The Holiday Season Begins, But Not Everyone Is Looking Forward to It

Many of my clients don't like the holiday season.

As the holidays approach, I often notice how differently people experience a time of the year that is almost universally associated with happiness, celebration, togetherness, and much-needed rest. While some eagerly anticipate family gatherings, vacations, and festivities, others find themselves wishing the season would pass as quickly as possible.

And I think there is something worth talking about here.

Every year, it begins the same way. The weather changes, the streets begin to look different, shops fill with decorations, and people start talking about their plans. Social media becomes a collection of carefully captured moments: airport photographs, family dinners, decorated homes, smiling faces, and captions about making memories.

The holiday season has officially begun.

And yet, not everyone feels excited.

Some people would rather stay home, follow their usual routines, and let the days pass without having to make them memorable. Some dread the endless social commitments, while others struggle to explain why they feel indifferent about something everyone else seems to enjoy.

We have collectively created a narrative around holidays: they are supposed to be happy. They are supposed to bring people closer, give us a break from everyday struggles, and leave us with memories worth holding on to.

But what happens when you don't feel that way?

Sometimes, the hardest part isn't disliking the holidays. It's feeling like you're not supposed to.

When Happiness Becomes an Expectation

There is something strangely uncomfortable about being surrounded by collective happiness when you don't feel it yourself.

People ask about your plans. They talk about places they want to visit, people they want to meet, and things they want to do.

What are your plans? Where are you going? Who are you spending it with?

These questions are usually well-intentioned. But for someone who has no plans, doesn't enjoy social gatherings, or is struggling emotionally, they can reinforce a sense of being out of step with everyone else.

When the world seems to be having a good time, your own lack of excitement can begin to feel like a personal failing.

You might wonder why you cannot look forward to something that everyone else seems to love. You might force yourself to make plans, attend gatherings, or appear happier than you actually feel.

And before you know it, a holiday that was supposed to offer a break has become another situation in which you feel the need to perform.

We are not merely given an opportunity to celebrate; we are often expected to feel celebratory.

But there is a difference between being unhappy and simply not being excited. There is a difference between being ungrateful and not wanting to celebrate. And there is a difference between disliking holidays and disliking the pressure to turn every free day into a meaningful experience.

Not everyone experiences joy in the same way. Not everyone finds socialising restorative. And not everyone needs a calendar full of plans to feel that their life is meaningful.

Sometimes, you simply want an ordinary day.

Maybe It's Not the Holidays Themselves

For some people, holidays represent freedom, adventure, and an opportunity to escape the demands of everyday life. For others, they represent disruption.

Our routines provide a certain rhythm to our lives. There is work to attend to, responsibilities to fulfil, and a seemingly endless list of things that need to get done. Even when life feels overwhelming, these routines can give our days a sense of direction.

Holidays interrupt that structure.

Suddenly, there is more time. More space. Fewer distractions.

And occasionally, more room for thoughts and feelings that have been sitting quietly in the background.

An unresolved conflict, a difficult relationship, a sense of dissatisfaction with one's life, or an emotion that has been pushed aside can become more noticeable when the usual distractions disappear.

For others, the difficulty is more concrete. Family gatherings may mean navigating complicated relationships. Returning home may bring back painful memories. Spending time with relatives may expose someone to uncomfortable questions about marriage, career choices, finances, or other deeply personal matters.

And sometimes, nothing particularly bad has happened. You simply don't feel the excitement that everyone seems to be experiencing.

Perhaps this is why it can be helpful to become curious about our own experiences rather than immediately judging them.

Instead of asking, "Why don't I like holidays when everyone else does?" we might ask, "What is it about this time of year that feels difficult for me?"

The answer might be loneliness. It might be exhaustion, grief, anxiety, family dynamics, or a need for solitude. It might simply be that you prefer the familiarity of your everyday life.

Not every difficult holiday experience has a hidden psychological explanation. Sometimes, you just don't enjoy holidays.

And that, too, is a valid experience.

The Loneliness of Being Surrounded by Happiness

There is another side to the holiday season that doesn't always make it into photographs.

Sometimes, holidays make us more aware of the things we don't have, the people we miss, the relationships that have changed, or the parts of our lives that haven't turned out the way we imagined.

We see families getting together, friends travelling, couples celebrating, and people making the most of their time off.

For someone experiencing loneliness, grief, relationship difficulties, or a sense of disconnection, these images can make an already difficult experience feel even more isolating.

It isn't necessarily that they want what everyone else has. Sometimes, they simply want to feel that their own experience is acceptable, too.

There is a difference between being alone and feeling lonely. There is also a difference between choosing solitude and feeling excluded.

Sometimes, you can be surrounded by people and still feel disconnected. Sometimes, you can have people who love you and still struggle to explain what you are feeling.

And sometimes, you may not even know how to put your feelings into words.

