Overwhelmed ~

The holidays are painted as a time of joy, connection, family dinners, and warm living rooms filled with laughter. But that is not the season I know. Far too many holidays I learned to be silent, invisible, and shunned. Many of my holidays felt quiet, uncertain — even lonely?

This year, I’m discovering how deeply true that can be.

I’m incredibly grateful to be back in California, back in rural living, and especially back in the Western Sierras where the mountains breathe and the pines feel like old friends. I walk trails, explore rivers, slow down, and notice the way nature holds space for reflection.

And yet — even surrounded by so much beauty — I’ve found myself feeling deeply lonely during the holidays.

This is the tension I want to talk about.

Holiday Loneliness Is More Common Than We Think

Many people don’t talk about how the holiday season can stir up grief, isolation, overwhelm, and uncertainty, especially during big life changes like moving, shifting careers, or rebuilding relationships. Studies show that holidays often increase feelings of loneliness and stress, even when things look “good” on the outside.

The article Feeling Lonely During the Holidays? You’re Not Alone explains why the holidays can trigger feelings of sadness and offers simple coping tools anyone can use. Why being among people can actually cause us to feel melancholy, lonely. It reminds me — and maybe you — that loneliness isn't failure. Sometimes it’s simply a sign that our heart longs for connection, belonging, or community.

Here in the Sierras, the benefits of nature on mental health have been palpable. The quiet. The earth. The slow pace. Research from Mayo Clinic shows that time outdoors reduces anxiety, strengthens mental health, and increases emotional resilience. I feel it every time I step onto the trail — the stress drops, my breath returns, my nervous system settles.

Nature is gently teaching me how to be still.

Not to rush ahead.

Not to overthink the future.

Not to outrun my loneliness.

But to be here.

I catch myself wanting to map everything out — five steps ahead, the future of my career, my next move, what success should look like. But something in me knows: control isn’t the cure for uncertainty — presence is.

So this season, I’m rooting into what I do know:

My work matters.

• Redeeming Stories Podcast
• Redeeming Hope YouTube
• 7pedals.com — my cloud collective for @redeem_thyself
• My socials + the slow, steady growth of the community forming there

These projects are not just “work.”

They are my ministry. My creativity. My healing.

They are how I connect, how I serve, how I keep moving forward — even when the path feels quiet.

When loneliness pushes inward, creation pushes outward.

It’s possible to feel grateful and lonely at the same time.

It’s possible to love where you live and still long for deeper relationships.

It’s possible to be excited about new beginnings and still feel afraid of the unknown.

The holidays don’t erase real emotions — they highlight them.

So instead of numbing the ache, I’m listening to it.

Instead of rushing the future, I’m tending to what is here.

Instead of hiding the loneliness, I’m naming it.

Because honesty can be healing — for me, and maybe for someone reading this who feels the same.

If you’re feeling lonely this holiday season, you’re not broken. You’re not behind. You’re not alone. You might just be in a season of becoming.

And like winter, becoming often looks quiet. Under the soil, the roots are growing. And there is more ahead, but we don’t need to have it all figured out today.

~ julie

If you feel so inclined, please reply with your thoughts.

Note: JM Lane is NOT a mental health professional, nor does she carry a license to practice medicine. Posts, blogs, and content are based on JM Lane’s personal experiences, perceptions, and reflections. By no means does any material convey what others should or should not do.