We handed the keyboard to an IOME team member this month; Dawn Miller. Dawn is a Licensed Professional Clinical Counselor who brings a grounded, compassionate presence to anyone navigating life’s beautiful (and sometimes bumpy) turns. She blends mental health, soul care, and a whole lot of heart to help individuals and couples move toward wholeness. So, take it away, Dawn!
Early in our marriage, my spouse and I were attending a Christmas Eve celebration. From a wingback chair on the stage, the pastor sang a traditional Christmas tune with his smooth baritone voice. The building was sparkling with lights and the anticipation of Christmas morning was palpable.
Then the question came–the question that altered the way I see the holiday season. “Who here is struggling with the holiday season?”
It was everyone. Everyone. Looking around I didn’t see anyone with their hands down other than my spouse and I. If a season that promotes peace, love, joy,, and fellowship causes the complete opposite, we are obviously not getting the message.
Let’s look at that.
Everywhere we look—commercials, social media, family gatherings—we’re told that this is the “most wonderful time of the year.” And yet, for many of us, the holiday season can also stir up feelings of stress, guilt, loneliness, or overwhelm.
Maybe you’re navigating family dynamics, financial strain, or the ache of missing someone. Maybe you’re trying to do it all—cook the meal, find the perfect gifts, attend every event—only to end up feeling exhausted and stretched too thin. In these moments, it’s easy to turn inward with criticism: I should be happier. I should be doing more. Everyone else seems to have it together.
But what if, instead of judging ourselves, we met those feelings with kindness? What if, this year, we let self-compassion be our guide through the holidays?
Psychologist and researcher Dr. Kristin Neff defines self-compassion as treating yourself with the same kindness and care you would offer a good friend. It’s not self-pity or self-indulgence—it’s a courageous way of relating to ourselves with warmth, understanding, and patience, even when things don’t go as planned.
Self-compassion has three main components:
Together, these three elements help us hold our hearts open, even when life feels hard—or when the holidays don’t look as “perfect” as we imagined.
There’s a cultural script for the holidays that tells us we’re supposed to be joyful, grateful, and surrounded by love. And real life is far more complicated. Family relationships can be tense. Money can be tight. Old grief can resurface when certain songs play or traditions roll around. Traditions can be burdensome.
When we compare our reality to an idealized image of the holidays, we can end up feeling like we’re falling short. The voice of self-judgment might say:
Self-compassion interrupts that cycle. It reminds us: It’s okay to feel this way. The holidays are complex. You’re doing your best. And that’s enough.
Before diving into the rush of holiday preparations, try taking a few mindful pauses throughout your day. These moments don’t have to be long or dramatic. Just one minute of conscious breathing can bring you back to yourself.
Here’s a simple self-compassion practice:
That’s it. Three steps, under a minute, but the impact can be profound. It helps you respond with care rather than criticism.
One of the most self-compassionate things you can do during the holidays is set boundaries—especially when your calendar, wallet, or emotional energy are running low.
You might say “no” to a gathering that feels draining, or decide that simple gifts are enough this year. You might choose to spend an evening resting instead of attending another event.
Boundaries are not selfish—they are acts of kindness toward yourself and others. When you honor your own limits, you show up more authentically and with a full heart.
Ask yourself:
When you listen to those answers, you begin to move through the holidays guided not by guilt or obligation, but by compassion and intention.
Part of self-compassion is remembering that imperfection connects us. The burnt cookies, the family arguments, the forgotten wrapping paper—all of these moments are part of the shared human experience.
When something goes wrong, try replacing frustration with gentle humor or grace. Instead of saying, I ruined Christmas dinner, you might smile and say, Well, the dog seems to love it.
This shift doesn’t ignore disappointment—it reframes it. It reminds us that life is messy and unpredictable, and that we can meet that messiness with warmth rather than shame.
Remember: the best stories come from what went wrong, not what went right.
It’s often easier to extend compassion outward—to family, friends, or strangers—than inward. True compassion flows both ways. When you treat yourself kindly, you expand your capacity to be kind to others. Can you truly be understanding of others if you don’t understand yourself?
During the holidays, when tensions run high or loved ones trigger old wounds, self-compassion helps you stay grounded. Before reacting, you might silently tell yourself, This is hard for both of us. That small acknowledgment softens defensiveness and opens space for empathy.
Compassion is contagious. When you model gentleness toward yourself, you give others permission to do the same.
More than anything else, the holidays are an invitation to be present. It’s not about doing or achieving; it’s about noticing—the sparkle of lights, the sound of laughter, the warmth of a shared meal, the quiet of a winter morning.
Self-compassion helps us savor these moments because it quiets the inner critic that says we’re not enough. When that voice calms, we can actually feel joy more deeply.
Presence is the true gift—not the wrapped packages, but the awareness that we are here, alive, and capable of giving and receiving love.
Be here now.
For some, the season brings a sharper sense of loneliness or grief. If that’s true for you, please know you’re not alone. Many people find the holidays emotionally difficult, especially when facing loss, separation, or change.
Self-compassion invites you to make room for your feelings, rather than trying to push them away. You might light a candle in honor of someone you miss, or spend time doing something that nourishes your spirit—a walk, journaling, or calling a supportive friend.
You deserve care and comfort, especially when things hurt. Let others have the gift of comforting you.
If you’d like something simple to return to, try this mantra:
You can repeat this silently while wrapping gifts, standing in line, or lying in bed at night. It’s a way to anchor yourself in kindness, no matter what’s happening around you.
Letting self-compassion guide your holiday doesn’t mean everything will be calm or easy. It means that, whatever arises—joy, sadness, frustration, or delight—you’ll meet it with understanding.
It’s the quiet courage to soften instead of harden, to breathe instead of brace, to offer yourself the same warmth you so readily give others.
So this season, as you hang lights imperfectly, set the table with paper plates, or simply take a moment to rest, remember: you are doing enough. You are enough. You were always enough.
May your holiday be guided by gentleness, grounded in presence, and illuminated by the light of compassion—starting with yourself.
If Dawn’s approach to self-compassion spoke to you, you’re warmly encouraged to book a free consultation and continue the conversation with her. Because remember, you deserve the best because your loved ones deserve the best of you, not what's left of you.
Dawn Miller, LPCC
(970) 235-1569
[email protected]
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