If the Holidays Feel Heavy, You’re Not Alone: Preparing for a holiday that will disappoint

The only season I ever feel like I might be doing it wrong is this one. That still surprises me. I do not struggle much with comparison, but as soon as the holidays approach, something in me shifts. I see someone’s tree styled weeks early, coordinated and picture ready, and I start to wonder if I am missing something. Not effort, exactly. It is more like some deep commitment to crafting a mood. I watch women organize events, themed dinners, little moments fresh out of what feels like a magazine, and I think perhaps I should care more. Then I remember I do care, just not in that way, and guilt somehow settles in anyway.

I believe we have drifted far from what truly matters. Somewhere along the way, we made the season heavier than it was intended to be. We plan, manage, arrange, host, and then convince ourselves it is all for meaning. Sometimes it probably is. Often it is not. It is pressure with a nicer name. Worry wrapped up to look like joy.

There is also this quiet belief among women that busyness proves something. Like the more we take on, the more valid our effort becomes. We carry the schedules. We remember every detail. We keep the tone of the day in check. We try to make everything feel special, and then measure ourselves by how well it is received. Yet the more we try to create the experience, the less we actually experience it.

I do not see God looking at our frantic movement and saying, “Yes, that is what I wanted.” Jesus never hurried. He never forced momentum. He moved slowly and paid attention. He made room for what mattered, even if it came unplanned. He offered presence, not performance.

Maybe what we call preparation is often performance in disguise. It is difficult to admit, but necessary. Creating a moment is not the same thing as allowing space for one.

My own frustration with the season is not really about the noise around me. It is about the role I believed I was meant to fill. I do not fuss over décor. I do not chase the storybook version of the day. That still makes me feel like I fall short. I have started to wonder if the guilt is not conviction at all. It might be comparison trying to speak in a voice I should not be listening to.

Joy does not arrive because we organized everything well. It comes through surrender. The Christmas story did not unfold in a carefully planned setting. It happened in a place most would have avoided. No grand preparation. Just quiet obedience. Just presence.

So this year, I am choosing to step back. Allow simple to be enough. Let the day stand as it is, not as proof of anything. If something feels flat or someone walks away disappointed, then that is what happens. Better that than silently resenting the season meant to draw me closer to Christ.

One practical thing I am doing is taking December off social media. It is not a bold move. It is simply acknowledgment. I do not need more windows into what everyone else is doing. I need fewer. I need room to be exactly where I am, without comparison suggesting I belong somewhere else. It is a small step toward being present.

I am not trying to lower any standard. I am ready to release the idea that one exists. What if we are not meant to control the experience at all. What if we are just meant to notice what is already true.

If disappointment comes, and it very likely will, maybe it is not failure. Maybe it is invitation.