The Holidaze: Making Space for Your Nervous System During the Holiday Season
Somatic therapy, grief, family dynamics, chronic illness, and finding ways to feel grounded during a complicated season.
There is something about the holiday season that can make everything feel a little louder.
The expectations. The invitations. The family gatherings. The traditions. The pressure to feel grateful, joyful, connected, and present. The memories that seem to find their way back into the room, sometimes without being invited.
And for those living with chronic health conditions, there can be an entirely different layer of things to navigate. Managing symptoms, medication schedules, food sensitivities, mobility limitations, fatigue, unpredictable flares, and the emotional exhaustion of explaining why certain things simply aren't accessible.
For some, the holidays bring warmth, connection, and a sense of belonging. For others, they bring grief, loneliness, complicated family dynamics, financial stress, sensory overwhelm, or reminders of relationships that have caused harm.
And for many, it is a little bit of everything.
You might find yourself looking forward to certain traditions while simultaneously dreading the family gathering that comes with them. You might miss someone who is no longer here while wishing you could skip the memories that accompany the season. You might want connection but also desperately need space.
Welcome to the holidaze.
If the holiday season feels complicated for you, I want you to know that you aren't doing it wrong. Your experience doesn't have to fit into someone else's version of what this season is supposed to look like.
Sometimes, the most meaningful thing we can do is begin listening to what our nervous system is asking of us.
Why the Holidays Can Feel So Big: Understanding Your Nervous System
The holiday season can bring us into contact with a whole collection of experiences, both past and present.
Our nervous systems are constantly taking in information about our environment, relationships, and perceived safety. Certain smells, songs, traditions, places, conversations, and even the presence of particular people can activate memories and emotional responses that we may not consciously recognize right away.
You might notice yourself becoming more irritable, withdrawing, feeling unusually exhausted, experiencing increased anxiety, or finding it difficult to communicate your needs.
Perhaps you feel yourself slipping into familiar family roles. Maybe you become the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the one who doesn't make waves, or the person who feels responsible for everyone's emotional experience.
Sometimes, these responses are less about what is happening in the present moment and more about what our nervous system has learned to anticipate based on previous experiences.
For individuals with complex trauma (C-PTSD), childhood trauma, relational trauma, or chronic stress, the holidays can bring familiar survival responses closer to the surface.
This might look like:
Fight: Feeling irritable, defensive, easily overwhelmed, or experiencing an increased need to control your surroundings.
Flight: Staying busy, overcommitting, avoiding difficult conversations, or feeling an urge to escape.
Freeze: Feeling disconnected, shutting down, struggling to find words, or feeling unable to respond.
Fawn: People-pleasing, prioritizing everyone else's comfort, minimizing your needs, or feeling responsible for keeping the peace.
These responses aren't character flaws. They are protective adaptations that may have helped you navigate experiences when you didn't have the safety, resources, or autonomy you needed.
Your nervous system may be responding to something familiar, even when your circumstances have changed.
Rather than asking yourself, Why am I reacting this way?, perhaps we can begin with a gentler question:
What might my nervous system be trying to protect me from?
When Your Body Has Its Own Holiday To-Do List: Navigating Chronic Illness
For individuals living with chronic health conditions, the holidays can bring an additional layer of physical, emotional, and logistical demands.
While others might be thinking about what to bring to dinner, what to wear, or which gatherings to attend, you might also be calculating how much energy an outing will require, whether there will be somewhere comfortable to sit, what foods will be available, or whether your body will cooperate that day.
Living with conditions such as hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (hEDS), postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS), dysautonomia, mast cell activation syndrome (MCAS), fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, and other chronic illnesses can make navigating the holidays feel particularly unpredictable.
You might be managing:
Dysautonomia and POTS: Navigating changes in heart rate, dizziness, temperature regulation, blood pooling, fatigue, and the physical demands of standing for extended periods.
hEDS and hypermobility: Managing joint instability, chronic pain, muscle fatigue, positioning, and the physical demands of traveling, cooking, decorating, or sitting for long periods.
MCAS: Navigating food sensitivities, environmental triggers, fragrances, temperature changes, and the unpredictability of allergic-type reactions.
Fibromyalgia and chronic pain: Managing increased pain, sensory sensitivity, fatigue, and the potential physical consequences of overexertion.
Chronic fatigue and other complex conditions: Balancing limited energy resources with the desire to participate in meaningful experiences.
Sometimes, the hardest part isn't simply managing symptoms. It's navigating the expectations that come with them.
