Holding Joy, Grief, and Everything In Between: An Invitation to Welcome Every Part of You This Holiday Season

Holidays have a way of stirring up all the parts of us.

There are the parts that love the lights, the music, the gatherings, and the sense of magic that fills the air. Those parts feel grateful and full of joy. They soak up connection and celebration, leaning into the warmth of the season.

But if I’m being honest, I also have parts that don’t feel quite as festive.

There’s a part of me that becomes more critical this time of year. As the holidays approach and the year winds down, that part starts taking inventory. It reminds me of what I didn’t finish, the goals that slipped through the cracks, and the ways life looks different than I imagined it would. It’s not trying to tear me down—it’s trying to keep me accountable, prepared, and safe from disappointment. But its voice can feel sharp, especially when everything around me is telling me to be merry and bright.

There’s also a part that grieves. It remembers the people I’ve lost, the relationships that have shifted, and the memories that feel both sweet and heavy.

And then there’s the part shaped by growing up around the holiday rush. My family’s business was inside a mall, so December meant long days, big crowds, and a front-row seat to the “I have so much to do” energy of the season. I saw the beautiful side of the holidays, but I also saw the overwhelming side—the pressure, the rushing, the expectations. Even now, years later, my body remembers. Sometimes all it takes is hearing jingle bells in a store, and the familiar tension rises, as if I’m preparing for a kind of chaos that isn’t even there anymore.

These parts can feel a little like the Grinch—showing up just as I’m settling into joy and excitement. For a long time, I carried resentment and frustration toward these not-so-festive parts. I didn’t understand why they had to appear right when I wanted to feel light and joyful. But the more I’ve learned to listen to them, to hold space for their feelings, fears, and memories, the more I’ve realized they’re not trying to steal anything from me. They’re trying to remind me where I’ve been, what has changed, and how life can look different while still feeling deeply my own. They, too, are part of my story.

So this season, I am choosing to make space for all of it.
I want to offer compassion to the parts that want to sing along to every Christmas song, and to the parts that need a moment to breathe. I want to honor the complexity that comes with endings, beginnings, and everything in between.

Wherever you find yourself this season—whether you’re full of holiday spirit, feeling the weight of loss, noticing old memories in your body, or landing somewhere in between—there is room for all of your parts too.

IFS (Internal Family Systems) offers a gentle and compassionate way to understand these internal experiences instead of fighting against them. It helps us notice what our parts are carrying and what they’re trying to protect, even when their timing feels inconvenient or confusing.

If this season is stirring up more than you expected, we’re here to help you understand your parts with clarity, warmth, and support

Written By: Jessica Sahoury, MA, LMFTA