Queering Traditions: How Queer People Reclaim Holiday Rituals

Who is good for you?

Between Anticipation and an Empty Place

Holidays, rituals, and family traditions are meant to give us a sense of stability. They tell us where we come from, who we are connected to, and what matters to us. But for many trans and queer people, they carry a second story as well. It is the story of people who once naturally had a place at the table and are now missing. Sometimes because they left. Sometimes because they do not accept our true identity. Sometimes because contact still exists, but only under conditions that make open and honest connection impossible.

Especially during the holidays, this absence becomes particularly visible. Familiar music, a certain meal, or a smell coming from the kitchen can awaken memories long before we consciously think about them. Images of happy extended families seem to be everywhere. And then there is the question that sounds so harmless and can still hurt: “Are you going home to your family for the holidays?”

There is no simple answer to that. Queer and trans people are often grieving more than just people. They are also grieving a hoped-for future, a sense of belonging, things they once expected to be taken for granted, and sometimes the hope that one day they might finally be accepted without conditions.

That grief does not disappear simply because you decide to have a beautiful holiday. But it does not have to determine everything that is still possible on that day.

Traditions Were Never Unchanging

Traditions often seem as though they have always been exactly the way they are. In reality, they are constantly changing. Families move, relationships begin, children grow up, people die, and new people enter our lives. Times shift, dishes are replaced, and eventually no one remembers why a certain little detail became part of the tradition in the first place.

A tradition is therefore not a law. It is something people repeat because it gives them meaning. If it only hurts, excludes, or forces someone to hide part of who they are, it is allowed to change.

That is exactly what “queering” can mean. It is not simply about decorating an existing celebration with rainbow colors. It is about questioning the rules that seem self-evident. Who counts as family? Who gets to lead a ritual? Which roles are assigned to men and women? Whose name is spoken? Who has to adapt so that others can continue their traditions undisturbed?

To queer a tradition means opening it up so that the people involved can genuinely exist within it. Sometimes a small change is enough. Sometimes something entirely new needs to be created.

Distance Can Be Self-Protection

Not every invitation has to be accepted. Not every family gathering is an appropriate place for yet another fundamental debate. And no one is obligated to endure misgendering, deadnaming, demeaning comments, or demonstrative silence simply because there is a holiday on the calendar.

A boundary can take different forms. Maybe the visit is limited to two hours. Maybe there is a clear agreement beforehand about which name and pronouns will be used. Maybe a trusted person comes along. Maybe the meeting takes place somewhere neutral. And sometimes the healthiest decision is not to go at all.

That does not make someone unloving, nor does it erase the history they share with others. You can miss someone and still be unable to tolerate contact with them. You can long for reconciliation while knowing that it must not come at the cost of your own dignity. Two seemingly contradictory feelings can both be true at the same time.

Anyone who decides to visit can make a small protection plan beforehand. A fixed departure time, independent transportation, an agreed-upon signal with a companion, or someone who can be reached in between can restore a degree of control. Even a sentence such as “I’m not discussing that today” can be prepared in advance. Boundaries do not have to be spontaneously phrased in an especially clever way to be valid.

Keeping What Still Brings Warmth

A celebration that has become painful does not have to be abandoned completely. Some parts of it do not belong to the people who hurt us. A grandmother’s recipe, a morning walk, a particular song, or watching an old movie together can still be meaningful.

Maybe the same meal is now cooked for different people. Maybe the familiar ritual gets a new time or a new place. Maybe only one small detail remains. That is enough too.

It can help to consciously distinguish between different things: What do I want to keep because it genuinely means something to me? What am I repeating only out of obligation? What would I like to try changing this year? The answers do not have to apply forever. A tradition can be reconsidered every year.

Chosen Family Is Family

The idea that family can be created not only through ancestry but also through choice is not a new invention of queer pop culture. It has been the subject of social science research for decades. American cultural anthropologist Kath Weston helped establish the concept of “chosen family” through her fieldwork in San Francisco during the 1980s, showing how lesbian and gay people developed their own models of kinship based not on blood ties but on mutual care, commitment, and shared history. 5 For many queer people, chosen family is therefore not a second-rate substitute. It consists of people for whom your name is not up for debate, who do not demand explanations or justifications for relationships, and who support one another through both small and major crises.

