Surviving Christmas: Should You Go or Stay?

Sometimes the bravest answer is the one that protects you.

Christmas can be a really painful time, and sometimes we must decide whether it's better for us to go or stay alone.

The Christmas Nobody Talks About

Christmas is supposed to be magical. Families hugging. Warm lights. Laughter. Love.

That's what we see everywhere—in commercials, movies, Instagram posts.

But for some people, Christmas doesn't feel warm. It feels heavy.

Every year, they ask themselves the same question:

Do I go, or do I stay away?

Not because they don't want connection. But because their family wasn't built on safety.

For them, "family time" might mean:

• Old wounds reopening

• Drama nobody acknowledges

• Sitting across from someone who hurt them

• Pretending everything is fine when it's not

If your stomach just tightened reading this, this article is for you.

You're Not Overreacting

Let me say this clearly:

You are not overreacting.

You are not ruining the mood.

You are not the problem.

You are not the only one carrying this.

And you are not wrong for wanting peace instead of pretending.

When Tradition Becomes a Trap

I worked with a woman I'll call Kate. Strong, thoughtful, high-functioning.

She came to therapy in December and said quietly: "I don't know what I'll do this Christmas."

Her family wanted to invite her grandfather—the man who sexually abused her as a child. They knew about the abuse. But they wanted her to forgive him "for the sake of the family."

Kate faced an impossible choice:

Stay home and absorb their anger and disappointment.

Or go and sit next to her abuser while everyone pretends it's all okay.

Kate isn't alone. Every December, the same conversations fill therapy rooms.

The Myths We Carry

Many people raised in difficult families carry two quiet beliefs:

"Maybe this year will be different..."

"Maybe if I explain it right, they'll finally understand..."

"Maybe I can fix this if I just act the right way..."

This hope comes from something they were taught as children:

"I am responsible for other people's emotions."

They heard things like "Look what you made me do," "You made me angry," "It's your fault that..."

These sentences created a powerful illusion: that if you say the right thing or act the right way, they'll change.

I wish this came true more often.

But here's the truth: Christmas almost never transforms an abusive system. It usually just repeats it.

The deepest pain doesn't come from the conflict itself. It comes from hoping this one day will magically fix years of hurt—and discovering again that it won't.

So let me say this clearly:

No. You are not responsible for their emotions.

No. You cannot change them through your reactions.

No. You cannot convince someone to grow if they're committed to staying the same.

The Real Shift

Sometimes the most healing move isn't finding better words. It's stepping out of that old spell and saying:

"This year, I'm making the decision. And I'm owning it."

Not "I have no choice."

But "I have a choice. And I'm choosing."

Sometimes that choice means staying away.

Sometimes it means showing up without illusions.

Sometimes it just means deciding based on your values, not guilt.

Even if nothing changes on the outside, something huge changes inside:

You stop reacting. You start choosing.

That's where healing begins.

If You Choose to Go

Go with clear eyes, not false hope.

Don't go expecting a miracle. Don't go thinking you'll finally fix them or make them understand.

Go because you have a reason that feels right to you. Maybe:

• There's someone at the table who feels safe

• You want closure for yourself

• You can emotionally handle it this year

• It aligns with your values

Show up with intention, not surrender.

If You Stay Home

Yes, they may be angry. Let them.

You are not responsible for their emotions.

This isn't selfishness. It's self-respect. Sometimes it's self-survival.

Don't argue. Don't justify. Don't explain yourself into exhaustion.

A boundary stated once and backed by action is enough.

The Goal Isn't Harmony at Any Cost

The goal is integrity.

Choose the path whose consequences you can meet without losing yourself.

Neither option is perfect. But one will feel like less self-betrayal—the one your nervous system, heart, and mind can actually bear.

How to Make It Gentler

Set boundaries and keep them

If you say "I'll leave if they start drinking," then leave when it happens. Don't negotiate. Don't wait for permission.

Your boundary might not change them. But it will change something bigger: your trust in yourself.

Find connection outside the system

Text a safe friend. Plan a check-in call. Healing doesn't require shared DNA—it requires shared safety.

Give the day meaning on your own terms

If you spend Christmas alone, it's not failure. Buy yourself something you want. Cook food you enjoy. Light a candle. Create even one moment that says: "I matter."

The One-Person Rule

Here's what I tell my clients:

"Make at least one person happy with your decision."

If your family will be upset no matter what you choose, stop trying to win an unwinnable game.

If everyone else insists on being unhappy, don't join them there.

Choose the option that protects you. Make at least one person feel relief and peace:

Yourself.

And sometimes that's not only enough. Sometimes it's the beginning of everything better.

Three Simple Questions

Ask yourself gently:

1. Which option lets me breathe?

2. Which consequence is easiest for my nervous system to handle?

3. Which choice preserves my dignity?

Then choose that one.

There is no universally "right" or "wrong" Christmas decision.

There are only:

• Unconscious choices that drain you

• Conscious choices you can emotionally carry

Christmas is a cultural idea—not a contract that obligates your suffering.

The bravest answer isn't always the loudest. Sometimes it's simply the one that protects you. So take care of yourself.