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When Christmas Doesn't Feel Merry (And Winter Feels Too Heavy)

Hey…

Pull up a blanket. Sit with me for a minute.
I want to talk about something a lot of people feel but almost nobody says out loud — especially this time of year.

Because honestly?
Winter hits different when you’re already someone who feels deeply.
And Christmas… well, Christmas can be a whole emotional landmine all on its own.

Everyone else seems so excited — the lights, the music, the “What are your plans?!” conversations.
Meanwhile, some of us are just trying to survive the cold mornings, the dark afternoons, and the pressure of pretending we’re okay.

If that’s you, just know… same.
And you’re not broken for feeling this way.

There’s something about winter that magnifies everything.
The quiet becomes louder.
The darkness feels closer.
And suddenly you’re remembering every person you’ve lost, every holiday that didn’t go the way you hoped, every version of yourself that tried so damn hard.

It’s like the season unwraps things you weren’t ready to open.

And then Christmas arrives with its big emotional expectations.
Family. Warmth. Magic. Joy.
All the things you’re supposed to feel.

But what if you don’t?

What if you’re exhausted, or lonely, or grieving, or overwhelmed?
What if the holidays remind you of everything you’re still healing from?
What if the world feels sparkly on the outside and hollow on the inside?

Let me say this gently, and clearly:

You’re not a bad person for not feeling “merry and bright.”
You’re a human being who’s been carrying a lot.

Some years, the holidays feel like a hug.
Other years, they feel like a weight.

And that’s okay.

Maybe this winter you’re missing someone.
Maybe you’re missing a version of yourself.
Maybe things changed in ways you didn’t want them to.
Maybe you’re trying to rebuild.
Maybe you’re just tired — tired in that soul-deep, bone-level way that winter seems to amplify.

If so… I’m wrapping this whole paragraph around you like a scarf:

You are allowed to have a quiet Christmas.
You are allowed to have a small Christmas.
You are allowed to protect your peace, even if it means disappointing other people.

And here’s the thing — you don’t have to “fix” your feelings before December 25th.
You don’t have to pretend you’re jolly just because the calendar says so.
You don’t have to fake that everything is magical when you’re just trying to make it through the week.

Some of the bravest holidays are the ones where you show up exactly as you are.

So if you need to cry, cry.
If you need to rest, rest.
If you only have the energy to watch the same comfort movie on repeat — do it.
If all you manage is wrapping yourself in a blanket like a burrito and eating cookies straight out of the box… honestly? That sounds like a solid plan.

And if there are tiny pockets of joy — like warm lights on a cold night, or a good cup of hot chocolate, or a song that makes you breathe a little softer — hold onto those.
You’re allowed to take joy in spoonfuls, not gallons.

You’re still worthy of love and softness, even on the days you feel numb.
You’re still doing your best, even when your best looks smaller in winter.
And you are absolutely not alone in this seasonal heaviness.

If no one has said it yet — I’m proud of you for getting through a season that isn’t easy for you.
I’m proud of you for feeling things deeply, even when it hurts.
I’m proud of you for surviving the cold inside and outside.

You are doing enough.
You are enough.

And if this winter is a tough one?
Spring still comes.
Light still returns.
Hearts thaw too.

Until then… stay warm, stay gentle with yourself, and don’t be afraid to make your own kind of Christmas — even if it’s quiet, cozy, and looks nothing like the movies.

I’m right here with you. 💛

~Your Beautiful Mind

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