Coming Home to Self for the Holidays: Is It Connection That I’m Missing?
- Live Well Live Whole
- 16 hours ago
- 16 min read
You can have invitations, group chats, matching pajamas, and still feel something hollow and aching inside.
You can be alone with no invitation to anyone’s elaborate, well-orchestrated holiday dinner party. No family table to tuck your feet under and no holiday festivities to attend.
Around the holidays, the ache can appear out of nowhere. The weather shifts, November arrives, and you find yourself bracing for the anticipated feelings of “loneliness” or “otherness” or subtle dread. You don’t have the cookie cutter life that followed a certain trajectory. A relative who once anchored your holiday experience may no longer be here. You may never have had a “traditional” familial experience.
Let’s normalize that: everyone doesn’t.And let’s normalize not blaming or othering people because they don’t have the kind of familial connection that is often touted as a standardized experience.
Sometimes, what’s missing are the people we’ve lost, relationships that never were, communities that don’t exist around us yet.
But sometimes the pain runs deeper than who is or isn’t in the room.
Sometimes the real question underneath the loneliness is:
Is it connection that I’m missing… or have I drifted so far from myself that even in my own body, I feel alone?
If you grew up in survival mode, around emotional neglect, chaos, or constant performing just to belong, disconnection from self can actually feel normal. The holidays just turn up the volume.
Before we talk about other people—families, partners, friendships, community—let’s start somewhere more intimate:
What is the quality of your connection with you right now?
This isn’t a test. There are no gold stars, no failing grades.Think of it as a compassionate snapshot, a gentle check-in with your own inner world—a quiet, confidential, and honest conversation that is just for you.
Self-Connection Check-In
How grounded in myself am I today?
As you read each statement, notice how true it feels for you right now, in this season of your life.
Use this simple scale:
1 – Not at all true for me2 – A little true3 – Mostly true4 – Very true
Move slowly. Take a breath if something stirs. You can always pause and come back.
A. Body & Nervous System Awareness
I notice what’s happening in my body (tight shoulders, clenched jaw, fluttery stomach) instead of living only in my head.
When I feel overwhelmed, I have at least one practice that helps me come back to center (breathing, stepping outside, journaling, music, prayer, gentle movement).
I can usually tell the difference between feeling truly unsafe and feeling emotionally uncomfortable but still okay.
B. Emotional Awareness & Honesty
I can name what I’m feeling with more words than “fine,” “tired,” or “stressed.”
I allow myself to feel what I feel without immediately judging it as “too much,” “not enough,” or “dramatic.”
I notice when I’m numbing out (scrolling, eating, overworking, caretaking, drinking) and can at least pause with some curiosity.
C. Boundaries & Self-Protection
I can say “no,” “not this year,” or “I need to leave early” to holiday plans or expectations that would drain me.
I don’t automatically make myself responsible for everyone else’s emotions or experience.
When I feel disrespected, minimized, or dismissed, I eventually address it or adjust my distance—instead of only swallowing it and pretending I’m okay.
D. Self-Compassion, Voice & Choice
I speak to myself in a tone I would use with someone I deeply care about (or I’m at least actively practicing this).
I make at least one choice each week that is just for me—something that nourishes, soothes, or delights me.
I believe, even a little, that my needs matter as much as everyone else’s—in thought and action.
Reflecting on Your Responses (No Judgment, Just Data)
Take a moment to scan your answers. Where did your numbers seem to cluster?
If most of your answers are 3s and 4s:You likely have some growing roots of self-connection. There may still be tender spots and old stories that flare up during the holidays, but you have practices and awareness you can lean into.
If you see a mix of 2s and 3s:You’re in a very human, in-between place—awake enough to notice, perhaps tired enough to want change, maybe not sure where to start. This is fertile ground. With intention, those small shoots of self-connection can deepen.
If many of your answers are 1s and 2s:You are not broken; you are likely a seasoned survivor. Disconnection from self has probably been a necessary strategy—one that helped you stay safe, accepted, or invisible when visibility felt dangerous. That is not a character flaw. It’s a survival skill that may now be asking to evolve.
Whatever you see on your page:
This is a snapshot, not a sentence.Self-connection is not a personality trait you either have or don’t have.It’s a practice—one you are allowed to begin or begin again, exactly where you are.
As you sit with your responses, you might notice something:
Maybe your “loneliness” shows up strongest where your boundaries are weakest.
Maybe your ache spikes when you silence your truth to keep the peace.
