Tinsel and Tears: When the Holidays Hurt
A tender guide for honoring your pain in a season that expects joy.
“Grief doesn’t wait for the right moment. It shows up in the middle of the laughter, in the middle of December, and asks to be felt anyway.”
The holidays are supposed to be full of joy. That’s what people say.
But what they don’t say enough is—joy isn’t always what shows up.
Grief doesn’t pause for parties or twinkling lights.
It doesn’t get quieter because the world is singing carols.
Sometimes, grief gets louder. Heavier. Sharper.
Whether you’ve lost a loved one, a version of yourself, a relationship, or a sense of safety—grief is still grief.
And it deserves tenderness, not silence.
Care, not shame.
Let’s talk about what it means to hold grief gently when everything around you is telling you to smile.
How Grief Hides Behind the Holidays
Grief doesn’t always look like tears or breakdowns.
During the holidays, it often wears a mask.
You might:
Host dinners and feel disconnected the whole time
Pass gifts around while feeling numb
Sit in rooms filled with people and still feel completely alone
Smile through stories that bring more ache than comfort
That’s grief too.
It doesn’t always cry loud.
Sometimes it just lingers—in your chest, in your throat, in the spaces where someone used to be.
You might find yourself snapping over small things.
Drained after short visits.
Irritated by people who seem untouched by sorrow.
That doesn’t make you bitter. That makes you human.
And your grief deserves room to be human, too.
Why Traditions Hit Different When You’re Grieving
Traditions are memory in motion.
They bring back the people, the moments, the pieces of your past that mattered.
So when someone is gone—or something sacred has been lost—those traditions stop feeling safe.
You might:
Avoid old songs or recipes because they bring too much emotion
Push through rituals just to keep other people from noticing your pain
Skip certain gatherings because the absence is too loud
You’re not wrong for that.
You’re not cold.
You’re not “ruining the holidays.”
You’re grieving.
And grief will always have something to say when memory walks in the room.
What If You’re Grieving Someone Who’s Still Alive?
Grief isn’t just about death.
You can grieve people who are still breathing.
You can grieve the version of someone you used to know.
The relationship you used to have.
The love that changed.
The connection that faded.
And around the holidays, when everything is focused on closeness, togetherness, and tradition—that kind of grief can hit just as hard.
Maybe you’re sitting across from someone who hurt you.
Or wishing you could call someone who’s emotionally out of reach.
Or trying to make peace with the distance that’s grown between you and someone who once felt like home.
That pain is real too.
You’re allowed to feel it.
How to Honor Grief Without Isolating Yourself
Grief doesn’t always mean solitude.
You don’t have to disappear to feel what you feel.
Here’s how you can let your grief breathe and still show up—on your terms:
✦ Step Outside When You Need To
You don’t need a reason or a big explanation.
Step out for air. Step away for quiet.
You’re allowed to protect your space without guilt.
✦ Make Space for Private Rituals
You don’t have to participate in every tradition.
Create one for yourself:
Light a candle in their name
Write a letter to someone you miss
Look through photos, cry, pray, or sit still
Say their name and let the ache be present without apology
✦ Let Someone Know You’re Struggling
You don’t have to tell everybody. But choose one person.
Someone who won’t rush you, fix you, or compare pain.
You can say:
“This season is heavy for me.”
“I miss someone.”
“It’s hard to feel present right now.”
“I just need someone to be near me while I feel this.”
✦ Let Grief and Joy Coexist
You don’t have to pick one.
You can laugh and still feel the ache.
You can love who’s around you and still miss who’s gone.
You can enjoy the food, the music, the moment—and still carry sorrow.
Grief doesn’t mean joy has to disappear.
And joy doesn’t mean your grief is gone.
You are allowed to feel everything.
What to Say When “I’m Fine” Isn’t the Truth
You don’t owe anyone your full story.
But you do deserve options that don’t bury your reality.
Try these:
“I’m getting through.”
“I’m doing my best.”
“This time of year is complicated for me.”
“I’m carrying a lot today.”
“Thanks for asking. That means something.”
If you want to share more, let it be with someone who knows how to hold your truth gently.
Someone who doesn’t try to fix it.
Someone who doesn’t say, “At least…”
Someone who can sit with your sorrow without rushing it away.
You Don’t Have to Fake Joy to Be Included
The pressure to perform joy is real.
Especially when family, faith spaces, or friends expect you to smile through what you haven’t even had time to process.
But the truth is:
You don’t have to match the room.
You don’t have to put on the mask.
You don’t have to be “okay” just to be welcome.
You belong—even in your grief.
Even in your quiet.
Even in your tears.
You don’t have to decorate your pain to make it digestible.
You don’t have to shrink your sorrow to make others more comfortable.
Grief is not a problem to solve.
It’s a wound that deserves care.
Grief Doesn’t Make You Weak—It Makes You Honest
We live in a world that rewards pretending.
But honesty, especially emotional honesty, takes courage.
To say:
“I’m hurting.”
“I miss them.”
“This is not an easy season for me.”
That’s not weakness.
That’s strength most people never learned how to carry.
Your pain doesn’t make you broken.
It makes you human.
You Are Still Allowed to Take Up Space
Even if you’re not festive.
Even if you don’t feel “in the spirit.”
Even if you can’t offer joy this year.
You still get to:
Be here
Be loved
Be real
The holidays can hold grief too.
They don’t have to be either/or.
They can be both/and.
“Let your grief take up space. Not because it’s pretty. Not because it’s easy. But because it’s yours—and it’s worthy of love too.”