You might want to attend the gathering but know that doing so could mean needing additional recovery time afterward. You might want to help prepare the meal but recognize that standing in the kitchen for several hours isn't sustainable. You might have to cancel plans at the last minute because your body has different plans.
And there can be grief in that.
Grief for the things you wish you could participate in, the spontaneity you miss, the traditions that have become more complicated, and the version of yourself who didn't have to think so carefully about every physical demand.
There can also be frustration when others don't understand why something that seems simple to them requires so much consideration for you.
I want to gently remind you that your physical capacity is not a reflection of your willingness, love, gratitude, or desire to connect.
You can want to participate and still have limitations. You can love someone and still need accommodations. You can be excited about an event and still need to rest.
Your body isn't failing you because it has needs.
Food, Family Gatherings, and the Emotional Labor of Having a Body With Needs
Food is often at the center of holiday traditions.
Family recipes, shared meals, baking, holiday treats, and gathering around the dinner table can hold significant emotional and cultural meaning.
But for individuals navigating MCAS, gastrointestinal conditions, food intolerances, allergies, or other chronic health conditions, holiday meals can bring a different experience.
You might find yourself needing to bring your own food, ask about ingredients, avoid certain dishes, or navigate conversations about why you aren't eating something.
Sometimes, even explaining your dietary needs can become exhausting.
Comments such as "Just try a little," "One bite won't hurt," or "You used to eat that" can feel particularly invalidating when food choices are connected to managing symptoms and protecting your health.
You may also experience grief around foods you once enjoyed, traditions that no longer feel accessible, or the feeling of being different during experiences that are supposed to bring people together.
A few gentle reminders:
You do not owe anyone an explanation for what you choose or need to eat.
You are allowed to bring your own food without apologizing.
You can ask about ingredients and preparation without feeling like you are being difficult.
You can decline food that doesn't feel safe for your body.
You can create new traditions that accommodate your nutritional and medical needs.
For some, the emotional experience of food can be just as complicated as the physical one. There may be feelings of exclusion, frustration, embarrassment, or sadness when your body requires something different.
Rather than forcing yourself to participate in traditions that don't accommodate your needs, consider what it might look like to create a little more flexibility.
Maybe that means bringing a meal you know works for your body, creating a separate food tradition, or spending time with people who don't make your needs feel like an inconvenience.
You deserve to experience connection without having to compromise your physical well-being to participate.
The Invisible Labor of Managing Chronic Illness During the Holidays
There is often an incredible amount of invisible labor involved in living with chronic illness.
Planning ahead. Monitoring symptoms. Managing medications. Anticipating triggers. Communicating limitations. Making decisions about energy expenditure. Calculating whether an activity is worth the potential physical consequences.
And then there is the emotional labor of navigating other people's reactions.
You might find yourself minimizing symptoms so that others don't worry. You might feel pressure to prove that you're sick enough to need accommodations. You might feel guilty when your limitations affect other people's plans.
Sometimes, the pressure to appear okay becomes another thing your nervous system has to manage.
For individuals who have spent much of their lives navigating environments where their needs weren't acknowledged or accommodated, the holidays can bring familiar patterns of self-abandonment to the surface.
You might notice yourself saying yes when you mean no, pushing through pain, ignoring fatigue, or prioritizing everyone else's comfort.
This is an opportunity to gently explore a different question:
What would it look like to include myself in the plans I'm making?
Your needs aren't interruptions to the experience. They are part of the experience.
The Spectrum of Holiday Experiences: You Can Feel More Than One Thing
One of the things I often find important to explore in somatic trauma therapy is our capacity to hold multiple experiences without needing to choose one over another.
We can love our family and recognize that certain relationships have caused harm.
We can miss someone and feel relief that they are no longer part of our lives.
We can feel grateful for what we have and still grieve what we didn't receive.
We can want connection and need distance.
We can enjoy the holidays and find certain parts of them incredibly difficult.
We can want to participate in traditions while grieving the physical capacity we once had or wish we had.
There isn't a single correct way to experience this season.
Sometimes, we become so accustomed to organizing our experiences into categories of good or bad, grateful or ungrateful, loving or resentful, that we forget there is room for complexity.
You don't have to invalidate one experience to make room for another.
You are allowed to have a complicated relationship with the holidays.
When the Holidays Bring Up Grief
Grief doesn't always arrive in ways we expect.
Sometimes it shows up in the empty seat at the table, a familiar recipe, an old photograph, or a tradition that no longer feels the same.
Sometimes we grieve people who have passed away. Other times, we grieve relationships that have changed, childhood experiences we wish had been different, the family we hoped to have, or the version of ourselves who spent so much time trying to make things work.
