01/12/2025
Every year, the festive season arrives with glitter, adverts full of togetherness, and the message that we should all be glowing with excitement. Some people really do feel that spark — and that’s beautiful.
But for many others, this time of year lands differently.
It can feel heavy.
Quiet.
Tender in places that still hurt.
What we rarely see behind the photos and decorations is how many people are holding sadness, stress, loneliness, or emotional fatigue while everyone else seems to be celebrating. Some are grieving someone they miss deeply. Some feel disconnected from family. Some are overwhelmed by the pressure to “be okay.” And some simply don’t have the energy to keep up with the expectations of the season.
Even for those who love Christmas, the expectation to be endlessly cheerful can feel like an extra weight to carry. What many people don’t realise is how deeply this season can magnify whatever has been hard throughout the year. The contrast between how we feel on the inside and how we think we “should” appear on the outside can feel painfully sharp. And yet — joy and heaviness can sit side by side. Even in difficult seasons, those tiny moments of warmth, kindness and magic still exist.
Why the holidays can feel hard; From the outside, it may look like everyone else is having the perfect Christmas. But the emotional reality underneath often looks very different:
• Unrealistic pressure to create the perfect day, the perfect mood, the perfect memory.
• Loneliness, whether you’re physically alone or feeling disconnected even in a room full of people.
• Financial strain, especially in the cost-of-living crisis.
• Family tensions that resurface the moment everyone is in one room.
• Social expectations, which leave many feeling guilty for not doing enough or being “festive enough.”
• Seasonal mood dips, as cold weather and darker days naturally shift our energy and emotional capacity.
None of these experiences mean you are failing. They simply mean you are human.
When loneliness feels louder; Loneliness during the holidays isn’t just about being alone — it’s also about feeling unseen or misunderstood. Lots of people spend Christmas day quietly with a pet, a book, or a simple meal. Others sit at crowded tables feeling more alone than ever. Some have bravely chosen distance from painful family patterns, and even that can ache.
Loneliness is not a flaw. It’s a reminder that we’re wired for connection — real, safe, nourishing connection.
The gentleness of solitude; For some people, solitude brings a different kind of comfort. Slower mornings. Lighting a candle. A long walk. Cooking something warm just for yourself.
Small rituals can hold us more than we realise. A smile from a stranger… a chat with a neighbour… even tiny moments of human warmth soften the edges.
When family feels complicated; Holiday films paint families as joyful and harmonious. Real life is rarely that simple.
Sometimes the hardest part of Christmas isn’t being alone — it’s being together.
Old roles appear again. Old hurts flare.
Many people stay quiet to “keep the peace,” even when their heart is hurting.
It’s okay to love your family and still find them difficult. Both can be true.
Boundaries that protect your peace. Healthy boundaries don’t make you unkind — they keep you emotionally safe. This might look like:
• deciding how long you stay
• stepping outside for a breather
• avoiding triggering conversations
• choosing not to attend something that drains you
A plan — grounding tools, a supportive friend to text, small moments of quiet — can help you feel steadier. You are allowed to protect your energy.
The pressure to be merry; For anyone living with anxiety, burnout, grief, trauma, depression, neurodiversity or simply a tired nervous system, “being cheerful” can feel unrealistic. Thoughts may show up like:
“Everyone else seems happy. What’s wrong with me?” There is nothing wrong with you. You’re responding to life with the nervous system you have — and that’s okay.
Sometimes the simplest, gentlest Christmas is the one we actually need.
Little ways to find light again. There’s no quick fix, but small acts of care can help:
• Tiny gratitude: a warm drink, a blanket, a quiet moment outside.
• Gentle connection: a safe friend, a neighbourly chat, community spaces.
• Move your body: soft stretching, a slow walk, dancing around your kitchen.
• Self-compassion: speak to yourself the way you’d speak to someone you love.
• Limit comparison: social media is a highlight reel, not reality.
• One moment at a time: slow down the pace and simplify where you can.
These small things support the nervous system and help settle emotional overwhelm.
When to reach out;: If the heaviness lingers or becomes overwhelming, you are not meant to carry it alone. Therapy offers a confidential, grounding space to explore what feels difficult, gently unpack emotional patterns, and reconnect with your own strength. Reaching out is not weakness — it’s an act of courage and self-care.
The festive season brings both light and shadow. Whatever you feel this year — joy, sadness, numbness, relief, loneliness, hope — it’s all valid.
Be gentle with yourself. Give yourself grace. And remember: even in the darker days, light can still be found — often in the smallest, quietest moments.
If you need support, I’m here.
