Why the Holidays Feel Heavy: Grief, Family Trauma, and Emotional Wellness
- kimwatt
- Nov 28
- 3 min read
The holidays… a time filled with complicated feelings and emotions. Just like you, this time of year brings grief and sadness, yet also joy and so much gratitude.
Life is strange that way. Why didn’t we get the memo that your heart aches more the older you get?
As I reflected on Thanksgiving and how things have changed through the years, I thought about the beautiful new traditions as our family continues to grow, and yet the sadness that comes when I look back at where life has taken the people I care about.
I felt that familiar ache. The family and friends who have passed on, the holes in our hearts that never fully heal, and if you are a parent, how fast the years have gone, how much you miss those early days, and yet how thankful you are for the adults your children have become.
Even the relationships that had to end or now require distance and boundaries are part of this process, because you chose to love yourself enough to protect your emotional and mental health.
I don’t think people talk about that pain enough, the grief that comes with choosing peace.
How you can still deeply love people even though your circle has had to become smaller.
This year, I found myself thinking about the Native peoples of this land, specifically the Catawba Indian Nation whose land I currently live on.
For them, this day is a day of mourning, not celebration. And yet, gratitude is woven into their culture, not just one day a year, but every day.
Even on a day when our country continues to ignore their pain, they are still able to practice giving thanks, not by ignoring the tragedies, the tears, or the deep ache, but by honoring and embodying it all.
As I retell the story of Thanksgiving, I’m choosing to bring the truth to my family and to myself. Not just the collective truth of our country, the brutality and horror of colonialism, the murders of innocent people, the land violently taken, and the deep pain inflicted on Native peoples, but also the truth of my own generational story.
My history.
My childhood.
The reality that it wasn’t all “peaches,” even though I know some family members would prefer I stay quiet.
But this is my truth.
My story.
I’ve learned, and continue to learn, to hold both realities, the mourning and the gratitude.
I’m letting my body feel it all because feeling means I’m still living.
I’m still here.
And I’m choosing to speak honestly about my family, to not let anyone gaslight or rewrite my story, and to stop hiding the trauma, the dysfunction, and the grief.
Because healing begins with truth. Only then can we create a healthier future for the generations that come after us.
Being honest and walking through the pain is extremely hard. We often think it’s easier to suppress it, but it’s not, because it still comes out sideways if ignored.
So during this holiday season, it’s okay if you need to step away and cry. You’re human. You don’t have to pretend. But you also don’t have to stay there. Wipe your tears, take a breath, and look for the things you’re grateful for right in front of you.
Those little glimmers really do begin to fill the holes so they don’t hurt quite as much. Because love is always around us if we learn to look for it. It shows up in unexpected ways, and sometimes not from the people we hoped it would come from, but through new, beautiful relationships if we keep ourselves open.
As a Native Hawaiian, I’ve recently learned how similar our story is to the Native peoples of what they call Turtle Island, what Hawaiians call the Continent. And even though both our communities continue to struggle, and white supremacy and colonization continue attempting to erase us, I will honor them and my own ancestors by remembering this.
On a day when we are supposed to be celebrating, it is more than okay to hold both grief and joy together.
The holidays are filled with complicated feelings and emotions. Take time to be very kind to yourself.
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