It’s been a while since I’ve shared Christmas in the traditional sense with my family. The kind that revolves crowded living rooms, stacks of wrapped gifts, and the unspoken pressure to make everything look and feel a certain way. Somewhere along the years, buying gifts stopped feeling like the center of the season for me. Not because I don’t care, but because it no longer feels like the most meaningful expression of care.
As you get older, things shift. Your perspective changes. Your children grow, inching closer to adulthood, forming their own opinions and traditions. Life becomes less about spectacle and more about sustainability; emotionally, mentally, financially. And in the midst of ongoing economic uncertainty, rising costs, and collective burnout, it becomes hard to ignore how much of the holiday season has been shaped by consumerism and capitalism rather than genuine connection.
So many holidays now feel like obligations instead of opportunities. Buy more. Do more. Spend more. Perform joy. Perform gratitude. Perform togetherness. And if you can’t, or don’t, there’s an unspoken implication that you’re somehow missing the point.
But I’ve come to believe the opposite.
I think many of us have fallen asleep on the so-called “reason for the season.” and even that phrase, once rooted in shared belief systems, has become subjective. What Christmas represents now depends on how you ask. For some, it’s religious. for others, it’s cultural. For many, it’s nostalgic. and for a growing number of people, it’s complicated, tied up in grief, distance, financial strain, or simply the exhaustion of surviving year after year.
That doesn’t mean the season is meaningless. It just means it’s evolving.
For me, Christmas has become quieter. More intentional. Less about what’s exchanged and more about what’s extended. I no longer feel compelled to participate in excess for the sake of tradition. Instead, I ask myself what feels honest in the season of my life.
Sometimes that looks like spending time with family or friends when I’m physically near the. Other times, it means checking in from afar, holding space for conversations that don’t revolve around holiday cheer but around real life. and often, it’s about being mindful of those who feel particularly lonely during this time of year, because the holidays have a way of amplifying whatever we’re already carrying.
I make it a point to create warmth where I can. To make people feel welcomed. To open my home, my table, or simply my attention. Not because it’s expected, but because it matters.
Gift-giving hasn’t disappeared from the life, it’s jus transformed. I find more meaning in practical gifts now. Things that are useful, thoughtful, or supportive. not flashy. Not performative. Just intentional. And sometimes, the gift isn’t something wrapped at all.
Sometimes, it’s cooking a large meal for forty people and spending fifteen hours straight in the kitchen. Not because it’s easy, but because there’s something grounding about feeding people. About creating a space where others can sit, exhale, and feel cared for, even if only for a few hours.
There’s a quiet kind of joy in that. One that doesn’t need to be documented or validated.
I’ve learned that Christmas doesn’t have to look loud to be meaningful. It doesn’t have to follow a script to be sacred. and it certainly doesn’t have to be expensive to be generous.
In this season of my life, I’m more interested in presence than presentation. In authenticity over obligation. In honoring where I am instead of forcing myself into where I think I should be.
I also recognize that for many people, Christmas is hard. It an highlight absence. It can reopen wounds. It can remind us of what’s changed or what’s been lost. That’s why I believe it’s important to broaden our understanding of what it meals to “celebrate.” Sometimes, simply surviving the year deserves acknowledgment.
So if your holiday looks different this year; if it’s quieter, simpler, or even uncertain, I want to say this: is still counts. You’re not behind. You’re not failing at the season. You’re responding honestly to your life.
For me, Christmas has become less about tradition and more about intention. Less about what’s under the tree and more about who feels seen. Less about accumulation and more about alignment.
And who the world continues to push consumption as the measure of celebration, I’ll continue choosing meaning in my own way.
Because even in its quietest form, the season can still be special; when it’s rooted in care, presence, and humanity.
Related topics:
- McKinsey & Company – An update on US consumer sentiment: Pragmatism defines the holidays
- eMarketer – Consumers look to cut holiday spending as living costs rise
- LinkedIn – Holiday spending imperiled by gloomy consumer climate
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