For those living with chronic illness, there may also be grief connected to changes in physical capacity, identity, independence, and the unpredictability of living in a body with ongoing needs.
Perhaps you are grieving the parent who couldn't show up for you, the family relationships that never felt emotionally safe, or the experiences of belonging and connection that you spent much of your life longing for.
And sometimes, grief and relief exist alongside one another.
You may miss someone while knowing that distance is necessary. You may wish things were different without wanting to return to the relationship as it was.
Both can be true.
From a somatic perspective, grief isn't simply something we think about. It can be something we experience throughout the body.
You might notice:
Tightness in your chest or throat.
A heaviness in your limbs.
Changes in appetite or energy.
An urge to withdraw or seek comfort.
Feeling emotionally tender or easily overwhelmed.
A sense of disconnection or difficulty staying present.
Rather than rushing yourself through these experiences, consider what it might look like to make a little room for them.
You don't have to process all of your grief during the holidays. You don't have to make meaning of it, find the silver lining, or turn it into a lesson.
Sometimes, allowing yourself to acknowledge what hurts is enough for today.
Navigating Family Members Who Have Caused Harm
For some people, the holidays mean returning to environments where they learned to silence themselves, minimize their needs, or prioritize other people's emotions over their own.
Being around family members who have caused harm can bring up complicated nervous system responses, even when you have done significant healing.
You might notice yourself becoming younger in your responses, feeling less confident, struggling to maintain boundaries, or automatically falling into familiar relational patterns.
Perhaps you find yourself rehearsing conversations before they happen, anticipating someone's reaction, or feeling responsible for preventing conflict.
These experiences can be especially challenging when family members expect things to return to normal without acknowledging the impact of previous harm.
It is important to remember that healing doesn't require you to repeatedly place yourself in situations that feel unsafe.
You are allowed to make decisions that honor your emotional and physical well-being.
This might mean:
Limiting the amount of time you spend at family gatherings.
Creating your own transportation plan so you can leave when needed.
Deciding ahead of time which topics you are comfortable discussing.
Taking breaks when conversations become emotionally overwhelming.
Choosing not to attend certain gatherings.
Spending the holidays with people who feel emotionally safe.
Allowing yourself to change your mind, even if you initially agreed to attend.
Boundaries aren't punishments. They are ways of recognizing where your capacity ends and where your responsibility for yourself begins.
And perhaps most importantly, you don't have to convince someone else that your boundaries are reasonable for them to be valid.
Somatic Practices for Navigating the Holidaze
Somatic therapy offers an opportunity to become more aware of what is happening within our bodies and nervous systems, rather than relying exclusively on thinking our way through difficult experiences.
The goal isn't to make every uncomfortable feeling disappear or force ourselves into a state of calm.
Instead, we can begin developing a relationship with our bodies that allows us to notice, respond, and make choices with greater awareness.
Here are a few gentle practices to experiment with throughout the holiday season.
1. Notice What Your Body Is Communicating
Before attending a gathering, entering a difficult conversation, or responding to an invitation, take a moment to check in with yourself.
Notice:
What sensations are present in your body?
Is there tension, heaviness, restlessness, or ease?
Do you notice an urge to move toward something or away from something?
What might you need right now?
You don't need to interpret every sensation or find an immediate solution.
Sometimes, simply noticing is the beginning of reconnecting with yourself.
2. Create Small Moments of Regulation
We often imagine nervous system regulation as something that requires an hour of meditation, a quiet room, or an elaborate self-care routine.
But regulation can happen in small moments.
You might:
Step outside and notice the temperature against your skin.
Feel your feet making contact with the floor.
Hold a warm mug and notice its temperature.
Listen to a song that feels comforting.
Find a quieter room when the environment becomes overwhelming.
Gently look around and notice a few things that remind you that you are here, in the present.
These small moments can offer opportunities to reconnect with the present environment and notice what feels supportive.
And remember, you don't have to force deep breathing, close your eyes, or engage in any practice that feels uncomfortable in your body. You get to find what works for you.
3. Practice Checking In With Your Capacity
One of the most important questions we can ask ourselves during the holidays is:
Do I actually have the capacity for this right now?
Not whether you should attend. Not whether someone will be disappointed. Not whether you can push through.
But whether you have the emotional, physical, and sensory resources available for the experience.
Capacity can fluctuate, particularly for individuals navigating chronic illness, chronic pain, neurodivergence, trauma, or nervous system dysregulation.
