Carrying Christmas: the quiet weight so many women hold

There’s something about this time of year that stirs a mix of emotions. On the surface, Christmas looks like connection, celebration, lights and rituals. But beneath the surface, many women quietly begin to tense their shoulders and feel the heaviness this time of year brings. Not because they dislike Christmas, but because they know what’s coming and how much of it will land on them. And it’s rarely the big, dramatic tasks. It’s the thinking, the lists, the remembering, and the planning. The emotional labour of holding it all together so everyone else can have a “magical” time.

We don’t often name it, but this mental load is real. And it is hard.

For many women, Christmas becomes a project. Who’s buying for whom? What needs to be baked, wrapped, and organised? How do we manage family dynamics? How do we keep traditions alive while juggling work, caring responsibilities, and the sheer exhaustion of everyday life?

None of these tasks seems huge on their own. But together, they accumulate, quietly and persistently. Because so much of this work is invisible, it can feel lonely and isolating. Sometimes, even resentful-making.

I’ve chatted with friends and clients who tell me they feel guilty even naming it, like they should be able to keep going without feeling the personal toll.

How can we soften the load? Here are a few personal reflections that might help (and I will be trying hard this year to take my own advice):

1. Start by acknowledging what you actually carry.
Not just the physical tasks, but the thinking: remembering what each child likes, navigating family expectations, recalling food preferences, managing budgets, coordinating travel, baking for the annual school bake sale, planning memory-making Christmas activities, the list goes on. Often, just naming the load is the first moment of relief.

2. Let go of the pressure to create a perfect Christmas.
So much of this season is shaped by expectation, often unspoken, often inherited. But perhaps “good enough” might just be kinder. Maybe this year, think about a simpler table, fewer commitments, smaller plans. None of these diminish the heart of the season.

3. Share the load, even if it feels uncomfortable.
Delegating can feel strange if you’ve spent years being the one who holds it all. Partners, older children, siblings, friends… most people are willing to help when asked ( my advice is to be clear and direct). The challenge is often internal: letting go of how things “should” be done and trusting that help counts even when it looks different from your version.

4. Keep a small piece of Christmas for yourself.
Ask yourself the simple question, What do I need to do for myself this Christmas? It might be a slow morning, a quiet walk, a hot cuppa and a chapter of your book, saying no to a tradition that no longer fits, or carving out an evening just for yourself. Your needs matter as much as anyone else’s, even if you’ve been taught to put them last.

5. Allow mixed feelings to exist.
You can love Christmas and still find it draining. You can enjoy giving and still feel stretched. You can value family and still need boundaries. You’re allowed to want connection and also crave space. There is room for all of this. Wanting it doesn’t make you ungrateful or unkind; it makes you human.

6. Remember what really holds the season together.
It’s not the matching pyjamas, the perfect meal, or the beautifully curated day. It’s the small moments of closeness; the laughter, the shared stories, the quiet pause after everyone’s gone home. Often, the moments that mean the most are the ones that happen in the margins, the cup of tea after the chaos, a laugh across a messy kitchen, the small rituals that stay with us long after the decorations come down.

I hope these help!

If Christmas feels heavy this year, you’re not on your own, and you’re not being dramatic. You’re simply noticing the weight you’ve been carrying for a long time.

Maybe this year, it’s time to loosen your grip on the things that drain you and hold a little more tightly to what brings you home to yourself. Give it a go, I know I will!