There’s the Christmas you imagined.
And then there’s the Christmas you’re actually living.

The first Christmas I imagined after I had Callie had it all–soft and golden: matching pajamas, a peaceful baby, a calm schedule, sparkling traditions, twinkling lights, a house that smells like cinnamon, nutmeg and self-control because I was determined to be back to my pre-baby weight Instead, we had just gotten out of a 3 month stay in the NICU, our baby had been diagnosed with not one but two life-altering conditions, and I was a zombie. Pre-pregnancy weight goals? Forget about them.

The real versions of our Christmas?

Well… the real version is usually a little louder. A little messier. A little more emotional. It’s imperfect schedules, unexpected meltdowns, sensory overload, family dynamics, grief that shows up uninvited, gifts that you forgot to buy, and you—somehow—trying to hold it all together.

And here’s the truth we often forget:

Both versions are okay.
And neither one means you’re failing.

So let’s talk about how to release the Christmas you pictured, and embrace the one unfolding right in front of you.

Release the “perfect holiday,” especially if your life doesn’t match the storyline

Maybe you have a disabled child.
Maybe you’re going through perimenopause.
Maybe your family dynamic is complicated.
Maybe someone you love isn’t here this year.
Maybe you’re exhausted, stretched thin, or emotionally overloaded.

Life shifts. Seasons change. Traditions evolve.

Yet we still hold ourselves to a picture-perfect holiday that was designed for a version of us that no longer exists.

There is no award for pretending everything is magical.
But there is deep peace in telling the truth about what you need.

Let your Christmas look like your family.

Some families spend Christmas morning baking cinnamon rolls from scratch.
Some spend it at the ER. Or in our case, the NICU.

Some spend it watching movies.
Some spend it navigating sensory needs, mobility limitations, medical care, or complex emotions.

Your Christmas doesn’t have to look like what you see online to be meaningful.

If your traditions need to be adapted, simplified, shortened, or reinvented—do it.
Autonomy is a Christmas gift too.

Name what feels hard, so you can stop carrying it alone

Holidays amplify everything:

Stress
Grief
Family tension
Burnout
Expectations
Emotional labor

Before Christmas arrives, pause and ask yourself:

“What am I pretending isn’t heavy?”
“What am I trying to hold by myself?”

Say it out loud. Journal it. Text a friend. Tell your partner.
Naming the weight is how you start to put it down.

Choose presence over performance

You don’t need the perfect tree, matching plates, or meticulously timed gifts for the day to be meaningful.

The real magic is found in:

One deep breath after a stressful moment
Watching your child laugh
A cozy blanket and a quiet minute
A bite of your favorite dessert
A conversation that feels like a hug
A small moment of connection

When you stop performing “holiday perfection,” you finally get to experience holiday peace.

Read: How to Keep Your Sanity (and Your Sparkle) During the Holiday Hustle

Give yourself permission to do less (even if everyone else expects more)

You are allowed to:

Say no
Cancel plans
Buy simpler gifts
Skip traditions
Order takeout
Set boundaries with family
Create a slower, softer holiday

You don’t owe anyone the highest-energy version of you.

Protect your nervous system like it’s sacred—because it is.

Make space for the real feelings that show up

Christmas can be beautiful and painful.
Comforting and stressful.
Joyful and heavy.

And you don’t have to choose just one.

Let yourself feel what you feel.
Let the season be imperfect.
Let the day unfold gently.
Let the magic be small, quiet, and human.

You don’t need a flawless holiday.
You just need a grounded one.

Remember: the “imperfect” Christmas is usually the one we remember most

Ask anyone about their favorite holiday memory and they’ll almost always tell a story that was messy, funny, chaotic, unexpected, or simple. Our first Christmas with Callie was beautiful in it’s own way–she was home and she was safe with us. She looked adorable in her little red onsie and everyone was fighting to hold her. It was magical.

Perfection doesn’t create meaning.
Presence does.
Connection does.
Honesty does.

You are doing enough.
Your Christmas is enough.
And the version you’re living is allowed to be beautiful—exactly as it is.

Sending you love and light,

Jaime