As the holidays approach, I’ve been thinking about how I want to spend the next couple of months. Halloween is almost here, and before we know it, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s will follow. Everywhere I look, I’m starting to see decorations, holiday advertisements, and people making plans. And while there’s a part of me that enjoys this season, there’s another part that’s already preparing for the emotions that might come with it.
I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced that feeling where the holidays haven’t even arrived, but you’re already thinking about how you’re going to get through them. Not necessarily because you’re expecting something terrible to happen, but because you know certain memories tend to come back around this time. You know there are places, songs, conversations, and traditions that might remind you of someone or something you miss.
Sometimes it’s something as simple as walking into a grocery store and seeing Christmas decorations. You weren’t thinking about anything in particular. You were probably just there to buy groceries, and suddenly something reminds you of a person, a relationship, or a moment in your life that you wish you could experience again.
I’ve had that happen more times than I can count.
And one of the things I’ve been thinking about lately is this: How do we find moments of joy when the people, relationships, or circumstances that once brought us joy are no longer part of our lives?
I wish I could tell you I have a simple answer. I don’t. But I do have experiences, and maybe somewhere in those experiences, you’ll recognize something about your own life.
Am I the Only One Feeling This Way?
You know, one of the things I’ve noticed about the holidays is how easily loneliness can show up, even when we’re surrounded by people.
Have you ever been at a gathering where everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, and you’re genuinely trying to have a good time, but something inside feels disconnected? You’re laughing, participating in conversations, and doing everything everyone else is doing, yet there’s this feeling you can’t quite explain.
I’ve experienced that.
And sometimes I find myself wondering, Am I the only one feeling this way? Am I the only one missing someone right now? Am I the only one struggling to enjoy something that everyone else seems so excited about?
I think loneliness can be one of the hardest feelings to explain because it doesn’t always mean we have nobody around us. Sometimes we’re missing a particular person. Sometimes we’re missing a version of our lives that no longer exists. And sometimes we’re surrounded by people who care about us, but we still feel like nobody truly understands what we’re experiencing.
The holidays can bring up so many different circumstances. Maybe you’re grieving someone who died. Maybe you’re going through a divorce, experiencing family conflict, living far away from home, dealing with an illness, or struggling financially. Maybe this is your first holiday after a major life change, and you’re not sure what celebrating is supposed to look like anymore.
I think about how often we see people sharing their holiday plans, family gatherings, and beautiful moments together. And while I genuinely enjoy seeing people happy, I also wonder how many people are quietly struggling behind those same pictures.
How many people are smiling while missing someone who should have been there? How many are attending gatherings because they don’t want to disappoint anyone? And how many are sitting at home wondering whether they’re the only ones spending the holidays alone?
I don’t think we talk about that enough.
When Everything Around You Becomes a Reminder
Something I’ve experienced over the years is that grief doesn’t always wait for a convenient moment.
You can be having a wonderful day, and suddenly a song, a smell, or something someone says brings back a memory. Sometimes the memory makes you smile. Other times, it brings a sadness you weren’t expecting.
And I think the holidays can make those moments more noticeable because so much of the season revolves around traditions and togetherness.
Maybe there’s a meal someone used to prepare every year. Maybe there’s a movie you always watched together. Maybe you remember decorating the house with someone, traveling to visit family, or sitting around a table where everyone had their usual place.
Then life changes.
And suddenly, you’re trying to figure out what to do with traditions that don’t feel the same anymore.
I’ve experienced that with my own family and with people I’ve loved throughout my life. There are things I still enjoy doing because they remind me of them, but there are also moments when I wish I could experience those things with them one more time.
I think that’s one of the difficult parts about missing someone. Sometimes it’s not only the person we miss. It’s the ordinary moments we shared with them.
The conversations. The laughter. The familiar routines. Even the little things we probably didn’t think much about when they were happening.
And when the holidays arrive, those memories can feel especially close.
I also think about people whose circumstances have changed in other ways. Someone who is spending their first Christmas after a divorce may be grieving the traditions they once shared with their partner. Someone who has moved to another country may be missing the familiar sounds, food, and celebrations of home. Someone experiencing family conflict may be grieving relationships with people who are still alive.
Different circumstances, but sometimes very similar feelings of longing and loneliness.
And maybe that’s why I don’t think we should assume that everyone experiences the holidays as a joyful season.
For some people, it is. For others, it’s complicated. And for many of us, it can be both.
Can We Still Rejoice When Something Is Missing?
This is probably the question I’ve been sitting with the most.
How do you rejoice when the person who used to hug you, hold you, or sit beside you during those moments is no longer there? How do you enjoy a tradition when the circumstances that once made it meaningful have changed?
I’ve wrestled with that myself.
There have been times when I’ve had a wonderful evening with friends, laughed until my stomach hurt, and still gone home feeling sad because I wished someone else could have been there.
I’ve also experienced moments when I didn’t feel like celebrating at all, even though I knew the people around me were looking forward to the occasion.
And sometimes I’ve wondered whether enjoying myself meant I wasn’t honoring the people I missed.
I know that might sound strange to someone who hasn’t experienced it, but I think some of us have had those moments where happiness comes with a little guilt.
Almost as though we’re supposed to choose between missing someone and enjoying the life we’re still living.
But what if both feelings are there?
What if you can enjoy Christmas dinner and still miss the person who used to sit beside you? What if you can laugh with your friends and still wish your life looked different? What if you can create beautiful memories while carrying sadness about the memories you can no longer make?
