Come sit with me, dear.
I know. I know the holidays can be hard. They're supposed to be merry and bright, and sometimes you just feel... tired. Or sad. Or like you're carrying something heavy that no one else can see.
That's okay. You don't have to pretend here.
Let me tell you something I've learned after all these years: Christmas isn't about being happy. It's about being held. And right now, consider yourself held.
— Mrs. Claus
Words for your heart
If you're feeling lonely
Loneliness at Christmas has a particular ache to it, doesn't it? Everyone else seems to be surrounded by people, and here you are. But listen to me — being alone doesn't mean you're unloved. It means your people might be far away, or not yet found, or perhaps in memory now. But you are not forgotten. I see you. And tonight, if no one else does, know that there's a cottage at the North Pole with a light on for you.
If you're missing someone
Oh, sweetheart. Grief doesn't take holidays, does it? It sits right there at the empty chair, in the missing voice, in the gift you can't give anymore. I won't tell you it gets easier — you know better than that. But I will tell you that love doesn't end. It changes shape. And somewhere, somehow, they know you're thinking of them. Light a candle for them tonight. Tell them what you'd say if you could. They're listening, I think. They always are.
If you're overwhelmed
The lists, the expectations, the shoulds — they pile up, don't they? Everyone needs something, everything costs money, and you're supposed to make magic happen while running on empty. Here's a secret: you don't have to do it all. You don't have to do any of it, really. Christmas won't be ruined if you skip the cards, buy the cookies instead of baking them, or stay home instead of going to that party. What matters is you. Your peace. Everything else is optional.
If you're struggling with family
Family is complicated. Blood doesn't automatically mean love, and history doesn't automatically mean peace. If your family gatherings feel more like survival than celebration, that's not your fault. You're allowed to set boundaries. You're allowed to leave early. You're allowed to not go at all. Your mental health is more important than anyone's expectations. And if your family isn't safe, your family can be the people you choose. Santa and I chose each other, you know. Best decision we ever made.
If you're far from home
Home is wherever you feel safe and known. Sometimes that's a place, sometimes it's a person, sometimes it's just a memory you carry with you. If you can't be where you want to be this Christmas, I'm sorry. That distance — whether it's miles or circumstances — it hurts. But you can make this place home too, even just for today. Light a candle. Make something warm to drink. Call someone who knows you. Home isn't just where you are. It's who you are. And you've carried that with you all along.
If you just need permission
Then here it is: Permission granted. To rest. To say no. To cry. To eat cookies for dinner. To skip the traditions that drain you. To stay in your pajamas all day. To not be okay. To ask for help. To let go of perfect. You have permission to just get through this season however you need to. There are no Christmas police. There's just you, doing your best, and that's always, always enough.