Have you ever stepped into the Christmas season and quietly wondered why everyone else seems joyful while you’re holding back tears? I know that feeling well. I’ve walked into Decembers where the decorations went up, the music started playing, and the world felt wrapped in celebration, yet something inside me felt tender, heavy, or even painfully broken. I’ve faced Christmases while grieving someone I desperately missed. Maybe you’re missing someone as well–or maybe you’re navigating relationships that shifted in ways you never expected. Maybe finances are tight, or you’re realizing that life looks nothing like what you imagined it would this year.

If any of this resonates with you, I want to tell you something I’ve had to learn through my own seasons of grief: you are not alone, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with you for feeling this way.

Christmas has a way of shining a brighter light on whatever is already in our hearts. In my own hard seasons, I noticed how the holidays seemed to quietly magnify pain I thought I had tucked away. A familiar song, a certain smell, a cherished tradition; these small things would remind me of what had changed, who was missing, and what still felt so fragile. Instead of feeling festive, I sometimes felt exposed. But feeling this way doesn’t make you ungrateful or broken, it simply means your heart is asking to be cared for.

Your Heart Has a Right to Be Heard

I want you to hear this clearly: your emotions matter. You don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to push down your grief or force yourself into cheerfulness because it’s “supposed to be” a joyful time. Pain doesn’t pause for the holidays, and you don’t need to apologize for carrying what you carry.

It is okay to say, “This is hard.”
It is okay to feel sad, even when the world around you is celebrating.
It is okay to take things slowly, gently, and in your own time.

Your heart deserves tenderness, not pressure.

The Christmas Story Was Born in Darkness

Sometimes we forget that the first Christmas didn’t happen under perfect circumstances. It unfolded in a world that was tired, burdened, and longing for something more. People were desperate for relief, for peace, for a promise that God still saw them in their uncertainty and fear.

Hope didn’t wait for calm or clarity. It didn’t arrive after everything was fixed or “better”. Hope showed up right in the middle of the mess…quietly, humbly, and beautifully.

And that same truth holds steady today. The hope of Christmas isn’t only reserved for those who feel joyful or “put together.” It is a gift meant especially for those who are hurting, tired, or holding on by a thread; a reminder that even in our deepest sorrow, we are loved.

Grief and Hope Can Sit Together

One of the most comforting truths of this season is that grief and hope do not have to be enemies. We don’t have to choose one over the other. We can hold on to both.

We can miss someone with every part of you and still feel moments of peace.
We can cry in the morning and feel a gentle flicker of hope by evening.
We can feel the ache of what’s gone and still be open to what’s ahead.

Our heart is capable of standing in both places at once, and that is a testament to our strength, not our weakness.

Simple Ways to Care for Yourself Right Now

As you move through this Christmas season, I want to share a few gentle ways I’ve learned to show myself kindness during times of pain:

1. Give yourself permission to feel what you feel.
Your emotions are not an inconvenience; they are a meaningful part of your story. When you take a few quiet minutes to breathe, reflect, or pray, you’re not being dramatic or self-indulgent—you’re allowing your heart the space it truly needs to heal. Sometimes we move so quickly through the demands of life that we don’t notice how much we’re holding inside. Slowing down, even briefly, can create room for clarity and release. Whether it’s a quiet drive, a warm shower, or allowing yourself a moment to cry before bed, give yourself permission to pause. Name what you’re feeling without shame. Acknowledging your emotions doesn’t make them bigger, it helps them feel lighter. Often, that simple recognition brings a sense of relief you didn’t realize you needed.

2. Honor what you’re grieving.
Grief is a sign of deep love and creating small rituals to honor that love can be incredibly healing. You might light a candle for someone you miss, allowing its glow to symbolize the lasting impact they’ve had on your life. Maybe you take a moment to look at a picture, remembering a shared story or a what they meant to you. Writing a note, even if no one else reads it, can help voice emotions that feel too heavy to speak loudly. These acts don’t magically erase the pain; instead, they affirm that what you lost mattered, and that the relationship, dream, or season you’re grieving still holds a meaningful place in your heart. This kind of honoring can be both tender and strengthening.

3. Adjust expectations to protect your peace.
You do not have to navigate this season the way you always have. Grief changes your energy, your capacity, and sometimes even your needs. It’s okay to tell yourself, “This year may look different and that’s okay.” You’re allowed to scale back on traditions, decline invitations, or ask others for understanding. Protecting your peace is not selfish; it’s wise stewardship of your emotional and spiritual well-being. When you choose what feels manageable instead of what feels expected, you give yourself room to breathe. You give your heart space to heal at its own pace. And you create a gentler, more compassionate environment for yourself during a season that can otherwise feel overwhelming.

4. Let trusted people in.
Grief can make us feel isolated, but it’s often softened when shared with even one safe person. You don’t need a large crowd, just someone who understands. This might be a close friend, a family member, or someone who simply listens without offering quick fixes or clichés. Sometimes all we need is a person who says, “I’m here. I see the weight you’re carrying.” Letting someone in doesn’t mean you have to pour out every detail; it might just mean allowing someone to sit with you while you cry, check in on you, pray with you, or be present in the silence. We were never meant to carry heavy seasons alone. Receiving support is a sign of strength, not weakness.

5. Notice small moments of hope.
Hope rarely arrives with wrapped in tinsel. More often, it enters your life quietly like a warm conversation that soothes your heart, a soft song that speaks to your soul, or a message from someone who felt prompted to reach out at just the right time. Maybe it’s a moment of laughter you didn’t expect, or a peaceful evening where, just for a bit, your soul feels a bit of relief. These little moments matter. They are reminders that even in seasons of grief, you can still experience goodness. Hope doesn’t erase your pain, but it helps you remember that light is still present, even if it’s faint. Paying attention to these small, gentle moments can slowly nurture strength and strength from within.

You Are Seen. You Are Loved. You Are Not Alone.

Wherever you find yourself this Christmas, steady or shaken, hopeful or heartbroken, I want you to know that this season still has room for you. The message of Christmas is not that everything must be joyful, but that hope arrives even when life feels uncertain.

My prayer and hope for you this season is that you feel held, comforted, and gently strengthened. That you sense moments of peace in unexpected places. And that, even in the heaviness, you’re able to feel hope quietly stirring within you again.

If you need someone to talk with, someone to pray with, or simply someone to walk alongside you as you navigate this time, CityLight Counseling is here for you. You don’t have to carry it all on your own.

For more on grief, check out this article by one of our clinicians, Sandy Michael.