Maybe the loudest emptiness comes not when you’re physically alone, but when you’re in rooms where you can’t bring your whole self.
Let’s talk about why the holidays turn all of this up so loudly.
When Connection Becomes a Spotlight: Why the Holidays Turn Up the Volume
We’re sold a very specific holiday script:
You should be surrounded by family.
You should have a partner, or a tight friend group.
You should feel grateful, festive, full.
Your life should look a certain way by now.
Anything outside that script can feel like failure—or like a damaged self.
Once the season hits, the messages get loud and constant:
commercials with cozy tables, bright smiles, and jolly laughter,
social feeds full of matching pajamas and “my tribe,”
work parties, church services, Friendsgiving, family dinners, countdowns, and kiss-at-midnight moments.
The unspoken rule is:
If you are loved, you will be with your people.If you are whole, you will have somewhere to be.If you are worthy, you will be wanted.
So if your reality looks like:
few or no invitations,
being invited out of obligation (but not truly seen),
sitting at a table where you feel like the outsider,
navigating painful dynamics or old roles you’ve outgrown,
choosing to stay home to protect your peace,
not receiving an invitation at all…
it’s easy for the brain to translate that into:
Something is wrong with me. I don’t belong. I must be unlovable, forgotten, or left behind.
The ache isn’t just about being alone.It’s about feeling like you’re failing the assignment.
Honoring the Season You’re In
You may be in a season of disconnect—not because you’re broken, but because your soul is quietly refusing to keep participating in what harms you.
You may be in a season of healing, where your energy is going into therapy, rest, regulation, and learning a new way to be with yourself.
You may be in a season of quiet, where the volume turns down on everyone else’s voice so you can finally hear your own.
You may be in a season of creativity or pivot, where you are changing course, saying yes to new projects or callings, and gently dismantling a life that no longer fits.
You may be in a season of evaluating your connections—not just who you sit across from at the table, but how you sit with yourself. How you speak to yourself. How you honor your body, your time, your needs, your “no,” your “yes.”
If that’s you, your life might not photograph well right now. It might not fit the holiday script. But that doesn’t mean you’re failing.
It may mean you are in the sacred, uncomfortable middle of re-rooting your connection to self—and everything else will eventually grow from there.
How Survival Mode Teaches Us to Disconnect From Self
If you grew up with chaos, emotional neglect, criticism, or the unspoken rule that everyone else’s needs come first, you didn’t just learn how to survive your home.
You also learned a template for connection:
Scan the room: Who’s upset? Who do I need to calm, please, impress, caretake, avoid?
Diminish your needs: Don’t be “too much.” Don’t rock the boat. Don’t take up space.
Earn belonging: Be helpful, be funny, be perfect, be needed, be quiet, be successful—just don’t be inconvenient.
That template may have kept you safe then.It may have earned you moments of affection, praise, or protection.
But it also trained you to:
disconnect from your body (so you don’t feel the fear, sadness, or anger),
disconnect from your needs (so you don’t risk rejection),
disconnect from your voice (so you don’t invite punishment or shame).
Fast forward to adulthood, and especially to the holidays, and this can show up as:
saying yes when your whole body is a no,
staying in rooms where you feel small, erased, mocked, or used,
over-giving and over-functioning, hoping someone will finally reciprocate,
mistaking crumbs of attention for genuine connection.
On the outside, it can look like you’re very connected—busy, social, “always there for everyone.”
Inside, though, you may feel chronically alone.
Because connection that requires self-abandonment will always leave you lonely later.
Loneliness as Layers: Outer Circumstances and Inner Exile
When we say, “I feel so lonely,” we’re usually talking about:
not having people close by,
not having a partner,
missing family,
feeling left out or forgotten.
That’s real. We honor that.
But if we peel back a layer, there is often a quieter ache beneath the surface:
the part of you that’s never been fully seen,
the stories you’ve never been allowed to tell,
the grief you’ve had to carry alone,
invisible grief and unspoken wells of sorrow,
the creativity and desire you’ve had to put on a shelf,
the anger you swallowed to keep the peace,
the tenderness that never had a safe landing place,
the sensitivity you were told was “too much,”
the rejection of self,
perfectionism,
comparison.
This is the loneliness of inner exile—being separated from your own fullness.
So when holidays amplify “connection,” the pain isn’t just:
I don’t have enough people.
It’s often also:
I’ve gone so long without being with myselfthat I’m not sure I know how.