More recent research also demonstrates how important social support is. Family acceptance among LGBTQIA* people is associated with better mental health, higher self-esteem, and stronger social integration. 1 Among trans people, social support can help buffer the effects of rejection and discrimination. 2 Longitudinal studies of LGBTQIA* youth show a similar pattern: Young people who initially experienced little or no family support but found support among friends or partners showed a greater reduction in psychological distress over time than young people who consistently received little support at any level. 3 Studies of queer chosen families also describe them not only as emotional communities but as networks of mutual care, practical assistance, and shared joy. An analysis of narratives by queer refugees found that families of origin were often associated with fear, danger, and uncertainty, while chosen families were associated with trust, understanding, and connection. 4

A queer celebration therefore does not have to look like the family celebration that came before it. It can be a large dinner with friends, breakfast for two, an online game night, or an open table where everyone brings something, similar to the “Friendsgiving” tradition common in English-speaking countries, in which friends celebrate together instead of or alongside their families of origin. It can bring together people with different religions, cultural backgrounds, and relationships to the day itself. No one has to stage a perfect new family. Chosen families are real relationships too, with different needs, limited energy, and occasional conflicts.

What matters is not how impressive the celebration looks. What matters is whether the people in it feel safe and welcome.

Rituals That Include Everyone

Many rituals can be opened up by asking just a few questions. Are invitations worded in a way that leaves room for different forms of family and relationships? Are gifts, clothing, or responsibilities unnecessarily assigned according to gender? Are names and pronouns respected? Can people participate if they have little money, cannot travel, have a disability, or become overwhelmed quickly in large groups? Are there places to retreat and an option to participate digitally?

Religious rituals can also be reconsidered without diminishing their meaning. Texts can be read together, roles do not have to be assigned according to gender, and chosen family can be explicitly included alongside family of origin. Anyone who no longer feels safe in their former religious community can look for queer-friendly congregations or preserve the spiritual meaning of a day in a private setting.

Sometimes the most inclusive change is surprisingly ordinary. The correct name appears on a place card. During the family photo, no one asks who “really” belongs to whom. A child is allowed to wear the clothes they feel comfortable in. A new partner is not treated like an appendage. No one at the table has to give a personal explanation of themselves.

In these small moments, abstract acceptance becomes lived belonging. Anyone planning a celebration with a chosen family spread across several cities or even countries may benefit from assigning responsibilities early and concretely: Who is taking care of the food, who is handling the digital connection, who is keeping an eye on whether someone withdraws or seems overwhelmed? Clear agreements can reduce pressure, especially when the celebration itself is already improvised and newly assembled.

Giving Grief a Place

A new ritual does not have to drive grief away. It can give grief a limited and loving place. Maybe a candle is lit for a relationship that is no longer there. Maybe a letter is written and never sent. Maybe the old photograph is not put on display, but is looked at consciously beforehand. Maybe there is a walk during which everything is allowed to feel sad before the rest of the day begins.

Gestures like these can help prevent missing someone from having to be carried silently throughout the entire day. They mark something clearly: This loss is real. It gets space. But it does not necessarily get every space.

There is no timetable for this. An estrangement may have happened years ago and suddenly feel close again because of a particular smell. One holiday may feel easy and the next one difficult. Healing is not linear, and having a beautiful day does not prove that the loss has been overcome.

The Small Things Count

When everything around us talks about holiday happiness, even positivity can become another demand. Then we are expected not only to celebrate, but also to feel grateful and create a new, better tradition. But joy cannot be commanded.

Maybe the good thing about a difficult day is simply the first quiet cup of coffee. A message from someone who is thinking of you. The meal that turned out well. A pet curling up next to you at exactly the right moment. The liberating feeling of not having to explain who you are today. Ten minutes in which the tension eases.

These moments are not too small. They do not have to make up for anything either. Something beautiful is allowed to be beautiful without disproving the pain. And the pain is allowed to exist without invalidating everything beautiful.

Sometimes it helps to consciously make the expectations for the day smaller. Not: “This celebration has to be wonderful.” But: “Today, I want to do one thing that is good for me.” Over time, one small thing that works can become something familiar. Maybe that is exactly how a new tradition begins.

