🧡I Did This to Myself. Kind Of.

No one in my family ever asked me to be the Holiday CEO. No one demanded themed gift wrap or vintage-style napkin rings. No one ever said, “Please host every holiday like you’re auditioning for Southern Living.”

I wanted to do it. I made the atmosphere. I planned the details. I created the magic. Because there was a time when gathering everyone — the whole messy, beautiful crew — brought me more joy than exhaustion.

But life shifted. People changed. Some ties stretched too far, and some simply snapped. And now, I’m staring at a holiday season that looks nothing like the ones I used to build my traditions around.

And honestly? I’m grieving.

I’m grieving the version of family I once had — even if it was complicated. Grieving the idea that things might one day return to “how they were.” And learning to stop holding my breath for healing that may not come anytime soon.

🤎The Spiral Isn’t Just the To-Do List

The anxiety this time of year? It’s not just about baking too much or decorating too early. It’s the ache of pretending things feel “normal” when they don’t. It’s functioning well enough to host dinner… but crying while unloading groceries. It’s smiling through traditions that feel lonelier now — because someone is missing, or someone feels emotionally out of reach.

But tucked into the grief, there’s still love. There’s still my tribe — the ones who choose me daily, who sit beside me in whatever version of Thanksgiving we can create now, and who love me through every version of myself (yes, even the crazy one).

And I’m learning not to take that love for granted. Because while I may be mourning what’s been fractured, I’m still surrounded by something sacred — even if it looks different now.

✝️Scripture for the Spiraling Soul:

“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.” — Isaiah 26:3

God didn’t ask me to keep all the people together. He didn’t assign me the role of peacekeeper. He asked me to trust Him. To let go. To let Him hold what I can’t fix.

Even if I built the machine. Even if I miss how things used to be. Even if I’m still figuring out how to show up in a holiday that feels both tender and tense.

🙏A Prayer for the Worn-Out Holiday Heart

“Lord, help me release the pressure I created.
Comfort the parts of me still grieving what used to be.
Let me honor the love that’s present, even if some love has faded.
Show me how to rest, even as I serve.
And let this season be one of peace — not performance.”

💛Reminder to Self

You can hold grief and gratitude.
You can miss people and love the ones beside you.
You can wish things were different and still make the most of what is.

You are allowed to evolve.
You’re allowed to spiral less, smile more honestly, and show up differently.
You’re allowed to mourn and still make magic — but not at the cost of your mental health.

And even if you’re the one who built the holiday blueprint…you get to revise it. With grace. With boundaries. With the people who truly love you.

Healing in Layers,

Natalie
(& Samuel, who reminds me daily that family can be chosen — and fluffy 🐾)