A couple years ago, leading up to Christmas I woke up with overwhelming sadness. It’s frustrating, I’m not going to lie. As an extremely happy person with an insane amount of blessings in life, it’s hard to feel sad and not feel in control of my happiness. Especially over the holidays.

And I was scared when writing this I’d come off bitter, cynical and make people around me feel uncomfortable. And maybe I will. But maybe one person who is feeling the exact same way as me will find peace.

But right before that particular Christmas, a few years ago, I was out for drinks with a good friend of mine and she said to me that she thought her best friend was winning at life because she was married. It baffled me that she thought this. MY friend was the one winning at life in my eyes – kick ass career, ton of friends, literally one of the funnest people I know – I could go on forever. Maybe she wasn’t married, but I’d pick her life over her friend’s marriage in a heartbeat. And that conversation reminded me of the hierarchy on accomplishments society sets for us. Husband, house and kids mean you’ve made it in life. And hearing that example out of my friend’s mouth made it that much more real. Wow, people do feel that way. That’s when I realized the holidays can suck. It’s a time when reality comes into the limelight. The holidays are like milestone checkpoint. A clear reminder of where you were at this time last year and where you thought you’d be this year.

You may have said to yourself last year,

• “I won’t be single on Christmas next year”
• “This time next year I’ll have a baby”
• “I will have a better job by next year”
• “I will finally lose the weight this year”

But here you are, another holiday and these things haven’t happened. Worse, they are exactly the same.

Whether you are grieving the loss of a child, the loss of a 14 year relationship, the loss of a parent to dementia or the loss of a job, you are in mourning. And the holidays make you want to mourn even more. No holiday card or cookie can change that.

For me, at that time, I was one of the millions of women struggling with pregnancy loss. I wouldn't have my bab(ies) to share the holidays with either. And the year prior after already having suffered one pregnancy loss, I remember in sadness saying to my husband, we’ll have a baby by next year. But the holidays came and we’ve suffered two more losses. And it’s sad. And no matter how hard you try to make it not sad, it’s sad. My ignorant self growing up never in 1 million years pictured myself in this situation.

Anyone who has ever struggled with pregnancy loss or infertility knows it’s a silent struggle. One that only you and your partner can understand. I personally also put women who decide not to have kids in this category because I find myself reading stories from these woman and feel a connection. A secret sisterhood against society. Anyone battling the upward current of societal standards knows how hard the holidays are.

And it's not just the holidays. It's any and every family or friend gathering.

So, what can you do to survive in a way that doesn’t involve eating your feelings or self-medicating with cookies?

First of all, be selfish. You might not be able to avoid every family gathering but you may be able to skip some. That’s ok.

Most importantly, take time to identify how you REALLY feel. Don’t soften the blow or try to justify why you feel the way you do. If you’re pissed off say WHY. If you’re sad, explain to yourself why. And if you simply want to lay on your couch with a bowl of M&Ms in your jammies crying while watching a string of lifetime movies, that’s ok. Just make sure you take some time to write down why.

Just acknowledging ahead of time that the an upcoming holiday or event will be difficult can help. That way, your feelings won’t take you by surprise. One minute you MAY feel like Clark Griswald when that house finally lit up and the next minute you are the Grinch. Again, that’s ok. It’s normal.

It may sound counter intuitive, but admitting certain things like the holidays suck, kind of make them happier. My beautiful rainbow daughter Penelope is here now. And every holiday since she's become part of me I take a moment to silently think of the people who may be struggling to smile. I was there. And I may be there again.