Navigating Christmas: How to be Present
´Tis the Season…
For many people, the festive season, whether celebrated with Santa and a tree or religiously, it is less a season of rest and more a return to anxious emotional muscle memory. Going back to the family home can quietly pull us into old roles, habits and dynamics. The body remembers and can begin acting out, sometimes without the mind being connected to why. How did the same family fight break out again? Where did these headaches come from? Why am I always unwell Christmas Eve?
From a sensory-motor perspective, memories and emotions are not stored only as stories we can tell, but as sensations held in the body. Familiar smells, fabrics, furniture, and even the way we move around a childhood home can activate responses we thought we’d long outgrown. Suddenly, we may feel small, reactive, anxious or overwhelmed — not because we’re failing at Christmas, but because our nervous system is responding to something deeply familiar.
The pressure of the “perfect” Christmas
Layered on top of this is the cultural and commercial expectation of the perfect Christmas: the perfect home, decorations, meals, family harmony. Expectations, however, are often resentments waiting to happen. When reality inevitably fails to meet an imagined ideal, disappointment and tension can quickly follow.
This can be compounded by guilt — the sense that if we feel irritable, resentful, or simply want some space, we’re somehow being a Scrooge or a Grinch. Yet discomfort with large gatherings, forced cheer, or constant socialising does not make someone cold-hearted. For many, it is a natural response to overstimulation, exhaustion, or unmet needs.
When Christmas overwhelms the nervous system
For some people — particularly those who are neurodivergent — Christmas can feel actively overwhelming. The music, flashing lights, crowded rooms, disrupted routines and heightened social demands can affect day-to-day regulation and wellbeing. What may feel festive to one person can feel physically and emotionally distressing to another.
If you are spending time with children or adults who are neurodivergent, small adjustments can make a difference: quieter spaces, predictable routines, reduced sensory input, clear expectations, and permission to step away without judgment. Feeling safe and welcome matters far more than participating in every tradition.
Old patterns, familiar worries
For some families, anxiety is heightened by concerns around relatives with mental health difficulties or addictions. Old patterns of enabling, hypervigilance or emotional caretaking can resurface, leaving everyone depleted. It’s also worth being mindful of those who are choosing not to drink, or who are focusing on their health. Alcohol-free options and a culture of choice — rather than pressure — help create a more inclusive environment for all.
This may be the first season without a loved one, the loss of a relationship, or the quiet sadness of a family not gathering in the way it did in the past. In these moments, rather than attempt to override pain with forced cheer or shutting it out entirely, meet it with honesty and care. Sitting with the feelings of sadness, anger, and longing is an act of resilience and trueness to oneself. Speak a loved one’s name and share memories with others. Grief needs witnesses. At the same time, creating new rituals with those who are still here, however small, offers the nervous system reassurance that connection continues.
Letting go of rigid rules
If Christmas cooking is a reliable source of stress, it’s worth asking who the tradition is really serving. Pre-prepared food is allowed. Making one dish everyone enjoys is enough. Turkey and stuffing are not prerequisites for love or belonging.
If abroad, be mindful in sending care packages, cards or even a thoughtful email to loved ones. If staying in a challenging environment, take breaks during the day for walks to call friends or just listen to a happy podcast. Shake off the nervous energy first thing with a run, brisk walk or cold swim plunge.
The same applies to gift-giving. If buying presents creates anxiety, don’t carry it alone. Ask for wish lists, agree spending limits, or suggest alternative ways of marking the season. When an inner voice insists on how Christmas should be done, it can be helpful to ask: Says who? Who is this for? Does this bring joy and goodwill?
A personal tradition
Each year, as both a therapist and a reader, I read Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. It reconnects me with a renewed belief in goodwill and humanity, a reminder that the act of giving so often feels more nourishing than receiving. Scrooge’s awakening speaks to something deeply therapeutic: the realisation that it is never too late to change, to soften, or to let go of old grudges and self-protective fears that need not follow us into the new year like Jacob Marley’s chains. I still find myself moved by not only Tiny Tim, but the Ghost of Christmas Past showing Scrooge his child self, living in neglect and abuse, whose story mirrors the reality of so many children for whom Christmas holds little joy.
A person living in their pain body is likely to have suffered early wounding, causing inner fragmentation and living from a state of crisis. While that awareness can feel overwhelming, it also invites action: there is often a family or child nearby who needs support, and countless charities ready to help channel that care. For our own inner children, therapy can be a gift to these wounded parts, releasing us from our own early chains. Like Scrooge on Christmas morning, grateful simply to be alive, we can create our own Christmas spirit through a friend’s gathering, volunteering at a food bank, or supporting causes that matter to us.
The heart of the season
The festivity's origins are in the story from which Christmas takes its name: the birth of Christ. Yet the detail that endures in cribs large and small is not one of wealth or grandeur. This child, believed by Christians to be the son of God, was born not to royalty but to a carpenter and a young woman fleeing persecution, turned away from every inn and finally offered shelter in a stable.
Whether taken as gospel or myth, the story carries a powerful psychological truth: that new life, possibility and meaning can emerge in the most modest and precarious of circumstances. Research consistently shows that it is not riches that foster security and wellbeing in children, but homes shaped by love, calm, encouragement and presence. In that sense, a family’s attention and care at Christmas is, quite simply, the greatest present of all.
Another helpful metaphor for this time of year is a familiar one: the past is history, tomorrow is a mystery, and today is a present. However it’s wrapped, there are gifts to be found in the now — in moments and compassion for ourselves and one another.
Wishing you a festive season of peace and goodwill toward all.
