by Dr. Melissa Robinson-Brown, PhD (Dr. Mel)
I watched him dance around the kitchen island… and I can’t stop replaying it.
Four years ago, we were at my sister’s house for the holidays. My dad — in full goofy joy mode — took on a challenge from a game we were playing and DANCED around that island like the happiest man alive.
That was him. Silly. Willing. Joyful. A man who embodied a level of contentment most people spend their whole lives chasing.
And this year during holiday season? We’re driving “over the meadow and through the woods” to see family… and my chest is tight. Because this is our first holiday season without him.
And whew… holiday grief is a different kind of ache — the kind that shows up uninvited, sits next to joy, and says, “Hey girl… scoot over.”
The “Firsts” Nobody Prepares You For
People warn you that the firsts after a loss are the hardest:
- First birthday.
- First Thanksgiving.
- First Christmas.
- First “heavenly birthday.”
But nobody tells you what they actually feel like.
Nobody tells you:
- how the smallest memory can knock the wind out of you
- how you can be laughing one minute and swallowed by sadness the next
- how you think you’re okay until something — a smell, a song, a thought — reminds you you’re not
As a psychologist, I tell my clients all the time:
Grief is a nasty, disrespectful b%$ch. Nonlinear. Messy. Loud. And it shows up whenever it feels like it.
And holiday grief? It hits everyone — not just those mourning a death.
People are grieving:
- estranged parents
- broken relationships
- friendships that faded
- jobs that drained them
- lost jobs
- dreams that quietly died
- versions of themselves they desperately miss
If your heart feels heavy this season, you’re not imagining it.
This time of year amplifies everything.
What’s Actually Helping Me Navigate Holiday Grief (Right Now)
Not the polished, “self-care is a bubble bath” stuff. I’m talking about what’s actually keeping me upright these last two weeks.
1. Let grief show up.
You can’t outrun grief. If you try to push it down, it will come back louder and heavier. Let it have its space — not your whole house, but its seat in the corner.
2. Personify it. (Yes, really.)
My grief has a name: Iggy.
She’s a haggard, “The Ring”-looking woman walking beside me.
Sometimes she taps my shoulder…
Sometimes the b%$ch jumps on my back…
And some days she minds her business and sits in the corner. We nod at each other. I acknowledge her. But I don’t pretend she’s not there.
3. Don’t let her run the whole room.
Iggy gets space — but she does NOT get full control.
If I collapse into her, I know I’ll struggle to get back up. If I allowed it, I would spend this whirl holiday season sleeping…but I know that’s not how to deal with this ache.
So I sit with her… but I don’t surrender.
4. Anchor yourself to something that reminds you you’re alive.
For me, it’s the gym. Movement pulls me back into my body when grief tries to drag me out of it.
Every rep whispers: “You’re still here. You’re still living. And your dad would want that.”
For you, it may be special family recipes, solo holiday shopping trips, a day at the spa, reading your favorite book cuddled up by the fire. Whatever it is, lean into your anchors.
5. Cry + let people hold you.
I’ve cried more in the last two weeks than I have in months. And every tear has made room for breath.
Let people show up for you. Lean if you need to lean.
6. Read something that speaks your grief language.
I’ve been reading Notes on Grief by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.
When I tell you this book said things I thought only existed in my own head? And her experience is so similar to mine…I feel seen! It has held me in ways I didn’t expect.
Holiday Grief & Depression: What They Don’t Tell You
Here’s the clinical truth: Grief isn’t depression — but the two can intertwine.
Holiday grief can look like:
- low motivation
- irritability
- heaviness in the body
- difficulty sleeping
- waves of sadness that feel impossible to name
- feeling disconnected from people you love
If you notice these shifts in yourself, especially during the holidays, you’re not alone — and you’re not broken.
At Renewed Focus, I work with high-achieving women who carry grief and depression quietly because they’re used to being the strong ones.
Holiday grief can stir old sadness, trigger new waves, and make everything feel too loud or too empty.
And if that’s you? You deserve support, not silence. You deserve a space where you don’t have to hold it all together.
If you’re looking for that space, here’s where we do that work: Depression & Mood Support at Renewed Focus — culturally-attuned, real, and rooted in your lived experience.
You Don’t Have to Navigate Holiday Grief Alone
No one prepares you for losing a parent.
No one prepares you for grieving in rooms full of people who have no idea how deep your ache goes.
But you’re not the only one trying to hold grief and gratitude at the same time. You’re not the only one showing up to a holiday gathering with heartbreak tucked into your pocket. And you don’t have to pretend you’re okay.
These are the things keeping me steady in the hardest season of the year.
If you have things that help you cope, drop them in the comments — your truth might be the thing someone else needs today.
Your’s in Badassery,
Dr. Mel
