Debunking the picture perfect family Christmas

By Maura Carey

Every year as Christmas approaches, something starts to stir for people. Not the lights or the shopping or the familiar songs on the radio, but something inside. A mix of excitement and pressure and the feeling that you should be looking forward to it more than you actually are. Christmas has a way of bringing our family story up to the surface, even the parts we thought we had moved past.

A lot of people tell me in therapy that they feel out of place at Christmas, or that something must be wrong in their family when everyone else seems to get along.

They look at images online or listen to friends talk about plans and wonder why their family feels different. Why it feels stressful. Why it feels heavy. Why it brings up old memories they would rather forget. And they ask the same question every year, why does this feel so hard when it seems easy for everyone else.

I often remind people that Christmas doesn’t erase what a family has lived through. It simply brings us together in a way that can make everything more visible. The good, the painful, the unresolved, the hurt that never had a chance to heal, the longing for something better. And sometimes the deep silence around things nobody wants to talk about.

Let me give you a sense of what I mean, because these experiences are far more common than you might think.

There is the person who walks into the family home and already feels the tension in their stomach.

Everyone is chatting but something feels off. Old patterns settle back in without anyone noticing. One sibling slips into the role of the responsible one, minding everything. Another becomes quiet, hoping not to be drawn into any disagreements. A parent tries too hard to keep everyone cheerful, even though they are exhausted inside. Nothing dramatic may happen, but the emotional effort of keeping the peace is draining.

There is the adult who carries both love and grief when they sit at the dinner table. Someone is missing this year. A parent who passed away. A brother living abroad. A relationship that broke down. The empty seat becomes a reminder of everything that has changed and the ache that comes with it. On the outside they smile, but inside they feel their breath catch as they look around the table.

There is the mother trying to create the perfect Christmas, worried she isn’t doing enough. She sees other families online posting matching pyjamas, flawless kitchens, perfect trees. She works herself to exhaustion trying to recreate it, wondering why she always feels like she falls short. What her children really want is connection and safety, but she can’t see that through her own pressure to be everything for everyone.

And there is the person who dreads Christmas because it means stepping back into a family dynamic that was difficult long before adulthood arrived.

Old roles return the moment they walk through the door. They feel judged or dismissed or not fully seen. They promise themselves every year that it will be different, yet the same patterns return.

They leave feeling tired and unsure of themselves, carrying a sadness they find hard to explain

If any of these stories resonate with you, it doesn’t mean your family is failing. It means you are human. It means your family has a history. And it means that when people come together, the emotional landscape they share shows itself, even if nobody speaks about it.

Christmas can bring joy too. Moments of tenderness. A memory that warms you. A conversation that finally feels honest. A feeling of being held, even briefly. Families are rarely one thing. They are a mix of everything that has ever happened inside them.

So if you find this time of year difficult, here are a few things to hold on to.

You do not have to pretend. You can show up as you are, even if you are tired or sad or worried.

You can take breaks when you need them. Step outside. Breathe. Give yourself a moment.

You can let go of the idea of the perfect Christmas. It is a story that doesn’t match most people’s reality.

You can focus on one small thing that feels grounding for you. One conversation. One walk. One person you feel safe with.

And most importantly, you can remind yourself that you matter in that space, even if it doesn’t always feel that way.

Families can be wonderful and complicated and painful, sometimes all in the same day. Christmas simply shines a light on what is already there. If it brings up uncertainty or anxiety for you, that is not a personal failing. It is a natural response to an emotionally charged time.

You are not alone in this. Far more people feel this way than you might ever realise.

And if Christmas leaves you with feelings you’re unsure how to hold, speaking to a therapist can help you make sense of your place within your family and the patterns that tend to reappear.

There is hope in understanding your story. There is strength in naming what has shaped you. And there is possibility for something gentler as you move forward.

Take care of yourself this Christmas. You deserve that.

Maura Carey bio

Maura Carey is the clinical director of Cherry Blossom Therapy, an integrative psychotherapist, clinical supervisor and lecturer. She works with children, adolescents, adults, couples and families, and is passionate about trauma informed care, relational healing and supporting people to step into their own inner strength.