The holidays used to be magical. I remember those days when the kids were little, and it was so much fun. I loved it. A tree full of presents, twinkling lights, the smell of the fruit mince pies (I loved making them with 50% stewed apple) , the chatter of family gathered around the table—it all felt so full of life and love.
But the children have all grown and no longer wake at 4 AM to see what Santa left. In fact they are still asleep till noon. And my husband is no longer here to enjoy the fun and share some of the work. Christmas has changed. It has become a bittersweet reminder of what is missing.
If you’re like me, you’re probably dreading it. Not because you don’t love your family, but because the thought of hosting, decorating, or even putting on a happy face feels utterly exhausting. And yet, there are still those well-meaning relatives who insist, “You always host Christmas!” or, “It will do you good to keep up traditions.”
But what if you just… don’t feel like it?
Grieving During the Holidays Is Hard
Grief has its own timetable, and it doesn’t care that it’s Christmas. While the world decks the halls and belts out carols, you might feel like crawling under a blanket until January. That’s okay.
Grieving isn’t just sadness; it’s fatigue, numbness, and the heavy weight of trying to carry on as if nothing has changed when, in fact, everything has.
When your husband was here, Christmas felt joyful—or at least manageable. Now, the thought of orchestrating a big celebration can feel like an impossible task. The noise, the questions, the expectations… it’s all too much.
And yet, people don’t understand. They don’t mean to be insensitive, but their “helpful” suggestions—“Just get through it for the kids” or “He’d want you to keep the tradition alive”—can feel more like pressure than support.
It’s Okay to Say No
Here’s the thing: You are not obligated to host Christmas. You’re not required to be joyful, keep up traditions, or make others feel comfortable at the expense of your own well-being. Grief is a deeply personal journey, and it’s okay to protect your energy.
If hosting feels like too much, you have every right to say no. Yes, even if you’ve always hosted. Yes, even if certain relatives pout or guilt-trip you. Your emotional health matters more than upholding a tradition.
Here are some gentle yet firm ways to communicate your boundaries:
- “This year, I need to step back and take care of myself. I won’t be hosting, but I hope you all have a wonderful celebration.”
- “I love that Christmas has been at my house in the past, but things are different now, and I need a quieter holiday this year.”
- “I just don’t have the emotional or physical energy to host this year. Thank you for understanding.”
It might feel uncomfortable at first, especially if you’re used to putting others’ needs ahead of your own. But setting boundaries is an act of self-care, not selfishness.
If You Need a Plan B
Of course, just because you’re not hosting doesn’t mean you have to skip Christmas altogether—unless you want to, and that’s okay too. But if you’d like to mark the day in a way that feels manageable, here are a few alternatives:
- Keep It Simple: Have a quiet meal with a close friend or a smaller group of family members. No pressure, no fanfare—just a cozy, low-key gathering. Go to a restaurant and they can do all the work. Or have a picnic with prawns and ham.
- Start a New Tradition: Bake cookies in your pyjamas, watch your favourite movies, or take a holiday walk. Let go of what you “should” do and focus on what feels comforting.
- Volunteer: Sometimes, helping others can ease the ache. Consider spending part of the day volunteering at a shelter or organizing donations for those in need.
- Skip It Altogether: If the whole idea of Christmas feels unbearable, give yourself permission to opt out. Take a trip, book a spa day, or stay home with a good book. Last year I had a bad dose of COVID on Christmas day, and it was wonderful!!! I stayed home, watched movies and slept. I wonder if I had been stressing too much??
What About the Relatives Who Don’t Get It?
There will likely be a few who push back, who don’t understand why you’re not hosting or participating as you usually do. You might hear things like:
- “But we’ve always done it this way!”
- “The kids will be so disappointed.”
- “Don’t you want to keep his memory alive?”
It’s okay to acknowledge their feelings while standing firm in your decision. You might say:
- “I know this is a change, and I appreciate your understanding. I’m just not in a place to host this year.”
- “I hope we can create new memories together, but I need to do what’s best for me right now.”
Remember, you don’t have to justify your grief or your choices. The people who truly care about you will understand, even if it takes time.
Permission to Do What Feels Right
The holidays are hard when you’re grieving. There’s no one-size-fits-all solution, no right or wrong way to handle them. What matters most is honouring where you are in your journey.
If hosting feels impossible, let it go. If the idea of celebrating feels hollow, skip it or reinvent it in a way that feels manageable. You have permission to take care of yourself, even if it means disappointing others.
Christmas will come and go, but your healing deserves to take centre stage.
Give yourself a present
This is a new tradition I started last year, and I love it. I was watching all the ads for jewellery and feeling sad that my husband was not here to buy me a present as he loved buying me jewellery.
So, I decided to buy myself something that I wanted. A present from my husband to me. Last year I bought a ruby and diamond heart necklace. It is beautiful. I am still to choose my present for this year, but I have been looking at rings.
One idea of a present you might want to give yourself is a week in Bali in June 2025. Myself and my friend Andrea are facilitating a retreat with all the relaxation and self care vibes of Bali along with support and guidance to navigate your new life. Check it out here.