Holiday Survival Guide for the Brokenhearted

Jeffrey Simmons June 9, 2026 0 comment

Holidays are supposed to be “the most wonderful time of the year.”

For a lot of us, they’re the loudest reminder of who isn’t here anymore.

The empty chair.
The stocking that doesn’t get hung.
The traditions that suddenly feel like someone pressed mute on the joy.

If you’re walking into a holiday season after losing someone you love—especially if you didn’t get to say goodbye—I wish I could sit across from you at the kitchen table, pour a cup of coffee, and say this to your face:

You are not weak or broken because this is hard.
It’s hard because they mattered.

Since I can’t be there in person, here’s the next best thing: a practical, honest survival guide.

Step 1: Give yourself permission to not be “okay”

You don’t owe anyone a performance.

You’re allowed to:

Say no to parties and gatherings
Leave early if it gets overwhelming
Cry in the middle of dinner
Laugh at a joke without feeling guilty afterward

Most of the pressure you’re feeling comes from expectations—yours, other people’s, or the Hallmark version of the holidays running in your head.

This year, your only real job is to get through it in one piece, not to make sure everyone else is comfortable with your grief.

Step 2: Decide what you’re saying YES and NO to

Grab a piece of paper and draw two columns.

On one side, write YES.
On the other, write NO.

Under YES, list the things you can allow this year:

One small gathering with people who “get it”
One tradition you still want to keep
One way you’d like to remember them

Under NO, list what you’re not doing:

No pretending nothing happened
No forcing yourself to go to four events in one day
No shaming yourself for not being “festive”

You are allowed to set limits. Grief burns a lot of emotional energy. You don’t have the same battery life right now as you did before the loss. That’s not weakness; it’s reality.

Step 3: Create a simple ritual to honor them

A lot of the pain during the holidays comes from trying to act like the person who’s missing doesn’t exist.

You don’t need to erase them to survive this season. In fact, it often helps to actively remember them in a gentle, intentional way.

Here are a few ideas:

Light a candle in their honor during dinner and speak their name
Cook their favorite dish and tell a memory about them
Hang an ornament that represents them on the tree
Write them a letter on Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve and keep it in a special place

Rituals don’t bring them back—but they make the love visible. And sometimes that makes the ache a tiny bit softer.

Step 4: Have an escape hatch

Before you go to any gathering, pick your exit plan.

Tell one safe person ahead of time:

“If I say I need to leave, I need you to back me up—no questions, no guilt trips.”

Drive separately if you can. Keep it simple:

“I’m glad I came, but I’ve hit my limit. I’m going to head out.”

You don’t have to justify or explain your grief to anyone who isn’t willing to understand.

Step 5: Prepare for the ambush moments

The ambush moments are the ones you don’t see coming:

A commercial
A song in the store
A smell that takes you straight back to them

You’re walking along, holding it together, and suddenly you’re fighting off tears in the middle of Walmart.

Instead of beating yourself up, try this:

Pause. Put your hand on your chest if you can.
Breathe slowly in and out a few times.
Say quietly (or in your head):

“This hurts because I loved them. It’s okay for this to hurt.”

If you need to step outside, sit in your car, or duck into the bathroom for a minute, do it. You’re not a failure for getting blindsided by grief. You’re a human who loved somebody.