The holidays have this weird way of turning the volume up on everything. If you’re happy, it feels brighter. If you’re lonely, it feels louder. If you’re grieving, it feels like the whole world is decorating around a hole you can’t ignore. And even if nothing “bad” is happening, there’s still this pressure to be cheerful on schedule… like joy has a due date. I’ve been carrying heavy thoughts through the lights and the music. Smiling in conversations while my brain quietly runs a second tab in the background: old memories, missed people, stuff I thought I was over, stuff I haven’t even named yet. It’s like my body shows up for the holidays, but my mind keeps slipping out the side door. And honestly? That doesn’t make me broken. It makes me human. Sometimes the most holiday-spirited thing you can do is stop pretending you’re fine and just get real, even if it’s only with yourself. No dramatic speeches. No perfect “healing moment.” Just a small, honest check-in: * I’m doing my best. * I’m not okay *right now*, but I’m still here. * I don’t have to make this season look like a movie to make it count. If you’re reading this and you’re also carrying something heavy, I get it. You don’t have to “earn” rest by being productive. You don’t have to be the fun version of yourself for everyone else. You’re allowed to take breaks. You’re allowed to leave early. You’re allowed to protect your peace. You’re allowed to feel complicated things while the world plays jingles over them. And if your only win today is getting out of bed, drinking water, answering one text, or simply not giving up… that’s not nothing. That’s survival. That’s strength in a quiet outfit. The holidays don’t magically fix people. They just put a spotlight on what’s already there. So if your thoughts are heavy, let them be heavy — without turning them into a life sentence. One day at a time. One breath at a time. And if you can’t do “merry,” do “real.” Do “soft.” Do “I’m still trying.” That counts.