That can feel terrifying. But it can also be an invitation—an invitation to begin coming home to yourself, even in small ways.
Know Thyself: Becoming Un-Weaponizable
There’s a reason the ancient instruction was “Know thyself.”Not “fix thyself.” Not “perfect thyself.”Know. Thyself.
To know yourself is to lean into all of you:
your obvious strengths,
your quiet gifts,
your imperfections and quirks,
your blind spots and tender spots,
the parts you’re proud of,
and the parts you’d rather hide.
You are not static.You are not a finished product.
You are in a constant state of becoming—becoming more honest, more integrated, more you. Even when it feels like you’re standing still or slipping backwards, something in you is taking notes, learning, adjusting, healing.
Bringing the “Unloved” Parts Closer
Most of us were taught to deal with our insecurities and flaws by:
hiding them,
denying them,
overcompensating for them,
or beating ourselves up for having them.
But what if the work isn’t to push those parts away,but to bring them closer?
The part of you that’s sensitive.
The part that gets jealous or afraid.
The part that feels “too much” or “not enough.”
The part that still believes old stories about your worth.
Instead of exiling those parts, you begin to say:
“I see you. I know you.You don’t have to run my life, but you don’t have to live in the shadows either.”
This is what deep self-connection looks like. You become a safe place for yourself.
When You Know Yourself, You Can’t Be Held Hostage by You
One of the most powerful outcomes of knowing yourself is this:
Who you are can no longer be easily weaponized against you.
When you know:
your history,
your triggers,
your patterns,
your insecurities,
your wounds,
your coping strategies…
then when someone tries to:
throw your past in your face,
shame you for what you’ve already owned,
manipulate your fear of abandonment,
or gaslight you about your reality,
it lands differently.
It might still sting—because you’re human.But you’re not blindsided.
You can say (even if only inside yourself):
“Yes, I know that about me. I’m already in relationship with that part.You don’t get to use it to control me.”
That doesn’t mean you stop growing.It means you grow from self-awareness, not from self-hatred.
Releasing Perfection and Claiming Your Own Lane
Perfection is one of the most socially acceptable ways we abandon ourselves.
It sounds like:
“Once I lose the weight, then I’ll…”
“Once my family looks like this, I’ll feel better.”
“Once I’m more healed, more disciplined, more productive, more successful…”
Perfection whispers that you are always one achievement, one relationship, one makeover away from finally being “enough” to belong.
And the holidays pour gasoline on that lie.
Perfection Is a Moving Target (and a Rigged Game)
Perfection keeps shifting the finish line:
If you host, it should have been more elegant.
If you stay home, you “should” have been more social.
If you’re single, you “should” have a partner by now.
If you’re partnered, you “should” look happier, more in love, more aligned.
If you give, you “should” have given more.
If you rest, you “should” have worked harder.
You never arrive. There is always a new “standard” you’re supposedly failing.
Perfection is not about growth.It’s about control and fear—fear of being judged, rejected, abandoned, exposed.
And when you’re chasing someone else’s ideal all the time, it’s nearly impossible to feel connected to yourself. How can you be rooted in you when you’re constantly trying to be a more “acceptable” version of someone else?
Claiming Your Own Lane
Releasing perfection is not the same as giving up.
It’s choosing to claim your lane—the lane where your actual life, body, gifts, limits, and circumstances exist.
Your lane includes:
your history and what you’ve survived,
your current season (healing, quiet, rebuilding, creative pivot, grief),
your nervous system and what it can realistically hold,
your gifts—loud ones and subtle ones,
your quirks, edges, sense of humor, creativity, and way of loving,
your peace—where you find equilibrium and calm,
your creativity—where you find freedom of expression and the inside-out joy of bringing forth something out of nothing, from thought to reality.
Claiming your lane means you stop:
measuring your progress against someone else’s path,
trying to earn worth through over-functioning and over-giving,
contorting yourself to fit tables and circles that were never designed with your wholeness in mind.
Instead, you begin to ask:
“What is mine to carry, shape, create, contribute—exactly as I am, from where I stand?”
Your Gifts, Talents, and Resources Are Already Here
Perfection says:
“When you finally become this ideal, then you’ll have something valuable to offer.”
Self-connection says:
“You already have gifts. Let’s uncover and honor them now. What is in your hands to cultivate right now?”
Your “resources” are not just money, status, or degrees. They are:
your capacity to listen deeply,
your ability to make people laugh or feel seen,
your creative eye,
your spiritual practices or intuition,
your resilience and wisdom,
your story and the meaning you’ve made from it,
your tenderness, boundaries, and truth.
