I full-on sobbed in my car about the holidays this week.
But not for the reason you might think.
I wasn’t crying because I was dreading them. I wasn’t crying because I felt alone or left out or stuck.
I was crying because I’m so grateful and excited for how we’re celebrating this year.
If you had told me five years ago that I would be crying happy tears about the holidays, I would have laughed in your face.
Because five years ago, I was The Grinch.
Not in a cute, quirky way. In a “genuinely dreading every moment of the holiday season” way.
In a “having panic attacks on the way to family celebrations” way.
Let me tell you about the panic attack that changed everything.
The Panic Attack That Was My Breaking Point
I was in the passenger seat. Michael was driving. We were on our way to my extended family’s holiday celebration.
And I couldn’t breathe.
I had to recline the seat all the way back. I was taking these deep, shaky breaths, trying to calm myself down.
Just trying to get through the drive. Just trying to make it there without completely falling apart.
This wasn’t a one-time thing. This was every year. Every holiday season.
I would spend the entire month of December (sometimes longer) just trying to get to December 26th.
My husband Michael used to call me The Grinch. And he wasn’t wrong.
I hated the holidays. Genuinely hated them.
And I didn’t even fully realize how much until I started doing the deep therapy work to figure out why.
Why I Was The Grinch (The Backstory)
I’m going to keep this brief because this isn’t meant to be a therapy session.
But you need to understand where I was starting from.
I grew up in a pretty dysfunctional household. Lots of substance abuse. I’m the eldest daughter, and my siblings are 8.5 and 10 years younger than me.
My mom passed away when I was 13.
So I fell into this role where I became the “magic maker” for my family.
I was the kid cooking the traditional recipes. Helping with stockings. Wrapping presents. Creating the holiday experience.
When I should have been experiencing the magic myself.
And as I got older? I just kept doing it.
In my 20s, I continued the pattern of prioritizing everyone else’s holiday experience. Making the magic for others. Never stopping to ask: What do I actually want?
I was so focused on what I “should” do that I never considered what would feel good.
And every year, I would leave family holiday celebrations completely shut down. Exhausted. Depleted.
That panic attack on the way there? That was my breaking point.
The Two Options We Think We Have
Here’s what I think happens for a lot of people around the holidays:
We assume everyone has somewhere to go.
Everyone has family they’re excited to see. Everyone has traditions they love. Everyone has this warm, cozy holiday experience.
And if we don’t have that? We think something’s wrong with us.
The mainstream conversation about holidays basically presents two options:
Option 1: Family holidays. You go home. You see your extended family. You do the traditional thing.
Option 2: Spend the holidays alone. And there’s a whole subset of content about this: how to romanticize spending holidays alone, how to make it special, how to not hate it.
And I think some people genuinely prefer spending holidays alone. If that’s you, I love that for you.
But I also watch a lot of those videos and think: If there was a third option that was more normalized, would you take it?
Because I think a lot of people are choosing “alone” not because they want to, but because they think those are their only two options.
Push through the family holiday that doesn’t feel good. Or spend it alone.
But there’s a third option nobody talks about.
The Third Option: Holidays With Friends
After that panic attack, I had to get really honest with myself.
This isn’t working. I dread this every year. I need something different.
So I did some soul searching. What would actually feel good to me?
I considered the “spend holidays alone” option. And for me, that wasn’t it.
What I wanted was togetherness. Connection with people I love.
I wanted to split the burden of “magic making.” I’m happy to contribute, but it can’t all fall on me.
I wanted to be around people where I could relax. Where my nervous system could settle. Where I didn’t have to perform.
I didn’t need perfection. I didn’t need it to look like a Hallmark movie.
I just wanted to spend the day surrounded by people I love, having fun, everyone walking away thinking: Wow, it was so good to be together.
And the people who made me feel that way? My friends.
The 2020 Catalyst (My First Good Christmas)
I had started therapy. I had started doing this soul-searching.