During the holidays, these experiences can become more pronounced because togetherness is so heavily emphasised.

We need to make space for the possibility that someone can be loved and still feel lonely, have people to spend time with and still crave solitude, or have a seemingly comfortable life and still struggle with the emotional expectations attached to the season.

Human experiences rarely fit neatly into the narratives we create around them.

You Don't Have to Earn Your Rest by Enjoying It

Perhaps one of the most overlooked aspects of the holiday season is the pressure to make it count.

We plan trips, arrange gatherings, create itineraries, and try to ensure that our time off is spent meaningfully. Even rest can become something we feel compelled to optimise.

We want to return feeling refreshed, fulfilled, and ready to take on the world again.

But what if we don't?

What if we spend a holiday at home? What if we sleep a little longer, cook something familiar, read a book, or do absolutely nothing of significance?

What if we don't feel particularly rejuvenated when the holidays end?

We spend so much of our everyday lives wishing for a break, only to spend that break worrying about whether we are enjoying it correctly.

We live in a culture that often encourages us to make the most of every opportunity. Yet, sometimes, this mindset makes it difficult to recognise that our needs may change from one moment to another.

Rest doesn't always have to be productive. Solitude doesn't always have to lead to self-discovery. And time off doesn't have to result in a memorable experience.

You don't have to turn every free day into a meaningful experience to justify having it.

I can appreciate having time off without wanting to travel. I can appreciate the people in my life without wanting to attend every gathering. I can be grateful for what I have without feeling the need to demonstrate that gratitude through celebration.

And I can spend a perfectly ordinary day doing perfectly ordinary things without feeling that I have wasted it.

Perhaps there is a quiet kind of freedom in that.

What If We Stopped Trying to Fix It?

As a counsellor, I believe there is value in approaching these experiences with curiosity rather than assumptions.

When someone says they don't like the holidays, our first instinct might be to encourage them to make plans, spend time with friends, go somewhere new, or focus on the positives.

Sometimes, those suggestions may be helpful.

But before offering solutions, perhaps we should pause and listen.

What does the holiday season mean to this person? What makes it difficult? Do they feel overwhelmed by social expectations? Are they struggling with grief or loneliness? Do they find comfort in their usual routine? Or do they simply prefer spending their time differently?

The goal shouldn't necessarily be to help everyone enjoy the holidays.

Instead, perhaps the goal is to help people understand their own experiences without immediately judging them.

For some, that might mean setting boundaries around family gatherings. For others, it could mean maintaining a familiar routine, making fewer social commitments, or finding ways to acknowledge difficult emotions without feeling pressured to move past them.

It might also mean recognising when avoiding every social interaction is leaving us feeling more isolated, and gently exploring whether there are forms of connection that feel comfortable and manageable.

The point isn't to prescribe solitude or socialising as the answer. It is to recognise that different people have different needs, and those needs deserve consideration.

Sometimes, people don't need to be persuaded to enjoy a particular season. They need to know that they can experience it differently without being judged.

Of course, if a persistent loss of interest extends beyond the holiday season and begins affecting everyday life, it may be worth exploring with a mental health professional. But disliking holidays, in itself, is not a diagnosis.

Maybe It's Okay Not to Like Holidays

The holiday season will arrive, whether we are ready for it or not.

People will make plans, photographs will be taken, and the world will continue celebrating in its own way.

And some of us might still not like holidays.

Perhaps we will change our minds one day. Perhaps we will find traditions that feel meaningful to us. Perhaps we will discover that what we dislike isn't the holiday itself, but the expectations, the disruption, or the pressure to feel something on command.

Or perhaps we will simply continue to prefer ordinary days.

I am beginning to think that neither possibility requires an explanation.

We spend so much of our lives trying to fit into the experiences that are supposed to make us happy. We follow familiar milestones, participate in expected celebrations, and sometimes question ourselves when our feelings don't match the occasion.

But a meaningful life doesn't have to look festive.

It doesn't have to be filled with trips, gatherings, celebrations, or extraordinary memories. Sometimes, meaning exists in the quiet consistency of everyday life, in the routines we return to, and in the small moments that nobody else gets to see.

So, as the holiday season begins, perhaps we can make a different kind of plan.

Perhaps we can give ourselves permission not to have one.

We can meet people when we have the energy, decline invitations when we need rest, and leave some days entirely unremarkable.

We can allow ourselves to feel whatever we feel without immediately trying to fix it.

And if we find a little happiness along the way, we can welcome it without demanding that it last.

The holidays can begin.

The world can celebrate.

And we can be exactly where we are, feeling exactly what we feel.

Not every season has to be your favourite. Not every celebration has to be yours. And not every day has to be extraordinary to be worth living.

Perhaps the holiday season doesn't need to feel special to everyone.

— Perhaps we simply need to make room for people to experience it in their own way.