This holiday season began differently for me.

I felt it right away.

Usually, I enter December racing from one thing to another, full of plans and ideas. This year, that energy just was not with me. Instead, I felt a quiet pull to slow down.

It could be the accumulation of daily life catching up with me in a way I can no longer ignore, but I knew I needed a different approach.

A recent small moment made everything clearer. I was at my local home decor store, drifting through the aisles the way people do when they are looking for something familiar. Then I saw, not too far from me, a Christmas tree already adorned with bright lights and cheerful decorations.

I would usually opt for a plain tree and spend hours decorating it myself. But this tree was ready for me to take him home.

So I did. And when I plugged it in, the room immediately felt cozy and inviting. No boxes to unpack, no tangled lights to deal with, and no need for a ladder. It was all set up in just moments. I stood there laughing at how simple it was, and honestly, how relieved I felt.

That tree was the first sign that I had permission to protect my energy and prioritize my well-being.

Women carry so much during the holidays, even if no one says it out loud. We monitor the house’s atmosphere to ensure everyone is okay. We plan the little things—the comfort, the mood, the details others don’t even notice. I have done it for years. But this December, something in me finally said, “Enough. You matter too.”

I know what it feels like to run myself into the ground. Many of us do. We stretch ourselves thin chasing that “perfect” holiday image, and when things fall short, it hurts more than it should. So this year, I made a choice: I am stepping away from all of that.

I am choosing a season that feels good to me—not one that looks perfect.

When I slow down, my body responds immediately. It is almost surprising how fast it happens. My breathing deepens. My shoulders fall. My mind shifts out of survival mode. Even my sleep changes; I drift off easier at night, don’t wake up with tension, and my mornings feel lighter because of it. These small pauses truly affect how steady I feel.

I have learned to accept that small messes are part of the holidays—the cookies that burn, the errands that take longer than expected, the last-minute changes. Letting go of responsibility for every hiccup helps me care for myself better. It helps me accept that the people I love want my presence, and my worth isn’t tied to perfection.

Listening to my limits has become a daily practice. When I begin to feel overwhelmed, I stop and take a walk with my beloved Havanese, Claudio. For years, I powered through everything, even when my body was ready for a break. Now, if something feels calming or gentle, I move toward it. If it drains me, I step back. It sounds simple, but learning to respect myself in this way did not come naturally.

Slowing down brings me back to the moments I used to miss. I hear the way someone laughs from the kitchen. I feel the warmth when someone hugs me and actually lets the hug linger. I notice how peaceful the house becomes once the day winds down. These moments mean more to me now than any perfectly decorated table ever could.

I have also been experimenting with my routines to find what actually helps me. When I have even five minutes to myself, I take it. Some days I sit quietly and breathe, trying to clear a little space in my mind. Other days, I listen to or watch a short podcast to help me reset my attitude.

Movement is essential to me. I’ve been doing morning workouts for years, and they have become part of how I stay grounded. Some mornings I get on the bike; other mornings I run with an online instructor who always seems to say something encouraging at the right moment. Starting my day with movement reminds me that my body is capable, even if the rest of the day feels unpredictable.

This year, I added strength training. I used to ignore it, but the older I get, the more I want to support my muscles and bones. These workouts make me feel solid in my body, and they also clear my head in a way cardio never fully did.

Food has become another simple way for me to look after myself. I still enjoy the holiday dishes I grew up with, but I try to balance them out now. I realized we don’t need heavy, complicated dishes to feel cared for. Sometimes we just need a bowl of vegetables and fruit, and enough protein to keep our bodies steady without feeling weighed down.

It’s not about rules, it’s about paying attention to what helps me feel good.

This holiday season, I am choosing a slower rhythm and a bit more confidence in setting aside the pressure to get everything right. I’m giving myself room to breathe, and it feels good to make choices that support my health and my mental and emotional balance.

What is one thing you want to do differently for yourself this holiday season?

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