When women carry the season and the joy gets lost
It's barely November and you're already tired.
The turkey has been ordered. Or it isn't, and that's on your list too. Right next to the grocery run, the guest room, the school concert, your mom's doctor appointment, and figuring out who sits where so nobody fights.
Somewhere in there, you're supposed to feel grateful. Festive. Joyful.
Instead, you feel like the holiday project manager. Unpaid. Unthanked. Running on fumes before Thanksgiving even gets here.
The Invisible Load Gets Heavier in November
Most women already carry more than anyone sees. The meal planning. The remembering. Keeping track of everyone's needs, moods, and schedules.
The holidays don't replace that load. They pile on top of it.
Now there's the shopping, the cooking, the cleaning before and after. The gifts. The traditions everyone expects to happen like magic.
They don't happen like magic. They happen because you make them happen.
And sometimes the people enjoying those traditions have no idea how much work goes into creating them.
Caught in the Middle
If you're part of the sandwich generation, there's even more to consider.
You're caring for kids, whether they're little or grown and coming home. And you're caring for aging parents who need more help than they did last year.
Maybe your dad can't drive anymore. Maybe your mom used to host and now she can't. Maybe this is the first year you've really noticed how much they've changed.
Maybe you're quietly wondering how many more holidays you'll have with them.
That's not just logistics. That's grief.
And grief doesn't wait for a convenient time. It shows up at the table, right next to the cranberry sauce.
When the Joy Gets Lost
It's hard to enjoy something when you're responsible for making every part of it happen.
You're not really sitting with your family. You're thinking about what's still in the oven, whether there's enough food, and what needs to happen next.
Holiday stress can leave you irritable, resentful, or lying awake at 2 a.m. running through tomorrow's list.
The season you used to love starts feeling like something to survive, or at the very least, another series of tasks to check off.
And then comes the guilt.
Why am I so resentful? I should be enjoying this.
Maybe you've been carrying more than anyone realizes, including yourself.
What's Underneath the Overwhelm?
Here's what I often see in my office. The overwhelm isn't only about the to-do list.
It's about the belief that if you don't hold everything together, it'll fall apart. That you're responsible for everyone having a wonderful holiday. That asking for help somehow means you've failed.
For some women, being the capable one started early. Maybe you learned to anticipate everyone else's needs, keep the peace, or make sure nobody was disappointed.
Those patterns can become so familiar that you barely notice how much they cost you.
And when you finally want something different, guilt shows up.
What If You Didn't Have to Do It All?
I'm not going to tell you that a bubble bath or a better planner will solve this.
But you might begin by asking yourself a few questions.
Which traditions still bring you joy, and which ones are you maintaining because someone expects you to?
What would happen if someone else took responsibility for part of the holiday, even if they did it differently?
And whose disappointment are you working so hard to prevent?
You may discover that letting go of some responsibilities is harder than you expected. That's worth getting curious about, not criticizing yourself for.
Women's Therapy in Renton, WA
If the holidays leave you depleted year after year, it may be time to explore what's underneath that familiar sense of responsibility.
I offer women's therapy in Renton, WA, and online throughout Washington State. I use Lifespan Integration, a gentle, body-based approach that works with the nervous system. Together, we can explore how earlier experiences shaped the belief that you have to carry everything, and begin making room for different choices.
You deserve a seat at the table too. Not just the job of setting it.
With care and compassion,
Jacquelyn
Written by Jacquelyn Baker
Space for Grief — Renton, WA
In-person & online therapy across Washington
