The Paradox of Christmas
As a highly sensitive person, this time of year feels heavier for me.
I feel it all spiraling around me, the joy, the grief, the longing, the magic.
In the same breath, I feel the deep happiness of being in this beautiful new home, and the strange sadness that still lingers, even here.
Joy and grief can coexist.
Someone asked me recently if they could, and my answer was yes, absolutely.
Christmastime is one of the clearest reminders of this truth.
It’s a paradox, a season where everything feels heightened, and opposites seem to swirl together.
There’s so much pressure and expectation this time of year.
Resentment and burnout creep in, but so does magic and excitement, the kind of magic that many women work tirelessly to create for their families.
Think about the parents breaking their backs to make everything feel effortless for their kids, gladly giving their all. Parenting seems to be unconditional love wrapped in quiet exhaustion. My observation as a non-child-having gal.
Christmas carries memories of love and connection but also of loss.
It holds the warmth of family gatherings alongside the ache of missing loved ones who’ve drifted away, passed on, or simply aren’t there anymore.
For divorced families, it can be a battlefield of schedules and compromises.
For kids, there’s the weight of trying to make everyone happy…even though it’s not their job. Showing THEY are happy. Making sure everyone is okay.
Even in the joy, there’s a sadness, a heartbreak in the sense that it’s never quite enough.
The day arrives, then slips away, leaving a bittersweet longing as it looms in the rearview mirror.
This season is full of contrasts.
The birth of Jesus and the arguments over what Christmas means. Pagan traditions, solstice celebrations, and everyone staking a claim to its meaning.
The first Christmas for some couples and the last for others.
And yet, there’s beauty in this paradox. There’s hope for the year ahead, the chance to reflect on what didn’t feel good this year and to shape it into something better next time.
There’s the quiet permission to let what you don’t like guide you toward what you do want.
This is humanness.
The tears and the laughter.
The weight and the wonder.
The joy and the grief.
And it’s not just the holidays, it’s life.
Growth feels like pride and mourning at once.
Moving brings the thrill of a fresh start but the ache of what was left behind.
Healing is freedom and the awareness of your scars.
What are the paradoxes in your life? The things that make you laugh and cry at the same time?
