If the holidays had a relationship status, mine would be “it’s complicated.”
Every November, the world flips straight into performative joy mode — pumpkin-spice-coated pressure, perfectly curated tablescapes on TikTok Shop, and influencers telling us to “romanticize our life” while I’m still trying to romanticize getting out of bed.
That’s the thing about holiday stress and mental health: the season arrives like an uninvited guest who swears they texted first.
It doesn’t care if you’re grieving.
It doesn’t care if you’re healing.
And it definitely doesn’t care if the only gift you want this year is eight uninterrupted hours of sleep and a dishwasher that doesn’t hiss like it hates you.
But here we are — trying to deck halls we barely have the energy to dust.
And as a single parent, the pressure hits different.
Not Target-aisle different.
Black-Friday-line-during-a-iPhone-drop different.
Suddenly, you’re expected to turn into a one-woman North Pole:
chef, decorator, memory-maker, therapist, chauffeur, and emotional Santa Claus.
Meanwhile the group chat is sending Christmas photo dumps and your kid is asking why their Elf on the Shelf isn’t doing parkour like the ones on Instagram.
Some days? I want to tell my Elf to get a job.
The Quiet Grief That Holiday Lights Can’t Hide
Let’s talk about the thing no Christmas movie ever covers:
Holiday joy has a shadow.
It’s the ache that slips in when you hear certain songs.
The lump that shows up when you set the table and notice someone missing.
The loneliness that blooms even when the room is full.
Coping with holiday depression is like trying to wrap a gift that keeps moving — you get the tape on one corner and the whole thing pops open again.
You’re supposed to “focus on gratitude,”
but sometimes all you feel is the grief.
And honestly?
That’s valid.
You don’t need to glitter-glue your emotions just because December showed up with bells on.
Grief doesn’t clock out for the holidays.
But neither does healing.
Gratitude: The Soft Glow in All the Chaos
Here’s what I’ve learned in my messy, miraculous, mid-healing era:
Gratitude isn’t a vibe — it’s a muscle.
A shaky one, sure. But still there.
Sometimes it looks like:
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My kid laughing so hard they snort.
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The way my living room looks after I finally put the tree up at 11:57 PM.
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A quiet car ride where the world stops spinning for a minute.
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A cup of hot chocolate that tastes like a small victory.
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Choosing myself when old versions of me would’ve chosen chaos.
Healing doesn’t need grand gestures.
Sometimes it’s just letting yourself breathe without apologizing.
Sometimes it’s saying:
“This holiday might not look perfect — but it’s mine, and I’m surviving it.”
Glory: The Part No One Warns You Feels Like a Plot Twist
Glory isn’t fireworks.
It’s not the Hollywood moment where snow falls in slow motion and everyone magically forgives each other.
Glory is quieter.
It sneaks in.
It’s the moment you realize the pressure didn’t crush you this year — it made you inventive.
It’s the way you find joy that fits your life instead of performing joy for someone else’s expectations.
It’s celebrating your small wins, not apologizing for your boundaries, and not letting anyone guilt-trip you into emotional labor disguised as holiday spirit.
Glory is choosing peace even when chaos keeps trying to text you “u up?”
Glory is knowing you’re building new traditions rooted in truth and love — not survival.
Glory is seeing the holiday storm coming, taking a deep breath, and saying:
“I’ll meet you outside. Let’s dance.”
So… What Now?
Maybe this is the year you realize:
✨ You don’t need a perfect holiday — just an honest one.
✨ You can carry grief and gratitude in the same heart, and still find room for glory.
✨ You can struggle and shine.
✨ You’re not behind, broken, or failing. You’re evolving.
If the holidays swipe in like a tidal wave, you don’t have to drown.
You can float, you can kick, you can scream into a pillow if you need to.
Healing is messy, but so are the best holiday stories.
And if no one told you this yet —
You’re doing better than you think.
Your glow-up isn’t waiting for January.
It’s happening right now, quietly, bravely, beautifully — in the middle of all this holiday chaos.
