Mental Health & The Holidays
With Thanksgiving behind us, we slide straight into weeks of Christmas preparation, only to emerge into the long stretch of winter with no major holidays left to break up the cold. Winter can be challenging on its own, especially for those of us who navigate anxiety, depression, seasonal depression, or any other mental health struggles. But for people who don’t have family in their lives—or who have had to step back from certain relationships for their own well-being—the season can feel even heavier. Boundaries are necessary and healthy, but that doesn’t mean the holidays aren’t triggering in their own way, no matter why those boundaries were set.
I’m lucky to have the family I do—my husband, my children, my in-laws. Without them, this time of year would be much harder, and I’m incredibly grateful. Even so, my thoughts regularly drift to the family I’ve lost or no longer have close. I think about my mom and my step-dad—who was so much more than the word "step" could ever define—and how deeply their absence is felt, RIP. I think about my dad, and how I miss him, or maybe miss the potential of what could have been. I picture holidays with him, my step-mom, and my step-siblings that haven’t been possible for years and will never come to be. I replay memories—the ones I cherish and the ones I don’t—and I think about which of those traditions I want to pass on to my children, and which ones I’m grateful to leave behind. Sometimes I imagine what life would look like if all our kids were growing up together, celebrating Christmas as one big blended family.
The truth is, the holidays have a way of shining a spotlight on what’s missing. Empty chairs at the table feel bigger this time of year. Estranged relationships feel heavier. Grief gets louder. And even when you are surrounded by people you love, you can still feel the ache of the ones who aren’t there.
If you’re navigating the season without the family you grew up with—or without the family you wished you had—your feelings are valid. You’re not “too sensitive” for finding this time of year complicated. You’re not wrong for needing peace more than proximity. And you’re certainly not alone in feeling conflicted: grateful for the life you have now, while still grieving the one you imagined.
What I’ve learned, slowly and sometimes painfully, is that family can look different as we grow. It can be made through friendships, partnerships, children, or chosen community. It can be small and still meaningful. It can be quiet and still full. The holidays may never feel the way they once did, but that doesn’t mean they can’t still hold beauty—just a different kind of beauty than before.
If this season is hard for you, be gentle with yourself. Create traditions that feel grounding. Say no when you need to. Seek connection where it feels safe. And most importantly, remember that your worth is not defined by who shows up for you, or who doesn’t. Sometimes the bravest, most healing thing we can do is build a life that feels peaceful—even if it looks nothing like the one we pictured.