And then 2020 happened.
We were in lockdown. Christmas 2020 was the first Christmas I ever had that felt good to me.
We spent it with our closest friends.
Just us and one other couple. People we were “podded up” with, seeing regularly.
We didn’t even exchange gifts. We just… created a day we wanted.
Christmas Eve, we made my friend’s traditional family recipe. Something they do every year. It was fun to learn about their tradition and be part of it.
Christmas Day, we went all out on cooking. We constructed this ridiculous menu. Michael created a full cocktail menu with fresh-squeezed juices and options for different parts of the day.
(Yes, it was 2020, and we had plenty of time. But still.)
We watched movies. We made cinnamon rolls that are now a tradition with their kids.
We just… enjoyed being together.
And I remember thinking: Oh. It’s not the holiday. It’s how I’m spending the holiday.
That realization changed everything.
The Five-Year Journey (Because This Doesn’t Happen Overnight)
Here’s what I need you to understand:
It’s been almost five years since that first good Christmas.
Five years of slowly transitioning. Five years of having uncomfortable conversations. Five years of planting seeds and being vulnerable.
This didn’t happen overnight. And we need to normalize that timeline.
So let me walk you through what those five years actually looked like.
In the full episode, I share the complete five-year timeline in even more detail, including the conversations that terrified me and the moments that made me cry happy tears. If you’ve been dreading the holidays and wondering if things could ever be different, this story will show you they can.
Years 1-2: Planting Seeds (Being Honest in Small Ways)
After that, in 2021, I opened up in small ways.
I would tell friends things like:
“Something I really want to work on in the next few years is finding holidays that feel good to me.”
That’s it. Not even expanding on it. Just… putting it out there.
Or if the situation felt right, I’d expand:
“I’ve never really enjoyed holidays. I generally dread them. I’ve been thinking about what would actually feel good, and honestly, I just want to be surrounded by people I love. And a lot of those people are friends.”
Not directing it at that specific friend. Just being honest.
Or I’d plant more specific seeds:
“I would love to host an open house on Christmas Eve someday. Just a chill movie day, maybe some cookie decorating for kids and adults. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Just… dreaming out loud.
Years 2-3: Testing the Waters (The “What If?” Conversations)
This is where I started getting a little more direct. But still keeping it light and no-pressure.
I would say things like:
“What if we spent Christmas together someday? I think it would be so fun to spend Christmas with you and your family. Like, what would we even do?”
Notice: I’m not asking them to commit to anything.
I’m genuinely curious. I’m envisioning possibilities. I’m opening a door.
And sometimes, they would have ideas I hadn’t thought of.
“Oh my gosh, that would be so fun! We could do this or that or—”
And suddenly, they’re envisioning it too.
They’re realizing: Oh, there are more options than I thought.
Even if it never happens, I’ve expanded what they think is possible.
Years 3-4: Getting More Direct (Asking What People Are Actually Doing)
This is where I started asking more directly about people’s actual plans.
“What are you doing for the holidays?”
And I’d listen. Really listen.
Because here’s what I discovered: Not everyone is booked solid.
Some people see family on the 21st and 23rd but are home on the 25th.
Some people do a big thing with extended family two weeks before Christmas and have nothing on the actual day.
I had assumed everyone had these packed, unavoidable family obligations.
But that’s not always true. You don’t know unless you ask.
Year 5: The Direct Ask (And Letting Go)
This year (this past October), I had a conversation with some friends.
Friends with kids. Friends who live nearby. Friends I assumed would definitely be busy with family.
We were hanging out, and I just said:
“Hey, I’m not sure what you’re doing for Christmas. Please don’t feel like you need to answer this. But we would love to spend some part of the holidays with you. I think it would be so fun. I think we’d all enjoy it.”
“I know you need to talk to your partner. I know you need to figure out your plans. But if you’re around, we currently don’t have plans, and we would love to spend it with you.”
