🌟 Grief at Christmas: How I’m Finding Light Again (One Glow Session at a Time)

December hits differently after you lose someone you love. The lights are brighter, the music is louder, the decorations seem extra… extra. But inside? Everything feels a little softer, a little heavier, a little dimmer — like your heart is moving through the month with the lights turned down low.

The holidays have their own rhythm: the gatherings, the traditions, the sparkle everywhere you look. But when grief enters the room, it changes the beat. Suddenly, the sounds of the season feel too big while the silence feels too deep. And you find yourself caught between wanting to participate… and wanting to hide under a blanket until January.

This year, as the world happily slips into holiday mode — cozy sweaters, sparkly streets, Christmas movies playing nonstop, and “All I Want for Christmas” echoing through every store — I’m moving through a very different season.

A season of remembering. A season of missing. A season of trying to hold joy and sadness in the same body without feeling like I’m being pulled in two directions at once.

It's a season where a simple ornament can bring back a memory so vivid it stops you mid-step. Where a familiar song can suddenly crack something open inside you. Where traditions you used to love now carry a bittersweet ache. Where joy feels allowed… but complicated.

And honestly? It’s messy. It’s unfiltered. It’s emotional in ways I never expected.

But it’s also incredibly real. Raw. Human.

And that's exactly why I wanted to write this December blog — because so many people are moving through this month with full hearts, broken hearts, hopeful hearts, and everything in between.

Because December isn’t just about the lights outside —it’s also about the light we’re trying to find inside.

And sometimes? Sometimes that light flickers.

But it’s still there. And that’s what I want to talk about this month — grief, healing, rituals that help, moments of unexpected joy, and the ways I’m learning to move through the holidays with grace, honesty, and as much softness as I can offer myself.

This December isn’t just about celebration for me —it’s about honouring, remembering, breathing through the ache, and choosing tiny moments of light… even when they’re hard to see.