The Real Holiday: Permission to Be Imperfect

You're in the car outside the gathering, scrolling through your phone one more time before going in. Inside, there are both the people you love and people who exhaust you. Conversations you're dreading. And then there’s the performative energy you'll need to summon when you have so little left to give.  A silent scream is emerging.

The holidays bring mixed feelings to most of us. Excitement and melancholy. Grief for those we've lost. Anxiety about social expectations. And if you're an introvert or neuro-divergent, the overwhelm can feel impossible to avoid. We know there will be personality conflicts, political minefields, and old wounds that resurface. Why should we have to act like someone we're not?

If you’re like most people, much of our holiday stress comes not from the events themselves, but from the stories we tell ourselves beforehand. We project conversations that haven't happened. We script disasters and brace for judgment—our own and others'. We drain ourselves before we even walk through the door.

The Permission Framework

One of the most powerful tools I've learned, both as a performing arts instructor and a coach, is that when we give ourselves permission to make mistakes, we usually make fewer. It sounds counter-intuitive, but it works because the pressure to be perfect is exactly what sets us up to fail.

So what if you approached these gatherings differently?

Give yourself permission: to have a good time, to listen more than you speak, to walk away from heated debates, to feel awkward, to not have all the right things to say, to leave when you choose, to be yourself—imperfect and honest.

Give others permission too: to be imperfect like you, to be awkward or annoying at times, to hold perspectives different from yours, to be themselves. We can't change anyone else, but the energy we bring influences how they show up around us. If you're waiting for someone else to change before you can enjoy yourself, that's a self-imposed barrier. You’re giving your power and happiness away – take it back.

When You're in the Room

Your inner critic might be whispering that you're 'not one of them,' that you don't measure up, that you'll say something stupid. Here's what I know: there's likely a room full of people feeling the same way. They just show it differently. Or find me—I'm one of them.

Keep things simple. You don't need to be fascinating or impressive. Connection happens in small moments, not grand performances. Relationships are built in layers over time. Ask genuine questions. Give space for them to answer.  Notice when you're placing expectations on yourself or others—that's usually where the exhaustion comes from, not the gathering itself.

The Real Gift

People drain themselves less by the holidays than by the expectations that wear us down to be someone other than who we are. The real holiday might be the break we give ourselves from that exhausting performance, from the judgment that keeps us isolated.

What if, just for these gatherings, you put down that weight? What if you showed up as you are and let others do the same? Embrace the fact that people are perfectly imperfect and constantly in process. We can help or hurt that process.

That's the gift worth giving—to yourself first, then to everyone else in the room.

What permission will you give yourself this season?