I said that in October.
And then I let it go.
I really did. I didn’t expect an answer. Not that week, not that month, maybe not for years.
Because here’s what I realized: The success isn’t them saying yes.
The success is me being vulnerable enough to ask. To let them know I trust them enough, love them enough, feel comfortable enough around them to want to spend holidays together.
That’s the win. Whether they ever say yes or not.
The December Response (Why I Cried in My Car)
Fast forward to the second week of December.
We’re hanging out with these friends again. And out of nowhere, she says:
“Hey, remember when you mentioned spending Christmas together? What are you doing?”
I told her we had family stuff the weekend before, but we were open on the 24th and 25th.
“Do you want to spend Christmas Day together?”
When I tell you I had fully let this go…
I really thought they’d be busy. I thought maybe someday, but not this year.
And now? We’re spending Christmas Day together.
That’s why I cried in my car.
Not just because of the actual day. Though I’m so excited for that.
But because my assumption was completely wrong.
I had convinced myself they wouldn’t be available. That they’d have family obligations. That it wouldn’t work.
And I was wrong.
And I’m so grateful I took the risk to ask anyway.
I go much deeper into the emotional side of this journey in the complete episode, including what it felt like to finally have a Christmas that didn’t make me want to hide. If you’re someone who puts on a brave face during the holidays while secretly struggling, listen here.
The Exact Words You Can Use
I know how scary these conversations feel.
So let me give you the actual phrases I used. The ones that worked.
For Planting Seeds:
“I’m working on finding holidays that feel good to me.”
“I’ve never really enjoyed holidays the way I think I’m supposed to. I’m trying to figure out what would actually feel good.”
“I just want chill, comfortable holidays surrounded by people I love.”
For Dreaming Out Loud:
“Wouldn’t it be fun if we spent [holiday] together someday?”
“I would love to host a low-key [holiday] gathering. Just movies and cookies and hanging out.”
“What would we even do if we spent [holiday] together? Like, what would that look like?”
For Getting More Direct:
“What are you doing for the holidays this year?”
(Listen to their answer. Look for gaps. See where there might be space.)
“We would love to spend part of the holidays with you. No pressure at all. I know you need to figure out your plans. But if you’re around and want to, we’d really enjoy that.”
For Following Up:
“Hey, remember when we talked about maybe spending [holiday] together? I just wanted you to know the offer still stands. Totally no pressure, but we’d love to if it works out.”
The key in all of these: No pressure. Genuine curiosity. Let them know you’d love it, but don’t demand an answer.
Why This Takes Time (And Why That’s Okay)
Here’s something crucial I need you to understand:
It’s not just you who has to envision something different.
Your friend does too.
They have their own expectations. Their own “shoulds.” Their own assumptions about what holidays are supposed to look like.
For two people (or two families) to start celebrating holidays together, both of you have to step outside those expectations.
Both of you have to consider: What would actually feel good?
And that takes time.
It took me five years. It might take you less. It might take you more.
But the timeline doesn’t matter. What matters is that you start.
The Vulnerability Required (From Both Sides)
Can I tell you what I’m actually most grateful for?
Not just that we’re spending Christmas Day together. But my friend was willing to be vulnerable, too.
After she said yes, we started talking about what the day would actually look like.
And she was so honest:
“As a mom with two young kids, I want this day to be pajamas and playing with toys. I don’t want to cook anything elaborate. I want to be present with my kids.”
She’s basically opting out of the big hosting piece.
And that created space for both of us to just… say what we actually want.
No performance. No pressure. Just: here’s what would feel good to me.
That vulnerability (from both of us) is what’s going to make this day amazing.
And I’m so grateful she was willing to do that.
What This Year Actually Looks Like
So here’s what our holidays look like this year:
Weekend before Christmas: Seeing family. And while we’re out of town, we’re going to try to see two friends who live in that area. Spending the day with one, having dinner with another.
