Simplifying Holidays
Navigating the holidays as an adult can be strangely heavy. Some years, I find myself almost ashamed to admit that the joy of the season feels in short supply—especially since I come from a family where yuletide cheer seemed to be effortlessly served on a silver platter. (I know now that behind every moment of Christmas magic is a thoroughly exhausted mother, but it took me years to come to terms with this reality.)
The more I thought about the pressures of the holidays, the more I realized that nearly every “Adult Christmas Era” of my life has carried its own disappointments. And at the risk of sounding like a Scrooge, I’m going to share a few footnotes from each era:
During singlehood, the desire for companionship was distracting.
In early dating, I was still attending important events alone.
As a newlywed, I was blindsided by the impossible task of enmeshing the schedules of two very close-knit families.
Motherhood with infants was a mess. More moments than I care to admit were spent hiding in relatives’ homes while trying to breastfeed my overstimulated baby—in a tutu—mid–hot flash.
Life with toddlers was sweet, but also full of public meltdowns that only intensified with each skipped nap.
Then came cancer. That season humbled us all and reminded us that each year is never guaranteed, and that the details don’t matter nearly as much as the memories.
Then came grief. The first year felt like a blur; the second was both sharp and bittersweet as we faced the harsh reality that important loss doesn’t disappear with time.
For years, I felt obligated to ignore the discouraging parts of these seasons. I felt pressure to pretend everything was always merry and bright. But eventually, I decided I didn’t want to do that anymore. I made the choice to say no to perfection and yes to presence.
There are heavy and hard parts to every holiday season, but each era I mentioned above held small, good moments too. And it’s the combination of all those eras that keeps this exhausted mother willing to face the chaos of another year.
I have yet to discover a recipe for simplifying my December calendar or keeping my kids from remembering every tradition we’ve ever done. But I have learned to let go of the expectation that any of it needs to be perfect. I’m learning to simplify what matters most to me each year—and to refuse to let the disappointments along the way (because they will happen) steal the era that’s being written right now.