Christmas, the Quiet Struggles, and Lifting One Another Up

If the Holidays Feel Lonely This Year, Please Read This

This time of year can be the most amazing. Dreamy. Magical. Fulfilling.
Or it can be the most dreaded time of year. Lonely. Expensive. Sad. Frustrating.

As humans, we experience a wide range of emotions, often simultaneously. Sometimes our feelings are driven by our environment. Sometimes by the people around us. Sometimes, by our circumstances. And sometimes by things we cannot quite explain.

I recently posted about Christmas in New York. What an absolute thrill that trip was. We even used the word magical to describe it. And it truly was. That was a few years back, and I am so grateful for that experience. It reminded me how important it is to enjoy moments while we can and to soak them in fully.

Life, however, has a way of reminding us that seasons change quickly.

This year, I was reminded again.

With a completely unexpected torn Achilles injury and surgery in September/October, my fall and winter took a sharp turn. I went from a fast-paced, exciting, busy lifestyle to being unable to walk. Italy cancelled, withdrew from pickleball, ballet, yoga, and more.

Unable to do the things I love. Unable to participate in the activities that normally bring me joy. Life carried on. Friends lived their lives. Families gathered and continued together. And I found myself at home, moving from doctor’s appointments to my new office, my couch, and now, simply trying to learn how to walk again.

It was humbling. It was isolating. And it was harder than I expected.

Social media makes it incredibly easy to portray life as perfect. We see quick snapshots of the best moments of someone’s day, week, month, or year. Some of those photos and videos are very real moments of happiness. Others are posted to cover up pain or to create the illusion of a life someone wishes they were living. And that is human.

Social media can be beautiful. Stunning images. Art. Milestones. Memories. We share a lot. Some people share very little. Some share often. And that is okay. Do what works for you.

But please know this. You are not alone when you look at those posts and wonder why your life looks the way it does. Or how you ended up where you are. Many people struggle during this time of year. Maybe not every year. And hopefully not every year. But this season can be incredibly heavy for some.

While some families are fully immersed in holiday gatherings, others sit alone, sometimes by choice and sometimes by circumstance. Some people have created what we call chosen families. These are the people you find along the way. Like-minded souls who lift you up. People who show up when you are sick or hurting. People who remind you that you matter. That you are loved. Families are complicated. I have seen many versions of them. I have been part of a few. And every year looks different.

Some say Christmas is about family. Others say it is about our Lord and Savior and gratitude for all we have been given. This year, I found myself sitting in a very familiar but uncomfortable space.

Living in the now.

As Eckhart Tolle teaches, living in the present moment is essential. Stop living in the past. Stop living in the future. Live here. Now. Breathe. Feel. Listen. Tomorrow is a new day. Next year is a new year. And next Christmas will be a different Christmas.

I post frequently on social media. I love sharing ideas. Travel. Outfits. Home inspiration. Experiences. But over the past few weeks, I found myself with very little to post. And what I did post often carried a happy front, when behind the scenes, I was struggling.

It has been a long time since I felt that way.

With all the mindset work, therapy, and learning I have done over the years, I can now look back with a different perspective. But during about three weeks of my recovery, I truly struggled. I felt alone. Injured. Disconnected. Even the tools I preach and practice fell away. Journaling stopped. Positive mindset stopped. Manifesting stopped. I was not growing. I was simply existing.

My thoughts spiraled. Why me. Why can’t I walk? Why am I alone? Where are my friends? Where is my family?

For the first time in my life, I could not fully take care of myself. I could not cook easily. I could not get around my acreage. I could not burn off stress with movement. And it took a toll on me physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Was it the cold, dark winter days that kept so many of us cooped up and down? Was it Thanksgiving approaching, and feeling left alone by my dad and brother? No mom to help hold things together. Probably all of it.

Yes, I had invitations. Friends and their families opened their doors. My extended family reached out. But my headspace felt alone, and sometimes that is all it takes.

