Overthinking, self-compassion, and finding your way back to presence.
So⊠honest check-in.
Did we survive the holidays with grace and patience? Did we seamlessly deliver our best selves in every role: elf, Santa, parent, child, spouse, friend, in-law⊠all of the above? Are we fully hydrated and glowing from having spread magic, light, and love to everyone we encountered?
For many of us, my guess is⊠no.
If weâre being honest.
Many of us are dealing with a bit of an emotional hangover. Maybe weâre recovering from a month-long food coma while also carrying regret about something we didnât get quite right. The holidays have a way of putting family dynamics under a giant spotlight and there is certainly a lot of pressure.
And letâs be real – many of us are very ready for a fresh start.
Hello, 2026.
The holiday season can be magical and beautiful. We spend time with the people we love most. And because that love runs deep, so do the emotions. From a nervous system perspective, the holidays are basically a prolonged emotional high-intensity interval training session.
Or⊠a complete emotional cluster f*ck.
We have comfort food, nonstop social interactions, big expectations (mostly self-induced), and even bigger feelings. There are memories, traditions, strong opinions, and a long list of invisible rules youâre somehow supposed to keep front of mind.
Weâre all doing this side by side.
Everyone is tired.
Many are completely cooked.
Everyone is a little sensitive (or a lot sensitive).
And weâre all doing our best – fueled by cookies, caffeine, and a deep desire to make everyone happy.
Making all the people happy all the time? Not a thing.
Yet we still try.
Something inevitably goes awry.
We say or do the wrong thing.
We say or do the right thing the wrong way.
We snap when we meant to pause and be patient.
And then comes the fun part:
We walk away replaying the moment and proceed to beat ourselves up about it.
If any of this sounds familiar – welcome. Youâre a human being.
The Inner Critic is Activated
The conflict itself – the words exchanged, the best intentions gone sideways – is one thing. Apologies and forgiveness may be exchanged.
But then comes the aftermath.
The replay.
The rumination.
The mental directorâs cut running at 1:23 a.m.
Whatâs striking is how differently we treat ourselves compared to others. When someone else has a moment, we soften. We offer grace.
âThey didnât mean it.â
âItâs been a long year.â
âTheyâre overwhelmed.â
But when itâs us?
Nope.
No grace. No pause. Just immediate self-interrogation and a full mental ass-kicking.
When the Loop Starts
Iâve learned that rumination feels like problem-solving, but it isnât. Itâs my nervous system trying to regain control after an emotionally charged moment.
Few people can catastrophize a simple faux pas like I can. Iâm pro level. đ
That said, I do have a few strategies in my pocket.
When I notice myself looping, the first thing I do is name it:
âThis is rumination.â
âThis is my brain replaying, not fixing.â
In a word, this is mindfulness.
That simple act creates just enough space to choose a different response.
Sometimes I journal, not to solve anything, just to get it out of my head and onto paper. No polishing. No fixing. Just a messy brain dump.
Other times, I make literal space. Go outside. Take a walk. Breathe. Let my body catch up to the fact that that moment is over.
Choosing presence does wonders. In the present moment, the past and future donât exist and itâs often the most peaceful place to be. Itâs a refuge. And like anything else, it takes practice to find it on demand.
How I Get Out of the Loop
If Iâm still feeling stuck after naming it and moving my body, I turn to visualization.
I imagine sitting across from myself. Not the put-together version, but the tired one. The messy, human one. The one who tried her best and still missed the mark.
I picture wrapping my arms around her and speaking the way I would to someone I love:
You didnât intend harm.
You will learn from this.
You are still worthy.
It sounds simple, but the body responds.
The breath slows.
The shoulders drop.
The present moment opens again.
Our bodies are always listening to our thoughts. When we pause, breathe, and offer ourselves kindness and grace, the nervous system responds in kind. When we spiral or self-criticize, it reacts to that too. We have a choice and learning how to make it is a game changer.
Here are a few practices I come back to when I notice myself stuck:
Mindful Breathing
Inhale through the nose, take a small second sip of air, then let the exhale be long and slow through the mouth. A few rounds can signal to your nervous system that the moment has passed. I also use the Box Breathing technique quite a bit.
Ground through the senses
Quietly name what you can see, hear, and feel. Nothing fancy, just anchoring yourself in whatâs real right now.
Move your body
A walk, a stretch, or even shaking out your hands can help release stored tension and remind your body itâs no longer stuck in that moment.
Be kind to yourself
When the inner critic starts, gently counter it with:
Iâm allowed to be human. This moment does not define me.
Use scent as a tool
A gentle plug here. Using essential oil blends to ritualize calm and presence can be incredibly effective. Scent is one of the fastest ways to shift state, offering a direct line to the emotional brain. I explore this more deeply in The Nose Knows.
A Post-Holiday Reminder (Mostly to Myself)
If youâre carrying something from the holidays (or anytime really), a moment, a word, a feeling you wish you could redo, this is your reminder:
Youâre allowed to forgive yourself.
Youâre allowed to stop replaying it.
Youâre allowed to make space for yourself.
Growth is a lifelong journey.
Grace isnât something we earn after we get everything right. Itâs something we offer ourselves along the way so we can keep moving forward, softer, wiser, and still fully human.
With presence & peace,
Amy
