When the Holidays Feel Blue
Not every December feels merry and bright, no matter what the world expects. If you’ve ever wished for a quieter, more honest space during the holidays, you’re not alone.
For me, the year-end holidays are often a difficult time. This is the time of year when I feel the loss of loved ones who aren’t here, and the absence of family who live far away, more deeply. Sadness often comes in waves, on its own timing, sometimes catching me off guard and bringing me to my knees. The tears come whether I want them to or not. The sparkle of holiday lights dims, and that easy, bubbling joy I felt as a child feels just out of reach.
Growing up, the holidays were busy and lively, with a large extended family, amazing food, and big personalities all crammed into small spaces. I loved going — and it could be a lot. These days our celebrations are quieter and simpler. They’re still treasured, but different — and I find myself holding joy and ache as one.
This year I came across a Blue Holiday service, a space for anyone feeling sad during the holidays. I felt drawn to go — hoping it might help to pause and simply be with what I’m feeling, in the company of others.
As I sat among strangers, each of us there for our own reasons yet connected by an unspoken thread, a deep sense of peace and acceptance filled the space and washed over me. Tears fell quietly. My sadness didn’t disappear, but it softened. It settled into a different type of peace — one that allowed me to hold it more gently, and to sense that hope, however faint it may sometimes feel, was still present.
I walked back out into the evening, my emotions still with me, warmed by that quiet feeling of hope. Even now, several days later, that peace remains. My smile comes more easily. It’s as if being allowed to feel fully in the presence of others — without explanation or apology — made more room for the small embers of joy and hope to glow again.
Whether it’s the holidays or just any day, I hope you can find moments or a place where you can express what you’re feeling. Quiet moments. Shared moments. Honest moments. They may not take the sadness away, but they can make room for comfort, connection, and a gentle sense of hope.