The Holidays Are Exhausting. There, I Said It.

About this time last year, I blurted out something to my husband that I'd been holding onto for two decades. We were making our bed together one November morning—just a regular Tuesday—when it came tumbling out:

"I haven't enjoyed the holidays in about 20 years!"

Yup. I said it. Out loud. And my husband froze mid-pillow-fluff, completely stunned.

"But you're always so into the holidays," he said. "The decorating, the gifts, the cooking, the baking..."

He was right. I was ALL of those things. Which is exactly why I finally admitted: "It's exhausting."

The Holiday Machine I Built (And Couldn't Turn Off)

I don't know about you, but I've been single-handedly "creating" the holidays in my family for a very long time. I took enormous pride in it. I never even considered doing it differently—it was just what I did, who I was.

Every October, right after my daughters' birthdays, the holiday scheming would begin. Are we staying home for Thanksgiving or traveling? If hosting, who's coming? If going, where do we book? What about the dogs? (Because obviously the dogs' holiday plans are critical.)

Then came the gift planning. Oh, the gift planning.

I had this little notebook—and I'm not exaggerating when I say I kept it for YEARS—with everyone's names who needed gifts. The kids (Santa couldn't do it all, right?). My husband. Extended family. Friends. Random people like daycare givers, teachers, coaches, and yes, the mailman.

Each person got their own list. As I bought items, I'd put a little checkmark next to them, noting my successful purchase like some kind of Christmas reconnaissance mission. It's actually kind of fun to look back now and remember what each person got—even if they don't remember anymore. (Spoiler: They definitely don't remember.)

The Basement of Holiday Expectations

Then there was the decorating. If you're anything like me, your basement looks like a plastic storage container graveyard—full of garlands, lights, tablescapes, cute little signs, Santa bobbleheads, and nativity scenes.

I have it ALL. And over the years, I accumulated more and more. When we moved into our current house (which is much bigger than our last), I naturally decided I needed even MORE decorations to fill all that space. Because I NEEDED it obviously.

I bought decor at craft shows and Kohl's. I couldn't resist the seasonal sheets and blankets at HomeGoods (dear Lord, that store is dangerous). I even made several items along the way—because apparently, I had all that extra time just lying around!

The Holiday Production Schedule

Once decorating was handled, I'd focus on the events themselves. Food menus. Cute matching outfits for my girls to wear on Turkey Day or for church. I saved a million recipes on Pinterest and coordinated with my sister about who was bringing what.

I booked reservations and bought tickets to plays or Christmas events. I planned New Year's games (I'm notorious for this one—sorry, family). And then came the wrapping. Oh, the wrapping.

Game time!

While I love how it looks when it's done, I'm terrible at actually getting it done. The past few years, I've asked my husband to help. (Look at me, delegating! Only took me 22 years!)

The Question I Never Asked

Here's the thing, though: I never asked anyone for help. I never even asked if any of this mattered to them.

Would it still be the holidays if we just ordered takeout and watched a movie? Would anyone miss the homemade stuffing I labored over, drying bread out for weeks? Does anyone actually notice all the attention I give to each little trinket in their stocking?

And more importantly: Does anyone see that I'm completely exhausted?

The SNL Sketch That Hit Too Close to Home

A few years ago, there was a Saturday Night Live skit with Kristen Wiig called "Christmas Robe." If you haven't seen it, check it out here. It's funny in a particularly sad, hits-way-too-close-to-home kind of way.

I realized I wasn't so different from other moms. Yes, I even filled the DOGS' stockings. (Because obviously, Cooper needs a new squeaky toy wrapped in tissue paper.)

But here's the ironic part: I had never complained. Never said a thing. Until that November morning when it all came tumbling out.

The Permission I Didn't Know I Needed

My husband's response? "Just stop doing it then." (Men...)

Revolutionary concept, right?

I sat with that for a while. Could I just... stop? After finally saying it out loud, I felt a weird mixture of relief and regret. Yes, I was exhausted. Yes, I wondered if anyone truly appreciated it. But I also kind of... loved doing it?

It was part of my identity. The Holiday Lady. The one who made everything magical and special and perfectly coordinated. Who would I be if I wasn't her?

Turns out, that's the wrong question. The right question is: Who do I WANT to be?

Finding the Middle Ground

So this year, I'm doing things differently. I'm taking time for myself. Having a glass of wine (or two). Actually enjoying being with family and friends instead of orchestrating every moment.

OK, I did buy the dogs an advent calendar this year! I'm hopeless!

And maybe—just maybe—I'll skip giving the mailman a gift. (Sorry, mailman. I'm reclaiming my sanity, one unchecked box at a time.)

To My Fellow Holiday Perfectionists

If you're reading this and nodding along, know that you're not alone. The pressure we put on ourselves to create "perfect" holidays is real, exhausting, and often completely self-imposed.

Nobody needs matching pajamas. Nobody's keeping score of your Pinterest wins. And your family would rather have a present, happy you than a stressed-out, resentful you orchestrating a holiday production.

This season, let's give ourselves permission to do less, enjoy more, and remember that the magic isn't in the perfectly wrapped gifts or the homemade everything—it's in the time we spend together.

Even if that time includes takeout and elastic waistbands.

What holiday traditions are you letting go of this year? Or are you, like me, still figuring out how to stop being the Holiday Martyr? I'd love to hear your stories!