You don’t have to wait until you are “perfect” to:
write the thing,
sing the song,
start the small group,
launch the project,
set the boundary,
tell your story,
rest without apologizing.
When you claim your lane, you give yourself permission to use what you actually have—not what you wish you had, not what looks impressive, but what is real, present, and alive in you right now.
Shame, Comparison, and Guilt: The Trio That Keeps You Small
If self-connection is about coming home to yourself, shame, comparison, and guilt are like bouncers at the door saying:
“No, not you. You’re not ready. You’re not enough. Go fix yourself first.”
T
hey are some of the most powerful forces keeping us disconnected from ourselves and shrinking in front of others—especially during the holidays.
Shame: “Something Is Wrong With Me”
Shame doesn’t say, “I did something wrong.”Shame says, “I am something wrong.”
It can sound like:
“If I were lovable, I wouldn’t be alone right now.”
“If I were really healing, I wouldn’t still struggle with this.”
“If I were a better daughter/son/parent/partner, my family would be different.”
“If my body looked different, I’d finally be chosen or celebrated.”
Shame makes you:
second-guess your worth in every room,
over-explain your life choices,
apologize for your existence,
feel like you have to earn your seat at the table.
And when shame is loud, self-connection feels dangerous.Why would you want to spend time with someone you’ve decided is fundamentally broken?
So you disconnect:
from your needs (“I shouldn’t need that”),
from your body (“I don’t want to feel this”),
from your truth (“No one wants to hear that”).
Shame doesn’t just hurt your feelings. It exiles you from yourself.
Comparison: Measuring Your Life Against Someone Else’s Highlight Reel
Comparison scrolls social media and points out:
who has a partner and you don’t,
who has the “perfect” family photos,
who has the house, the career, the body, the friend group, the traditions.
It does not care about context: what they’ve lost, what they’re masking, the cost of what they’re carrying.
Comparison doesn’t ask,
“Is this life right for me?”It simply whispers,“You are behind. You are less.”
The result?
You start living on someone else’s timeline.
You judge your current season as a failure.
You dismiss your actual progress because it doesn’t look like theirs.
Comparison pulls you out of your lane and into a race that was never meant for you.
Guilt: Punished for Having Needs, Boundaries, or Desire
There is healthy guilt (“I did something that hurt someone, and I want to repair it”).Then there is weaponized guilt, often rooted in family, culture, or old roles.
It can sound like:
“How dare you break tradition or say no?”
“After all they’ve done for you, you’re not going to show up?”
“You should be grateful and stop complaining.”
“You think you’re better than us now?”
Weaponized guilt trains you to:
override your body’s signals,
stay in harmful dynamics,
take responsibility for everyone else’s emotions,
feel bad for needing rest, space, or change.
So you shrink. You make yourself easier to tolerate. You minimize your accomplishments so others won’t feel threatened. You stay quiet about your pain so no one has to be uncomfortable. You dim your joy so no one calls you selfish.
Guilt turns choosing yourself into an act of betrayal—even when choosing yourself is an act of survival.
How They Work Together to Disconnect You From Self
Shame, comparison, and guilt form a little inner committee:
Shame says: “You’re not enough.”
Comparison says: “Look at everyone who proves it.”
Guilt says: “And if you try to change, you’re selfish.”
Together, they:
keep you performing instead of being,
keep you shrinking so others don’t feel uncomfortable,
keep you silent so you don’t rock the boat,
keep you busy so you never stop long enough to hear your own truth.
And each time you abandon your inner knowing to satisfy them, the disconnection from self grows.
Not shrinking doesn’t mean becoming aggressive or loud (unless that’s authentically you). It can look like:
not making jokes at your own expense this year,
choosing an outfit that feels good on your body,
not explaining your weight, your relationship status, your career, your healing,
leaving a conversation that feels like a character assassination,
saying, “That comment wasn’t okay with me,” even if your voice shakes.
Every time you do this, you send your nervous system a new message:
“I will not abandon you just to make other people comfortable.”
That’s self-connection in motion.That’s what it looks like to start coming home.
Gentle Practices: Staying Connected to Self in a Season That Pulls You Away
We can’t fix family systems with one article.We can’t conjure a partner or overnight community.
But we can practice staying a little more connected to ourselves in a season that often invites us to disconnect.
Take what fits. Leave the rest.
