time of year?”

• “Do you have any weird family rituals that make you laugh?”

• “What’s a comfort food that never fails you?”

Why it works: Food is universal connective tissue.

Activities That Build Connection (Without Forcing Conversation)

1. Shared Tasks

• Cooking a dish together

• Setting the table or arranging flowers

• Decorating or prepping for a gathering

• Walking the dog or taking a short outdoor loop

Why it works: Parallel activity lowers emotional intensity and builds connection through doing, not debating.

2. Creative + Hands-On Play

• Working on a puzzle

• Doing a small craft (ornaments, garlands, simple doodles)

• Making family recipe cards

• Re-organizing old photos or digital albums

Why it works: Play creates a soft, collaborative energy.

3. Nostalgia-Based Experiences

• Looking through old holiday photos

• Sharing favorite childhood songs

• Watching classic movies or family videos

• Telling “remember when…” stories

Why it works: Nostalgia activates shared meaning over shared opinions.

4. Movement and Sensory Reset

• Taking a walk after dinner

• Stepping outside for fresh air during tense moments

• Sitting by a fire or candlelight

• Doing a simple grounding practice together (“What do you like most about this moment right now?”)

Why it works: Regulation is relational; calm bodies create calmer conversations.

Ways of Engaging That Strengthen Connection

1. Ask Open Questions

Questions rooted in curiosity instead of challenge:

• “Tell me more about what that’s been like for you.”

• “What part of that feels most important to you?”

2. Turn Toward Emotion, Not Opinion

• “It sounds like this really matters to you.”

• “I can hear how much that impacted you.”

3. Name the Connection Out Loud

• “I really like talking with you, even when we see things differently.”

• “It means a lot that we can stay in this.”

4. Share from Humanity, Not Topically

• “I’ve been tired lately too.”

• “I know what it’s like to worry about the future.”

5. Allow Space

Sometimes stepping away is connection:

• Tag-teaming a task

• Listening to music together

• Sitting quietly with a cup of tea

The Takeaway: Coexisting Laterally in Empathy and Awareness

The goal isn’t to return to civility-as-silence. It’s to live awake with empathy and boundaries, difference and connection, truth and tenderness.

Bridging divides doesn’t mean agreeing, converting, or ignoring. It means building relational ecosystems that can hold dissonance without fracture. It’s about seeing one another clearly, including our histories, our schemas, and our needs, and choosing to stay in mutual awareness.

That isn’t neutrality. It’s love with its eyes open.

This isn’t a call to reunite with people who have been cruel or unsafe. It’s about the relationships you want to keep, the ones where disagreement hurts precisely because the bond matters. When there’s still care on both sides, sideways movement can offer a way to stay connected without sacrificing your boundaries or beliefs.

When we learn to exist laterally—aware, connected, and grounded in difference—we stop mistaking disagreement for disconnection. And we start practicing something quieter, braver, and far more radical than “agree to disagree.”

We stay.
We stay aware.
And we stay human, together.

If this stirred something in you…

If reading this blog brought up familiar knots in your stomach or the quiet ache of old attachment wounds, you’re not alone. Political differences in close relationships often brush up against parts of us that learned, early and deeply, what love was supposed to feel like and what it cost to keep it.

If you’re feeling the pull to untangle some of that, I offer parts-work–informed and EMDR-focused intensives designed specifically for this kind of deep, nuanced inner work. These sessions help you:

• Meet the younger parts of you that still brace for rupture or rejection

• Process the grief, confusion, or longing that political tension can reactivate

• Strengthen your internal sense of safety so connection doesn’t require self-abandonment

• Move through old emotional stuck points rather than reliving them every holiday, every phone call, every news cycle

Whether you’re preparing for a hard season with family or integrating the emotional fallout afterward, this work can help you show up from a grounded, centered place—without minimizing your values or your pain.

If you’re curious about what this could look like for you, you can learn more or schedule a consultation. You don’t have to navigate these gray spaces alone.

A Few References (including ones that challenge my personal beliefs)

• Bowen, M. (1978). Family Therapy in Clinical Practice.

• Brady, W. J., Wills, J. A., Jost, J. T., Tucker, J. A., & Van Bavel, J. J. (2021). Emotion shapes the diffusion of moralized content in social networks. PNAS, 118(6).

• Freyd, J. J. (2018). Institutional Betrayal and Relational Violence. American Psychologist, 73(9).

• Gottman, J., & Silver, N. (2015). The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work. Harmony.

• Haidt, J., & Graham, J. (2007). When morality opposes justice: Conservatives have moral intuitions that liberals may not recognize. Social Justice Research, 20(1).

• Harell, A., Soroka, S., Iyengar, S., & Valentino, N. (2020). Disruption and distrust: American polarization and the social fabric. Annual Review of Political Science, 23.

• Hochschild, A. R. (2016). Strangers in Their Own Land: Anger and Mourning on the American Right. The New Press.