The holiday season is a complicated time. On the one hand, it’s marketed as a magical period of joy, togetherness, and indulgence. On the other, it’s a pressure cooker of expectations, traditions, and consumerism. Hot Take: You don’t have to participate in holidays just because your family or society tells you to.
Take Christmas, for example. I’m not religious, so why should I celebrate a religious holiday? Oh, because society has co-opted it as an excuse for a two-week break from the grind? Fine, I’ll take the vacation time. But beyond that? I have some serious bones to pick with how we do Christmas.
Call me Scrooge or the Grinch if you want, but I despise much of what Christmas has become. The consumerism is relentless: new decorations every year, must-have gadgets, and obligatory gifts for people you barely know or see. How many of us have bought that generic sweater from TJ Maxx for a distant cousin we wouldn’t even recognize outside of the holiday gathering? Why? Because “they’re family.” We’ve reduced gifting to a shallow exchange of junk or cash, stressing ourselves out in the name of tradition.
But guess what? You don’t have to do it. You don’t have to spend November 1st to January 1st performing like a monkey for societal norms or familial expectations. This year, I did something scary: I opted out. I told my family that the way “we’ve always done it” isn’t working for me anymore.
No more four houses in two days. No more meaningless gifts. No more small talk that makes me wish I were sedated. Instead, I chose a quiet holiday filled with things that actually bring me joy: board games, naps, sleeping in, and skipping the makeup and new outfits. It was easy. It was glorious. It was everything the holidays should be—for me. But let me be clear: I’m not saying this way of spending the holidays is the blueprint for everyone. Some people genuinely love the gifts, the extravagance, and the holiday deals. That’s great! The point is, you should spend the holidays in a way that brings you joy, whatever that looks like.
The truth is, holidays aren’t always merry or bright. For some, it’s the first holiday without a loved one. For others, it’s a season of financial stress, loneliness, or strained relationships. While some households have towering piles of gifts under the tree, others are scraping together a holiday meal with Dollar Tree ingredients. And those “haul videos” and Instagram-perfect posts of excessive consumerism? They feel like a slap in the face to the families where Santa could only bring socks this year.
Amid personal challenges, there’s also a sobering global reality: celebrating extravagantly during times of crises—like genocides and humanitarian catastrophes—can feel deeply out of touch. While some of us unwrap gifts and share photos of lavish feasts, others face displacement, starvation, and violence. The world doesn’t pause for the holidays, and ignoring this reality only deepens the harm.
If you choose to celebrate, consider doing so in a way that acknowledges the suffering of others. Small, thoughtful actions can make a difference: donate before receiving gifts, invite coworkers or friends without a strong support system to join your celebration, or support small businesses with ethical missions. Celebrating with empathy not only brings meaning to the season but also fosters solidarity in a world that needs it.
So before you post about your holiday, ask yourself: Why am I sharing this? Is it out of genuine gratitude, or is it feeding into the cycle of comparison and greed? Be mindful of what and why you’re sharing.
If you’ve replaced old items with shiny new ones, donate the things you no longer need. Use your voice and platform to advocate for kindness, simplicity, and mindfulness this holiday season. Better yet, consider directing some of your holiday energy toward causes that help those in need—donating to organizations on the ground in crisis zones or raising awareness about the atrocities happening in the world. Holidays should be about humanity, not just happiness.
Holidays can be hard. If you’ve spent years enduring politically charged arguments or religious lectures from relatives, let me remind you: You don’t have to. You are allowed to redefine what the holidays mean for you.
The holidays should be about what feels right to you. Maybe that’s celebrating quietly, maybe it’s skipping the celebrations altogether. Whatever you choose, know this: You are loved. You are not alone. And you have the power to break free from traditions that don’t serve you.
Here’s to a season of doing what’s best for you—and remembering those who need our compassion most.
Personal Sentiment: This post doesn’t mean I hate or despise my family—far from it. I am incredibly lucky to see my family often, and we stay in touch almost daily. Because of this, the charm of seeing each other during the holidays doesn’t feel much different from our usual get-togethers—except, during the holidays, it often comes with added stress and unnecessary strife.
My favorite parts of Christmas are the traditions that truly bring us joy. For example, my mom and I always go to see a drag Christmas show, or, more recently, attend the Miss America pageant—a new tradition. We’ve also started new traditions, like playing bingo or poker with buy-ins instead of a white elephant game filled with junk no one needs or wants. I love my family, I love my friends, and I love celebrating them. To me, though, the holidays are about celebrating experiences together and finding ways to help others—not about meeting societal expectations or sticking to traditions that no longer resonate.
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