Accepting Help Before Everything Becomes Too Much

Friends and chosen family can listen, accompany us, or help in very practical ways. It is often easier to say concretely what is needed: “Can I call you after dinner?”, “Can I spend the evening with you?” or “Please remind me that I am allowed to leave whenever I want.” People are often happy to help, but they do not automatically know what would make things easier in that moment.

Queer centers, local groups, and peer counseling services offer support from people who understand similar experiences. The dgti operates peer-to-peer counseling centers throughout Germany for trans, intersex, nonbinary, and agender people. Bundesverband Trans* and Der Paritätische provide directories of counseling services. For young queer people, there is also Queersupport from the Jugendnetzwerk Lambda, as well as the anonymous advice service and moderated chats offered by Queer Lexikon.

If loneliness, grief, or fear persist and significantly affect everyday life, psychotherapeutic support can also be helpful. It is entirely appropriate to specifically look for a professional who is queer- and trans-sensitive. In an acute crisis, Germany’s TelefonSeelsorge is available anonymously and free of charge around the clock at 0800 1110111, 0800 1110222, or 116123. In an immediate emergency, call 112.

Accepting help does not mean failing at a holiday. It means not having to leave yourself alone.

We Are Allowed to Keep Writing Our Own Stories

Traditions connect the past and the future. That is exactly why it can hurt so much when people are missing from them. But the past does not have the sole right to determine what a celebration must look like today.

We are allowed to keep familiar things, rename them, move them, or let them go. We are allowed to celebrate with our chosen family, spend the day alone, or declare an ordinary dinner something special. We are allowed to grieve. We are allowed to laugh. We are allowed to do both on the same day.

A queer tradition does not have to be perfect, and it does not even have to look especially queer. Maybe it simply means that no one has to make themselves smaller in order to belong. Maybe that is its most beautiful core.

Yours, Lizbeth

Sources

1. Ryan, C., Russell, S. T., Huebner, D., Diaz, R. & Sanchez, J. (2010). Family Acceptance in Adolescence and the Health of LGBT Young Adults. Journal of Child and Adolescent Psychiatric Nursing, 23(4), 205–213. DOI: 10.1111/j.1744-6171.2010.00246.x. PMID: 21073595. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/21073595/

2. Trujillo, M. A., Perrin, P. B., Sutter, M., Tabaac, A. & Benotsch, E. G. (2017). The Buffering Role of Social Support on the Associations among Discrimination, Mental Health, and Suicidality in a Transgender Sample. International Journal of Transgenderism, 18(1), 39–52. DOI: 10.1080/15532739.2016.1247405. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC5996383/

3. McConnell, E. A., Birkett, M. & Mustanski, B. (2016). Families Matter: Social Support and Mental Health Trajectories Among Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Youth. Journal of Adolescent Health, 59(6), 674–680. DOI: 10.1016/j.jadohealth.2016.07.026. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC5217458/

4. Kim, S. & Feyissa, I. F. (2021). Conceptualizing „Family" and the Role of „Chosen Family" within the LGBTQ+ Refugee Community: A Text Network Graph Analysis. Healthcare, 9(4), 369. DOI: 10.3390/healthcare9040369. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC8066340/

5. Weston, K. (1991/1997). Families We Choose: Lesbians, Gays, Kinship. New York: Columbia University Press. https://cup.columbia.edu/book/families-we-choose/9780585380902/

Counseling and Support

• dgti e. V.: Peerberatung für trans* und inter* Menschen, bundesweit: https://dgti.org/peerberatung-fuer-trans-und-inter/

• Bundesverband Trans*: Übersicht von Beratungsstellen: https://www.bundesverband-trans.de/leichte-sprache/beratungsstellen/

• Der Paritätische: Beratungsstellen inter* trans*: https://www.der-paritaetische.de/themen/bereichsuebergreifende-themen/queer-im-paritaetischen/beratungsstellen-inter-trans/

• Queersupport des Jugendnetzwerks Lambda: https://queersupport.de/

• Queer Lexikon: anonymer Kummerkasten: https://queer-lexikon.net/askbox/

• Queer Lexikon: moderierte Chats (Regenbogenchat, Queer Chat): https://queer-lexikon.net/chats/

• TelefonSeelsorge Deutschland: https://www.telefonseelsorge.de/