The Weight of a Season That Demands Joy
The holiday season is marketed as warm, bright, and carefree — but the truth is far more complex. This week, people are standing in grocery lines hoping their benefits deposit in time. They are choosing between prescription refills and holiday meals. They are preparing dishes that remind them of people who are no longer with them. They are bracing themselves for the emotional pressure of difficult family dynamics, intrusive questions, and the expectation to smile through the pain.
Rogers says she feels that weight every year. As she prepares Thanksgiving dinner, she is flooded with memories of her late mother:
“When I’m in the kitchen preparing, I see my mother… I can smell the celery and onions on her hands.”
The sensory memory is beautiful — and devastating. She hosts, she nurtures, she fills her home with soft lights and blankets, but inside she admits:
“I’m torn.”
It is a familiar duality for many: celebrating outwardly while quietly surviving inside.
America Has Changed — And So Have Our Holidays
Armstead has watched the emotional landscape change dramatically, particularly in Black communities. Rising rates of depression, anxiety, and suicide among Black men, increasing stress in older adults, food insecurity among single mothers, and the exhaustion of caregivers are now common realities.
Many individuals, he says, don’t even recognize the symptoms in themselves:
“Sometimes people don’t know the name for what they’ve been going through… and they realize, ‘I’ve been depressed for 20 years.’”
The language for mental health simply wasn’t handed down in previous generations. People grew up hearing phrases like “nervous breakdown” without understanding the medical or emotional reality behind them. Now, as life pressures intensify, unaddressed struggles are resurfacing with force.
The Silent Burden of Being the “Strong One”
Bean’s story speaks to a much larger cultural issue: the invisible emotional labor of the person who is expected to hold everything together. As the eldest grandchild, she was seen as capable, steady, and resilient — even while she was quietly battling suicidal depression.
“It would feel like I was in Lake Michigan drowning. And they’d say, ‘Go home, you can swim.’”
Her honesty illuminates a truth many feel but rarely speak:
the people who seem strongest are often the ones suffering the most.
Bean found purpose in rescuing animals and visiting seniors, redirecting her care toward those who needed it. But this season, she is learning to protect her own capacity:
“I’m starting to love myself and tell people, ‘No… I don’t have time.’”
Saying “no” is not selfish. It is survival.
Throughout our conversation, the same themes appeared repeatedly — realities many are living right now, including this very week:
The chair that’s empty.
The recipe no one can replicate.
The scent that brings tears without warning.
Families trying to stretch limited benefits, rising grocery prices, and unstable income.
Pretending to be fine for the sake of tradition.
People who tend to everyone and everything except themselves.
Relatives who have moved away, relationships that have quietly unraveled, and gatherings that no longer feel familiar.
Symptoms that people have normalized for decades.
These realities do not make the holiday season less meaningful. They make it real.
Armstead encourages reimagining what the holiday can look like:
“For some people, the big meal may not happen this year. And that’s okay.”
It is okay to simplify.
It is okay to decline invitations.
It is okay to change the tradition.
It is okay to grieve.
It is okay to rest.
And it is more than okay — necessary — to acknowledge your emotional needs.
Rogers offers a powerful example: even as she battles her own holiday grief, she creates comfort for her guests through small, intentional gestures — warm colors, soft music, blankets draped over chairs. These acts do not erase her loss, but they build a gentle space where others can breathe.
That, in many ways, is the essence of holiday survival this year: small comforts, honest boundaries, and compassion — for others and for yourself.
This article is only a glimpse of the emotional honesty shared by PEER Plus. As the organization enters its 24th year, it continues to provide screenings, resources, food access, and community support at more than 70 events annually.
But the heart of this conversation is not organizational — it is human.
It is for the single mother trying to stay strong.
It is for the father silently grieving a parent.
It is for the older adult feeling unseen.
It is for the “strong friend” who needs someone to check on them.
It is for anyone who hears “Happy Thanksgiving” and feels something complicated inside.
This season, staying ready means acknowledging the truth:
holidays are beautiful, but they are also hard — and no one should have to navigate that alone.
The full conversation dives deeper into these stories, offering not just insight but solidarity and community care.
Listeners will find validation, permission, and connection — three things many need more than they realize.
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To listen to the full interview, check out the full conversation on the Stay Ready Podcast Now!