The holidays are synonymous with family gatherings—those moments of love, tradition, laughter, and sometimes tension. The season involves reconnecting with a patchwork of personalities: the cherished loved ones, the quirky relatives, the grouchy ones, and even those we’ve clashed with over the years. It’s a bittersweet mix that brings warmth but also its fair share of challenges. No wonder advice on surviving family visits floods our screens every December, constantly reminding us that relatives are the family we’re born into, friends are the family we choose.

But coming home can also be more than spending time with relatives. We’re stepping into the spaces and relationships that shaped who we are. These reunions sometimes stir a mix of nostalgia, joy, and unresolved emotions. Old dynamics resurface. The child we used to be sometimes reappears, complete with feelings we thought we’d outgrown.

Maybe you find yourself back in your childhood role. Your mother’s well-meaning but unsolicited advice sparks resentment, or your father’s indifference mid-conversation brings back that sting of invisibility. Despite being adults, you thought you left these emotions behind, yet here they are, alive and kicking, leaving you wondering, Why am I suddenly feeling like a kid again?

It’s Okay If You’re Not That Excited About The Holidays

A 2014 NAMI study shows 64% of people with mental illness report the holidays worsen their conditions. A 2021 survey reported 3 in 5 Americans say that the season negatively impacts their mental health—a trend that’s steadily climbing year over year.

Even if you don’t have a formal diagnosis, you might feel sad, anxious, or low during this time. And that’s normal. If you’re someone who genuinely loves the holidays, that’s great! Truly, go ahead—celebrate, be merry, and soak it all in.

But we must also acknowledge the unspoken assumption that everyone should love the season, as if happiness is a fixed trait. For many, though, the holidays are more of a burden than a delight.

Sometimes, the heaviness comes from the past—memories of difficult years—or from the pressure of the present: the gift-buying, the gatherings, the relentless cheer. If the people around you are glowing with festive spirit, it’s easy to feel like you have to put on a show, too.

But you don’t have to. Feeling sad, anxious, or not-quite-cheerful doesn’t make you a party pooper. And if you’ve ever found yourself overeating or drinking too much during this season (as some resort to), ask yourself: are you celebrating, or are you coping?

The truth is, you don’t have to force happiness. But with contentment and acceptance—these things come in their own time, it doesn’t help much that happiness isn’t always on tap, and that’s okay. Oddly enough, when you stop chasing it, it has a way of sneaking up on you.

If the season feels heavy this year, note that it’s just a season. From experience, I want you to know that it will pass. And one day soon, you might find yourself breathing a little easier, ready for whatever’s next.

It’s Okay If You’re Celebrating Christmas Alone

The second time I spent Christmas alone, I had just moved to a new state. A fresh start, new faces—but none of it felt familiar yet. Technically, I wasn’t alone for most of the big celebratory days, still I was alone. I went through the motions, smiled when expected, even tried to take care of others. But beneath it all, I felt like a spectator. I just wanted to slip away, crawl into bed, and sleep through the noise.

It had been a tough year, one of those years where “holding it together” felt like the most fragile kind of victory. Three months later, my life looked very different—I’d even made big changes, found a better rhythm, and started to feel whole again. But that particular Christmas was raw and lonely. It just was.

This year, I’m in a different place. I’m thankful—not just for a holiday on the calendar, but for the perspective that comes with time. I’m where I need to be, and there’s peace in that.

If this season feels hard for you, know that it’s okay not to feel okay. It might get better, eventually. Or it might not, and that’s okay too. You don’t have to force cheerfulness, no matter how many twinkling lights or festive songs surround you. Pretending doesn’t make it easier—it just makes it lonelier.

I won’t pretend it’s easier being you’re on your own when everyone else is being merry, it might hurt and feel like the whole world is celebrating without you. Sadly, there’s no quick fix for that ache, no miraculous cheer up will make it disappear. Sometimes, you just have to sit with it and let the season pass.

Somewhere out there, others are walking through the same quiet streets, making the same small meals, or curling up on the couch to pass the time.

Let this quote from Martin Luther King Jr. be a reminder:

“If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.”

This season may be tough—but it won’t last forever. And neither will loneliness. If this year is tough, hold on. Next year might surprise you.