Christmas Eve: Hoping to do something with some friends we’ve spent past holidays with. (We should probably firm that up.)
Christmas Day: Spending it with the friends I told you about. The ones who said yes in December.
Plus: There are a few other friends floating out there that we might meet up with. TBD.
It’s a mix. Family and friends. Structure and spontaneity. Plans and possibilities.
And I’m so, so excited about all of it.
The Other Friends (The Open Invites)
Here’s something else wild:
We have friends who’ve told us, “What year are you flying here to spend Christmas with us?”
We have multiple friends like this. Multiple places we could go.
Open invites. Standing offers. People who’ve made it clear: you’re welcome here.
And I would be thrilled (absolutely thrilled) to spend holidays with any of them.
Because I put it out there.
I planted the seeds. I had the vulnerable conversations. I asked the scary questions.
And now I have options. Real options. Places I could go that would feel good.
Five years ago, I had none of that.
If You’re Dreading the Holidays Right Now
If you’re reading this and you’re dreading the holidays…
You’re not alone.
I know it feels like everyone else has somewhere to go. Like everyone else has this warm, cozy holiday experience waiting for them.
But that’s not true.
There are so many people out there who dread this time of year. Who are just trying to get through it. Who are spending it alone, not by choice, but because they think those are their only options.
You’re not alone. And you’re not stuck.
You can start dreaming up something different.
And sometimes, all it takes is one brave conversation.
Where to Start
If you want your holidays to look different (whether that’s this year or next year or five years from now), here’s where to start:
Step 1: Get Honest With Yourself
What would actually feel good to you?
Not what you think you’re supposed to want. What do YOU want?
Do you want to be alone? (Genuinely: some people do, and that’s beautiful.)
Do you want to be with family? (Even if it’s hard, is it still what you want?)
Or do you want something else entirely?
Get clear on that first.
Step 2: Start Planting Seeds
You don’t have to make a big ask right away.
Just start being honest in small ways:
“I’m working on finding holidays that feel good to me.”
“I’ve been thinking about what I actually want from the holidays.”
“Wouldn’t it be fun if we spent [holiday] together someday?”
Just… put it out there. See what happens.
Step 3: Ask What People Are Doing
You might be surprised by the gaps in people’s schedules.
“What are you doing for the holidays this year?”
Listen. Really listen.
You might find space where you didn’t expect it.
Step 4: Make the Direct Ask (When You’re Ready)
When you’re ready – and only when you’re ready – make the ask:
“We would love to spend part of the holidays with you. No pressure at all. But if you’re around and it works out, we’d really enjoy that.”
And then let it go.
Remember: The success is asking. Not the answer.
Step 5: Be Patient
This might not happen this year. Or next year.
But if you keep planting seeds, keep being honest, keep being vulnerable…
Eventually, something will shift.
Maybe not in the way you expected. But something will change.
What I Want You to Know
Five years ago, I was having panic attacks on the way to family holidays.
This year, I’m crying happy tears about spending Christmas Day with friends.
That transformation didn’t happen overnight. It took five years of uncomfortable conversations. Five years of vulnerability. Five years of dreaming about something different.
But it was worth it.
Every awkward conversation. Every vulnerable moment. Every time I put myself out there not knowing if anything would come of it.
Worth it.
Because now I have holidays I’m actually excited about.
And you can too.
You just have to start.
One small conversation. One honest moment. One brave ask.
That’s all it takes to start creating holidays that feel good.
Already celebrating holidays with friends? Share ideas below in the comments for others who stumble upon this post.
Want to send this to a friend but not sure how to start the conversation? Send it and say: “This made me think about how we spend holidays. Would you ever want to do something together?” That’s it. That’s the seed.
Tune into the full episode to hear it all, from the panic attack to the happy tears, and get the exact words you can use to start building the holidays you actually want.
