Every holiday season, we hear from readers who feel trapped as the “default host” — the one with the biggest space, the most patience, or the weakest boundaries. This story comes from someone who finally hit her breaking point after six years of cooking, cleaning, and footing the bill for everyone else’s Christmas.What she discovered about holiday “traditions” might surprise you — and reveal who’s really benefiting from them. Here’s her letter.For six straight years, Christmas magically ended up at my place. Not because I begged for it. Not because I adored playing holiday servant. But because I had “the biggest and most convenient apartment,” everyone quietly decided that made me the official, unpaid Christmas employee for life.

Every single year, I cooked for 12–18 people. I scrubbed the apartment for days. I decorated. I planned the menu. I hauled groceries. And yes — I paid for everything. Alone. Last Christmas? Over $700 out of my pocket. What did everyone else bring? Absolutely nothing. No sides. No drinks. Not even a pack of napkins.This year, I finally dared to say the unthinkable in the group chat, “If I’m hosting again, I’ll need everyone to chip in for the food.” You’d think I’d asked them to sell an organ. My best friend shot back, “Wow… since when do we nickel-and-dime Christmas?” My cousin helpfully suggested, “If money’s tight, just make less food.” And one friend actually had the audacity to write, “Well, it’s at your place, so it makes sense that you handle the cooking.”That’s when it hit me: these people weren’t confused. They weren’t unaware. They were comfortable. Comfortable watching me burn out, bankroll their holiday, and smile while doing it. So I stopped smiling. I replied, “If no one wants to contribute, then Christmas dinner at my place is canceled. Someone else is welcome to host.”