You might have the emotional capacity for a gathering but not the physical energy to attend. You might want connection but need a shorter visit. You might have the capacity to see certain family members but not others.
Sustainability doesn't mean having no needs, no boundaries, or no limitations.
It means creating a way of living that makes room for all of those things.
4. Give Yourself Permission to Have an Exit Plan
Sometimes, knowing you have the option to leave can make an experience feel more manageable.
Consider identifying what you might need if you begin feeling overwhelmed.
Perhaps you arrange your own transportation, communicate a departure time ahead of the gathering, or identify someone you can reach out to for support.
You might also create a small comfort kit with familiar sensory items, headphones, medication or other personal necessities, and something comforting.
Having options can support a greater sense of autonomy.
You are allowed to leave before you reach your breaking point.
5. Plan for Your Body, Not Just the Event
Consider what might make a gathering more physically accessible and sustainable.
You might:
Arrange seating that accommodates your joints and pain levels.
Bring mobility aids or supportive equipment without feeling the need to explain.
Identify opportunities to sit, recline, or take breaks.
Plan around your medication and symptom-management routines.
Bring familiar foods and beverages that accommodate your needs.
Consider fragrance sensitivities and other environmental triggers.
Allow additional recovery time before and after gatherings.
Create a backup plan in case symptoms change unexpectedly.
Your body doesn't need to meet someone else's expectations for how much you should be able to do.
And you don't have to earn rest by reaching the point of complete exhaustion.
6. Create New Traditions That Feel Like Yours
Sometimes, healing involves recognizing that we don't have to continue participating in traditions simply because they have always existed.
You get to create something different.
Maybe that means spending the morning slowly, having dinner with chosen family, watching your favorite movie, creating a new ritual to honor someone you've lost, or doing absolutely nothing.
Perhaps your holiday traditions need to become more flexible to accommodate fluctuating energy, mobility, dietary needs, or sensory preferences.
You might discover that the holidays feel different when you begin making choices based on what feels meaningful to you rather than what is expected of you.
You are allowed to build traditions that reflect the life you are creating now.
You Don't Have to Return to Who You Were to Spend Time With Your Family
Something worth remembering: you are not the same person you were when some of these relational patterns first developed.
You may have spent years learning to anticipate other people's emotions, minimize your needs, or disconnect from your own experiences to maintain relationships.
And now, perhaps you are learning something different.
You are learning that your needs matter.
That you can take up space.
That you can say no.
That you can experience connection without abandoning yourself.
That you can love people while maintaining boundaries.
That you can choose relationships where emotional safety, mutuality, and respect are possible.
That your body deserves accommodation, not criticism.
And that you don't have to earn belonging by making yourself smaller or pushing yourself beyond your physical capacity.
This kind of change can feel unfamiliar. Sometimes, even the idea of doing things differently can bring up resistance, uncertainty, or discomfort.
That's okay, too.
We don't have to rush ourselves into new ways of being. We can begin with small experiences that allow our nervous systems to discover that there may be other ways to navigate relationships, connection, and safety.
A Gentle Reminder for the Holidaze
If this season feels complicated, I hope you can offer yourself a little extra gentleness.
You don't have to attend every gathering. You don't have to reconcile with anyone. You don't have to explain your boundaries, perform happiness, or make yourself available beyond your capacity.
You don't have to turn grief into gratitude or discomfort into a positive experience.
You don't have to push through pain, ignore your symptoms, or sacrifice your physical well-being to participate in traditions.
You can be happy and sad. Connected and overwhelmed. Hopeful and uncertain. You can want to participate and still need accommodations. You can love your people and need space from them.
You can make room for all of it.
Perhaps this season isn't about getting everything right. Perhaps it's about finding little ways to come home to yourself, honoring what your body needs, and allowing yourself to experience the holidays in a way that feels a little more sustainable.
And if the holidays bring up more than you know how to hold on your own, you don't have to navigate those experiences alone.
At Root and Embody, PLLC, we believe healing can happen through gentle curiosity, compassion, and reconnecting with the wisdom of your body. Somatic trauma therapy offers a space to explore the ways past experiences continue to shape present-day relationships, nervous system responses, and our relationship with ourselves.
You deserve a season that makes room for you, too.
You don't have to abandon yourself to belong.
Interested in exploring somatic therapy?
Root and Embody, PLLC offers somatic, trauma-informed therapy for individuals navigating complex trauma, relational wounds, neurodivergence, chronic illness, chronic pain, and the ways these experiences shape our relationships with ourselves and others.
If you're interested in learning more about working together, you're welcome to reach out to schedule a complimentary 20-minute consultation.
