When the Holidays Hurt: Finding Light in a Hard Season
- The Broken & Beautiful
- Nov 25
- 2 min read
Updated: 1 day ago
When Joy Feels Far Away
The holidays are here—the lights are bright, the music is cheerful, and the world seems to hum with celebration. But maybe this year, your heart isn’t following the script. Maybe you’re grieving someone you loved, carrying the weight of a dream that fell apart, sitting with loneliness, or navigating illness and exhaustion.
For some, this season isn’t merry; it’s a reminder of everything that hurts. Certain memories resurface. Certain losses echo louder. The cheer around you can feel like sandpaper on an already tender heart.
If any of this feels like your reality, hear this clearly: you are not alone. You’re not “too much.” You’re not “falling behind.” You’re simply human—moving through a hard season while everyone else seems swept up in celebration. And you don’t owe the world a forced smile or a picture-perfect holiday.
Permission to Do This Season Differently
You get to choose how you move through this month. You don’t have to celebrate the way you always have—or the way others expect you to.
Maybe this is the year you let yourself rest instead of rushing. Maybe you decorate lightly or not at all. Maybe you light a single candle instead of filling a house with sparkle. Maybe you start a new ritual that’s gentle, honest, and true to where you are right now.
And if you’re longing for a safe place to acknowledge your sadness, many communities host “Blue Christmas” or “Longest Night” services—quiet, tender gatherings created for those who are grieving or hurting during the holidays. Sometimes simply sitting in a room with others who understand is enough to make the weight feel a little less lonely.
However you shape this season, the goal isn’t to “fix” your feelings. It’s to give yourself room to breathe, room to be real, room to heal in your own timing.
Light Will Return—Slowly, Gently, In Its Time
Your sadness isn’t a sign of failure. It’s evidence that something or someone mattered deeply. Grief and love are two sides of the same coin, and both deserve space.
As you move through these days, honor your heart. Feel what you need to feel. Ask for help if you need it. In the United States, you can call 988 for mental health support or 911 in an immediate crisis.
And hear this: you are seen, even in your heaviness. You are loved, even when you feel dim. The light will return—slowly, gently, in its own time. Until then, be soft with yourself.
A brief note from the Broken and Beautiful Collective: If your heart feels heavy this season, know that you’re held with compassion right where you are. And if you need a gentle place to land, I’d be honored to sit with you and hold space for your story.
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