Surviving Holidays
Hello!
Holidays. High days and holy days. Gatherings with family and friends that are meant to be wonderful (and sometimes are) can also leave us feeling drained, disappointed, or downright bewildered. If you've ever walked away from Christmas dinner or a family holiday wondering what on earth went wrong, you're not alone. My inbox is always rammed in January and after the summer holidays with confused people trying to make sense of what happened.
Why Holidays Can Be So Tricky
I think it’s helpful to start by acknowledging that these occasions are genuinely difficult. It's not you. It's not your family being uniquely dysfunctional. These gatherings bring together a perfect storm of challenging ingredients.
First, there are the expectations: yours, your partner's, your children's, your parents', your in-laws'. We all arrive carrying different dreams of what the day should look like, often shaped by telly adverts or some idealised version we've created in our heads. The problem is, we rarely discuss these expectations in advance with each other. We sort out the logistics like what time the turkey goes in or where everyone is going to sleep, but we don't sit down beforehand and say, "What are you hoping for from this day? What would make it feel good for you?"
Then there's the minefield of different family cultures. You grow up in your family thinking that's just how Christmas is. No one tells you that next door likely do it differently. Presents before dinner or afterwards? Telly on or off? Church or no church? When you bring a partner into the mix you're navigating an entirely different landscape with different rituals, routines, and unspoken rules. It can feel like trying to read a map in the dark.
Add to this the pressure around gifts, choosing the right thing, managing disappointment, dealing with children's reactions whilst everyone's watching. The stress of hosting or the discomfort of being a guest. The comparative moments: whose child has better table manners, who's more helpful, who's getting more attention. And underneath it all, those relentless micro-aggressions, the little digs and putdowns disguised as jokes, the "where's your sense of humour?" when you dare to say something hurt.
It's exhausting, isn't it? And that's before we even mention that you're all stuck together 24/7, away from your usual routines and the spaces that normally give you breathing room.
The Pressure Cooker Effect
So you might find yourself holding back, biting your tongue, trying to keep the peace. You notice the snide comment but say nothing. You see the tension building but ignore it. You're literally holding your breath, not breathing properly, creating more and more internal pressure. And then perhaps you explode! Or alternatively, you spend the entire time clock-watching, yearning to get home (or for everyone to leave) and to get back to normal.
The problem with trying to be perfect, or demanding the day be perfect, is that perfection simply isn't attainable. The dog might eat the stuffing. Someone might get sick. The carefully planned schedule might go out the window. Life happens. And when we're rigidly attached to how things "should" be, we miss the opportunity to discover what actually could be.
What Can You Do About It?
There isn't one magic solution but there are some approaches that can genuinely help.
Choose a purpose. Before the event, decide on your intention for the day. Not what will happen, but how you want to be. Your purpose might be simply "to have a good time" or "to connect with people" or "to be helpful." This gives you a touchstone, something to come back to when you feel yourself getting lost in the chaos. If your purpose is to connect and you find yourself dropping off on the sofa after too much wine, you can notice that and gently bring yourself back.
Be realistic about what's possible. If you know X and Y don't get on, if you're currently out with C, if D hurt your feelings yesterday, is it really going to be magical fun for everyone? Probably not and that's okay. You can go in with a more balanced view: there might be some lovely moments and some awkward ones. There might be connections and there might be tensions. Both can be true.
Create space in your schedule. If you've planned something different every ten minutes, you've set yourself up for stress. Punctuate the day with pauses. Leave room for things to go sideways. Leave room for people to just be, without constant activity or entertainment.
Park things for later. If someone makes a narky comment, you don't have to address it in the moment. You can notice it, log it, and decide to follow up another day when there's more space for a proper conversation. Not everything needs to be dealt with on the day. The exception, of course, is if someone's really going after you then you absolutely can say "enough."
Small Shifts That Help
There are some smaller practices that can make a surprising difference:
Connect first, communicate later. Before launching into your to-do list, make meaningful contact with people. A genuine "good morning," eye contact, a hug. It’s too easy to rush past those pleasantries when we’re stressed yet they matter enormously.
Notice bids for attention. When someone shows you something or suggests something, pause and respond enthusiastically even if it's just "that sounds lovely, let's do it a bit later when I'm less tired." Children do this constantly, but adults need it too. We're all seeking those small moments of recognition and connection.
Use the magic words. Sorry. Thank you. I love you. They're simple, but expressed sincerely genuinely help.
Identify your support person. If you're going in as part of a couple, remember you're a team and have each other's backs. If you're going solo, identify someone in advance who you can check in with, someone who'll look out for you. And if all else feels overwhelming, it's okay to lean into the children and pets - they're wonderfully non-judgemental and can help you stay steady.
The Practice of Letting Go
Here's something Aileen said in our conversation that really struck me: every time we gather, the whole world has changed. Every cell in our bodies has changed. If we can remember this we can come into each gathering fresh, we can let go of trying to hold on to how things were or how we think they should be?
There's real freedom in approaching each gathering with fresh eyes. In saying, "I don't know what everyone's been through this year, this week, this day. I'm going to listen and see who they are now." This doesn't mean abandoning beloved traditions, it means allowing them to breathe and evolve rather than becoming deadly and fixed.
After It's Over
Make time for a debrief. How did we do this time? What do we want to learn for next year? What did we let go of that we'd like to pick back up? This keeps the whole thing alive and growing rather than stuck and repetitive.
And if it was difficult? If there were moments that hurt or confused you? Talk to someone, a friend who gets it, or perhaps someone like me. Don't let these things fester for years. Some family stories get told for decades, even when they're not funny and there's still bitterness or tension in the mix. You deserve to process and move forward.
A Final Thought
Every situation has pros and cons. Being with family has its challenges and its gifts. Being alone has its challenges and its gifts. There is no perfect option. So please, give yourself permission to let go of perfection. Approach these occasions with compassion—for others, yes, but also for yourself.
You're doing your best in genuinely complex situations. And that's enough.
If you'd like to hear the full conversation with Aileen that inspired this blog, you can listen to the episode on The Sex and Relationships Podcast. And if there's something particular you'd like us to discuss go to the website and press the
Be gentle with yourself this season.
Clare x