To the one bracing for December,

This month has a way of stirring everything you thought you’d tucked neatly away.
The lights go up, the carols start, people talk about “joy” like it’s a switch you can flick on.
And somewhere inside you is that quiet whisper:
I should feel something… shouldn’t I?

December is full of symbols … trees, candles, traditions, photos …
and each one can feel like a trigger you didn’t consent to.
You can be walking through the supermarket and suddenly you’re back in another year,
another life, another version of you that had someone beside you who isn’t here now.

If you’ve felt flat, numb, irritable, or like you’re living slightly outside your own body;
that’s not you “doing badly.”
That’s grief in a season that demands more than you have to give.

You don’t have to be merry.
You don’t have to be social.
You don’t have to decorate your home or your face with a careful smile.

You’re allowed to protect your heart.
You’re allowed to choose quiet.
You’re allowed to feel the weight of what’s missing without apologising for it.

One true thing:
You’re not failing this season. You’re surviving something enormous in a month that pretends everything should be light.

Quote:
“In the space where joy is expected, grief often speaks the loudest.”
- Unknown

Song:
“Ghost” - Sleeping At Last
(A quiet companion for the days that don’t make sense.)

A note from me:
If December hits you sideways … if you’re moving slower, crying quicker, or feeling nothing at all; you can reply anytime. You don’t need perfect words. You don’t need to pretend joy you don’t feel. I’ll meet you exactly where you are.

With care,

Kirsten