1. A 60-Second Check-In Before You Say Yes
Before you commit to an event, favor, or gathering:
Place a hand on your chest or belly.
Take one slow breath in, one long breath out.
Ask:
What am I feeling about this?
What am I needing right now?
If I say yes, what part of me will I be honoring? If I say no, what part of me will I be protecting?
You might still decide to go. You might decide not to.The point is that you don’t bypass yourself in the decision.
2. Create One Daily Anchor Ritual
Choose a tiny, repeatable practice that says, “I am here with you” to yourself:
lighting a candle in the morning or evening and whispering one affirmation,
pulling an affirmation card and writing one sentence about how it lands,
a 5-minute walk outside without your phone,
three slow breaths while your feet are on the ground,
one song a day that you listen to fully, with your eyes closed,
coloring, doodling, or painting—doing something creative.
Let it be small and yours.Consistency, not intensity, is what tells your nervous system:
“I’m not abandoning you this time.”
3. Make Space for Honest Grief
You’re allowed to grieve:
people who died,
relationships that broke,
family you wish you had,
children, partners, communities, or milestones that never came,
versions of you that never got a chance to be.
A simple grief ritual:
Write down what or who you’re missing.
Light a candle or sit by a window.
Read your words out loud, even if it’s just a whisper.
If tears come, let them come. If numbness comes, notice that too.
This is not weakness.This is you standing with yourself in truth.
4. Protect Your Edges: Gentle Boundaries
Holiday boundary examples:
“I can come for a couple of hours, but I’ll need to leave by 8.”
“I won’t be discussing my body, my relationship status, or my plans this year.”
“I’m not up for a big gathering, but I’d love a quieter coffee or FaceTime.”
“I’m staying home this year to rest and reset. We can catch up another time.”
You are not obligated to sacrifice your mental health to prove you are loving or grateful. You are not obligated to overspend, overshare, over-function, over-give, or abandon yourself.
Love includes how you care for your own nervous system, not just how you show up for others.
5. Make Room for Creativity and Pivot
Treat your creative impulses as connection points with your own soul:
doodling or collage,
singing, dancing in your living room,
writing letters you may never send,
rearranging a corner of your home to feel more like you,
planning a new project that lights you up.
These acts might look small from the outside.But they are ways of saying:
“I am not abandoning my aliveness just because this season feels hard.”
6. Reach Out From a Grounded Place (If and When You Can)
Sometimes self-connection makes it easier to reach out—not from desperation, but from truth.
You might:
send a text: “I’m thinking of you and could use a little connection today.”
ask one trusted person, “Do you have space for a call or check-in this week?”
join a community space (online or in-person) that aligns with your values and energy.
let someone know, “The holidays are tough for me. If I seem quiet, that’s why.”
visit a nursing home,
volunteer at a children’s hospital to hold or rock babies,
spend time at an animal shelter offering care and presence.
If you’re not ready for that—if your season is more about rest, solitude, or healing—that’s okay too.
Reaching out is an option, not an obligation.
Closing Blessing: Coming Home to Self
If this holiday season finds you:
alone in your home,
surrounded but unseen,
tired of pretending,
or somewhere in the in-between…
You are not failing at life.You are not behind.
You may be in a season of disconnect that is actually a season of repair.A season where your system is learning that:
your needs matter,
your “no” is valid,
your “yes” is sacred,
your body’s signals are worth honoring,
your creativity, softness, anger, truth, and rest all have a place.
You may be quietly re-writing what connection means—starting with your connection to you.
May you remember this:You are not just longing for other people.You are also longing for yourself.And step by step, breath by breath,you are allowed to come home.
If it helps, create a simple daily ritual—an affirmation, a breath, a journal line—that reminds you:
I am worth being connected to.Even, and especially, by me.I am worth the effort it takes to care for myself—mind, body, soul, and spirit.
Reflection: Coming Home to Self
Use these prompts gently. You don’t have to answer them all at once. Choose one or two that speak to where you are today.
Loneliness vs. Disconnection
When I feel lonely, what am I actually longing for—more people, or more of me?
Where do I feel most disconnected from myself right now?
Season You’re In
What season am I in—healing, quiet, creativity, pivot, reevaluating connections?
How can I honor this season instead of judging it?
Self-Abandonment Check-In
Where do I most often abandon myself to keep the peace or stay “connected”?
What would a small act of self-loyalty look like in that area this week?
Know Thyself / Un-Weaponizable
What part of me do I still keep at arm’s length (a fear, flaw, insecurity, story)?
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