It’s okay to be protective of your energy during the holidays.

You don’t have to attend every event.

You are allowed to reevaluate your traditions and only partake in the ones that you find meaningful or that bring you joy.

Having a chronic illness has forced me to be intentional in how I celebrate the holiday season. It is impossible to do it all when there isn’t enough energy. I have had years where I could only do the bare minimum, and years where even that was too much. For years I felt remorse for not being able to provide the perfect holiday for my family, and I judged myself harshly for my lack of festive joy.

We are bombarded with images of perfect holidays in every Christmas movie, in each carefully crafted social media post of smiling faces wearing matching festive outfits, and from ad campaigns designed to play on our nostalgic memories of Christmases past.

There are holiday parties, family gatherings, musical concerts, and Christmas lights to go see. There are cookies to bake, houses to decorate, presents to wrap, and carols to sing. You are expected to participate and enjoy it all, or you risk being a Scrooge or a Grinch.

It’s too much.

Even before I struggled with chronic fatigue I was exhausted by January.

I’m getting off this crazy holiday themed amusement ride. I’m nauseous, overstimulated, and it isn’t making me feel good.

This year I’m giving myself the gift of a guilt free holiday. I’m choosing how I want to celebrate the holidays. I’m choosing where I want to spend my energy, and I am determined not to spend it all.

I’m plugging in the string of lights that are still hung up from years past, because we forgot to take them down, and my ADHD brain turned them into background noise, forgetting they were still there. I’m putting up a life-size cardboard cutout of Hugh Jackman in the front window, adding festive touches like a warm winter scarf and Santa hat, because all I want for Christmas is Hugh.

I’ll rewatch the same Christmas movies as I get out the hot glue gun to make my yearly ugly sweater, a masterpiece of pop culture and Christmas carol magic.

I’ll do my part and eat the cookies that my husband and youngest plan on baking this year, and I’ll admire the gingerbread house design choices of whoever decides to open and use the kits we’ve purchased.

I plan on gathering with family and giving the biggest love filled holiday hugs.

I’m not going to feel guilty or Grinchy for not wanting to do it all.

I’m going to celebrate the season by settling down for a long winter nap instead.