I don’t think rejoicing has to mean pretending everything is okay.
Sometimes I think we put too much pressure on ourselves to make the holidays feel a certain way. We expect happiness, excitement, gratitude, and togetherness. But life doesn’t always give us the circumstances that make those feelings easy.
And I certainly don’t want to tell someone who’s struggling that they simply need to find something positive to focus on.
I know it isn’t that simple.
What I am beginning to appreciate is that a meaningful moment doesn’t have to remove my grief in order to matter.
I can enjoy something for what it is, even if part of me wishes things were different.
Preparing Myself for the Holidays
One of the reasons I’ve been thinking about all of this now, before the holidays fully arrive, is because I want to be more intentional about how I spend this season.
I’ve experienced enough holidays to know that preparing myself emotionally doesn’t mean I won’t have difficult moments.
I wish I could tell you that making plans, surrounding yourself with people, or creating new traditions will remove the emptiness you might feel when someone you love is no longer there.
It won’t necessarily do that.
But I’ve noticed that thinking about what I might need ahead of time can make a difference in how I approach those moments.
For me, one of those things is spending time in nature.
I’ve always loved being outdoors. My parents enjoyed nature too, and it’s something I’ve continued to appreciate throughout my life. Now that I live in California, I have opportunities to go camping, spend time in the mountains, or simply get away from the noise of everyday life.
There’s something about being outdoors that helps me slow down. I can sit somewhere peaceful, enjoy the surroundings, and not feel like I have to be doing something every minute.
But I’ve also become more aware of how easily spending time alone can turn into isolation for me during difficult seasons.
I enjoy my own company, but I also love being around people. I love conversations, laughter, cooking together, and creating memories.
So I’ve been thinking about how I can bring those things together this holiday season.
I have international friends who don’t always get the opportunity to travel home for the holidays. Some of us are far away from the people and places we grew up with, and I know that can bring its own kind of loneliness.
I’ve been thinking, why don’t we create something together?
Maybe we rent a cabin somewhere in the mountains. Maybe we go camping, cook together, spend time outdoors, and reconnect without all the pressure that sometimes comes with holiday celebrations.
Nothing extravagant. Just people coming together and enjoying each other’s company.
I like the idea of creating traditions that reflect the lives we’re living now, while still making room for the memories of the people and places we miss.
And I know that even if I make those plans, there may still be moments when I feel sad. I might remember something from years ago. I might need a quiet morning to myself. I might find myself missing someone while sitting around a fire with friends.
I’m trying to be okay with that possibility.
Because I don’t want to spend the holidays expecting myself to feel happy every minute just because I’ve planned something enjoyable.
What I’m Learning as the Holidays Approach
After years of experiencing the holidays in different countries, with different people, and under different circumstances, there are a few things I’m approaching differently.
One is being more honest with myself about what I actually want. I’ve attended gatherings because I felt obligated to go, and I’ve also spent time alone when what I really needed was connection. I’m trying to pay more attention to those differences rather than automatically doing what I’ve always done.
I’m also learning that I don’t need to recreate every tradition exactly as it used to be. Some traditions will always be meaningful to me, and I want to keep them. But I’m also allowed to create new ones with the people who are part of my life today.
And probably one of the biggest things I’m still working on is asking for connection when I need it.
I think sometimes loneliness becomes harder because we assume nobody will understand. We don’t want to burden anyone, explain ourselves, or make someone uncomfortable. So we keep everything to ourselves and hope the feeling eventually passes.
I’ve done that too.
But I’ve also experienced how meaningful it can be when someone simply shows up. They don’t have to know exactly what to say. Sometimes it’s enough to have someone to share a meal with, take a walk with, or sit beside without feeling like you have to explain everything.
I know not everyone has that kind of support readily available. Sometimes finding those connections takes time, and sometimes we have to look beyond our usual circles.
Still, I think it’s worth considering what connection might look like for us this season, even if it begins with something small.
What About You This Holiday Season?
As we approach the next couple of months, there’s something I’d love for us to think about together.
What do you want to do differently this holiday season to care for yourself?
Not what everyone expects you to do. Not what you’ve always done because it’s tradition. But what might actually help you through the moments when grief, loneliness, or difficult memories show up?
Maybe it’s spending more time with people who make you feel comfortable. Maybe it’s planning something outdoors, preparing a familiar meal, visiting a place you love, or creating a new tradition.
Maybe it’s deciding that you don’t want to attend every gathering you’re invited to.
Or maybe you’re still figuring out what you need, and that’s okay too.
For me, I’m thinking about nature, connection, and making memories with people who might also be spending the holidays away from home. I’m thinking about how I can remember the people I miss while still enjoying the people who are here.
I don’t know exactly what this holiday season will look like. I might have difficult days. I might change some of my plans. And I’m sure there will be moments that bring back memories I wasn’t expecting.
But I want to approach it with a little more intention.
Over the next couple of months, I want to continue having these conversations about grief, loneliness, traditions, and finding moments of joy when life doesn’t look the way it once did. Not because I have all the answers, but because I know how isolating it can feel when we think we’re the only ones struggling.
And maybe by sharing our experiences, we can remind one another that we’re not as alone in these feelings as we sometimes believe.
So I’ll leave you with one question:
Have you thought about what you might need this holiday season, not just to get through it, but to make room for something meaningful to you?
I’m thinking about that for myself too.