I lost my mom ten years ago. And as we know, moms often hold families together. I was left navigating a complicated relationship with a brother who no longer speaks to me, a father still finding his way, and a single life with me, my barn cat, and my horse Clint, who is still in training.

There were days I wanted to sleep and pull away from everything.

But here is the blessing.

Over the years, I have built a family. A family of friends. They have their own lives. Spouses. Children. Responsibilities. But they noticed I was not myself. They checked on me. They lifted me. They sent encouraging messages and daily devotionals when I had lost sight of God.

One friend said something I will never forget.
“Tiff, it is so good to hear you belly laugh again.”

He was right. I had tried to convince myself that I belonged alone. One friend gently reminded me that isolation is often how the enemy works. To separate. To darken. To pull us deeper inward.

For weeks, I played the poor me game. And then slowly, I came back.

While traveling with friends, we talked about this very blog. They encouraged me to write about the struggle. To be real. To be raw. I hesitated, because I already share so much of my life. But if it helps even one person feel less alone, then it is worth it.

Is that not what we are called to do? To lift one another up? To show compassion? To be Christlike?

My life may look beautiful on social media. And yes, I love beautiful things, people, and places. But behind every photo is a real person. A human. Me. Struggling at times, just like you.

The holidays are tough for many. I am still working through them. With the help of my therapist, I have realized I am experiencing grief. Grief from losing my mom. Grief from losing my dog Rawkie after eighteen and a half years. Grief from losing my brother. Grief from the end of a long-term relationship. Grief from losing my physical outlet through pickleball, ballet, yoga, and even simple walks.

Will I feel lonely again during future holidays? Possibly. But now I have tools. Friends. Faith. Books. Prayer. Journaling. Meditation. And awareness.

Each year is a new holiday. Each day is new. Live in the now. Experience the moment without getting consumed by thoughts of the past or fears of the future. Those thoughts can consume us if we let them.

I want to share one final story that deeply changed me.

During my recovery, I made it a point to start using the sauna at my gym three to four times a week. I had read that consistent sauna use, around fifteen to twenty minutes per session, can significantly help the body reduce inflammation, support the immune system, and even lower the risk of illness and disease over time. Some studies suggest it can reduce overall mortality and sickness rates by a meaningful percentage when used regularly. At that point, I was not just trying to heal physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. The sauna became one of the few places where I could sit still, breathe deeply, sweat out stress, and quiet my thoughts. It was one of the only things I felt I had control over during a time when my body felt foreign and limited. I would sit there with my boot on, book in hand, trying to remind myself that healing happens in layers, not all at once.

One afternoon, I sat there with my boot off, reading a book a friend gave me called Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life by Joyce Meyer. I was down. Not out, but close. 

As I was leaving the sauna, a woman stopped me. She asked about my injury. I told her the story. She looked at me with such kindness and said she understood how losing independence can wear on you.

She asked how I was really doing.

I answered with tears in my eyes. She spoke about staying focused, guarding your thoughts, and not letting darkness take over. I showed her my book. She smiled and said how much she loved Joyce Meyer. Then she asked if she could pray with me.

Right there. Outside the sauna. A stranger took my hand and prayed over me. She prayed for my healing. My strength. My faith. My support system. I cried. We hugged. I thanked her and told her she had no idea how much I needed that moment.

And just like that, God showed up through a stranger.

That small act of kindness changed something in me. It reminded me that God speaks through others. That we are never truly alone. And that sometimes the simplest moments carry the greatest impact.

So here I am, sharing my story with you. I am not perfect. I am not always happy. I have days just like you. And as we move through this holiday season, I want to remind you what Christmas is truly about.

Love. Faith. Christ. And being Christlike to others.

If you are struggling, please know you are not alone. And if you are in a good place, please look around and lift someone up.

With love,
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays,
Tiffany 🎄🤍