When Christmas doesn’t look quite how you’d hoped

Christmas looks lovely on paper, doesn’t it? Pretty lights, music, cosy photographs, everyone gathered around a beautifully laid table.

But real life doesn’t always look quite like that.

There are presents to buy, food to organise, people to see, arrangements to make and a remarkable number of little things that somebody has to remember.

And when you’re already dealing with illness, or supporting someone who is, all of that comes on top of everything else.

You might be exhausted before December even begins. Perhaps your health makes it difficult to plan ahead, or you’re trying to work out what a partner or family member will be well enough to manage.

Maybe Christmas used to be something you looked forward to, but this year you’re not quite sure how it’s going to work.

It can be hard when the season you’re supposed to enjoy becomes another thing to manage.

So here are a few thoughts about making Christmas a little less demanding, and hopefully finding some enjoyment in it too.

Let go of the Christmas performance

Somehow, Christmas has become an enormous production.

The decorations, the presents, the food, the cards, the family arrangements. And, of course, the expectation that everyone should be having a wonderful time.

It’s a lot to live up to.

But does everything really need to happen?

Will anybody genuinely mind if you don’t make six different vegetables? Could some presents be simpler? Does every tradition need to be repeated just because you’ve always done it?

Your family will survive slightly wonky wrapping paper and imperfect roast potatoes.

And you might enjoy Christmas more if you’re not completely worn out by the time it arrives.

When your plans depend on how somebody feels

One of the difficulties of living with ongoing illness is that you can’t always predict what you’ll be able to manage.

You may accept an invitation weeks in advance, then find that going out simply isn’t possible on the day.

Or perhaps you’re caring for someone whose symptoms fluctuate, and every arrangement needs a contingency plan.

That can be frustrating for everyone involved.

Sometimes it helps to make the uncertainty part of the plan from the beginning.

Let people know that you hope to come but may need to change your mind. Consider whether a shorter visit would work better than a whole afternoon. Or arrange something close to home rather than committing to a long journey.

And if plans do change, it doesn’t have to mean Christmas has been ruined.

A quieter day may be disappointing in some ways, but it can still have things worth enjoying.

Decide what actually matters this year

When there’s so much to organise, it’s easy to keep working through the list without asking which parts are important to you.

Perhaps it’s having the family together, even if lunch is much simpler.

Maybe it’s listening to carols, watching a favourite film, making one particular recipe or finding time for a walk if you’re able.

Or perhaps what you’d really like is a peaceful afternoon with no demands on you at all.

It’s worth asking yourself what you’d most like to keep, especially if you can’t do everything.

You may find that some of the things taking the most effort aren’t the things anybody values most.

Share the organising, not just the jobs

There’s a difference between someone offering to help and someone taking responsibility for something.

If you’re the person who usually organises Christmas, you may know exactly what I mean.

Someone else might happily peel the potatoes if you ask. But you’re still the person remembering to buy them, working out when they need cooking and making sure they’re ready at the right time.

That thinking and remembering can be exhausting in its own right.

So rather than handing out individual jobs, could you hand over whole responsibilities?

Someone else could organise a meal, sort out presents for a particular group of people or make the arrangements for a family visit.

You don’t necessarily need more willing helpers. You may need fewer things that depend on you.

It’s all right to say ‘no’

December has a habit of filling up – a Christmas lunch here, a gathering there, another invitation, another favour, another thing to squeeze in before the holidays.

Individually, they might all sound lovely. Together, they can become far too much.

If you’re already managing limited time or energy, it’s worth being selective.

You can enjoy someone and still decline their invitation.

You can care about a tradition and decide not to do it this year.

And you can say, “I’d love to, but I don’t think we’ll be able to manage it this time,” without producing a detailed explanation.

Most people would rather know what’s realistic than have you struggle through something out of obligation.

Leave some room for ordinary pleasures

When Christmas becomes complicated, it can be tempting to concentrate entirely on getting through it.

But perhaps there’s room for something enjoyable that doesn’t require much organising.

A favourite piece of music. A good book. Watching the lights from the comfort of your sofa. A cup of tea in a quiet moment. A little time outside, if that appeals and is possible.

These aren’t techniques you need to practise or another list of things you ought to do.

They’re simply reminders that there can be pleasant moments in an imperfect day.

I often find that it’s the small, ordinary things I remember most fondly anyway.

If Christmas brings a sense of loss

Sometimes the hardest part isn’t the workload. It’s the difference between Christmas as it used to be and Christmas as it is now.

Perhaps someone you love is ill, and the family can’t gather in the same way.

Maybe you’re the person who’s unwell, and you miss being able to cook, host, travel or join in without thinking about the consequences.

Or perhaps life has changed in other ways, and traditions that once felt comforting now bring a sense of sadness.

It can be difficult to watch everyone else’s festive photographs when your own circumstances are so different.

You don’t have to pretend that isn’t disappointing.

And you don’t have to find a positive lesson in it.

Sometimes it helps simply to acknowledge that things have changed, and then consider whether there’s something you’d still like to do, in whatever way is possible this year.

A different Christmas isn’t necessarily the one you’d have chosen. But it may still contain moments that matter.

A little less doing, a little more enjoying

I don’t think the answer to an exhausting Christmas is another programme of healthy habits.

It’s probably fewer expectations, more realistic plans and a willingness to do things differently.

Perhaps the house won’t look quite as festive. Maybe the meal will be simpler, the visits shorter or some traditions postponed.

But if that means you have a little more time and energy for the people and things you care about, perhaps it’s a worthwhile exchange.

And if the Christmas cake collapses, you can always put it in a bowl with some cream and call it pudding.

Wishing you a Christmas with a little less pressure and a few good moments to enjoy.

Warm wishes,

Jo 💚


A note from Jo

Living alongside complex chronic illness in my own family taught me how much extra work can come with managing health, and how easily the rest of life gets squeezed around it.

These days, I offer thoughtful, practical conversations for people living with ongoing illness and those supporting them. A chance to make sense of what’s going on, consider what matters and find ways to make everyday life a little more manageable.

If that sounds useful, you can find out more about working with me.