Holding space for yourself: A sensory companion through the holidays

A textured pause for the tender-hearted

The holidays can be luminous - filled with soft lights, familiar music, and the comfort of ritual. But for many of us, especially highly sensitive people and deep feelers, this season can also bring overstimulation, emotional undercurrents, and invisible expectations that hum beneath the surface of celebration.

There’s a quiet kind of ache that can arrive in December. Sometimes it’s grief. Sometimes it’s exhaustion. Sometimes it’s the tension of trying to hold everyone else’s joy while not quite knowing where to place your own needs.

That’s why I want to offer something different this year. Not more advice. Not more pressure to be present or grateful or perfectly regulated. But instead: a sensory companion. A small, gentle way to hold space for yourself - not just in theory, but in practice. Through touch. Through texture. Through the body.

Because even when the mind is spinning, the body can be soothed. And even when you can’t change your circumstances, you can create small moments of self-contact. And those moments matter deeply.

What it means to hold space for yourself

We often talk about “holding space” as something we do for others. But what does it mean to hold space for yourself - especially in the swirl of holiday gatherings, emotional complexity, and sensory overwhelm?

To me, it means this:

Giving yourself permission to feel what you feel.
Moving slower than the world asks you to.
Offering yourself the kind of care you so easily give to others.
Not fixing - but accompanying.

And most of all, it means bringing your awareness into the body. Into breath. Into texture. Into the here-and-now.

Because the present moment - when approached gently - has a way of loosening the knots we don’t even know we’re carrying.

Why texture is a portal to self-contact

When I first began working with texture in my creative process, I wasn’t looking for healing. I was following curiosity. But over time, I realized that touching textured materials - especially those I’d created with my own hands - brought me back to myself in ways no journal prompt ever had.

Touch bypasses the busy mind. It offers feedback without language. It reminds you that you are real, here, embodied.

During the holidays, when emotions can feel complex or even contradictory, texture becomes a non-verbal companion. A soft cloth. A ridged ceramic mug. A raised line on a painting. These are not just things - they are sensory anchors. They hold space with you.

And when paired with intention or affirmation, they become even more powerful.

Sensory self-contact ideas for the holidays

Here are some gentle, textural ways to stay connected to yourself during this season. Please don’t see these as tasks to complete or rituals to perfect. Think of them as invitations - a menu of sensory options to dip into when you need a moment of you in the middle of everything else.

1. The pocket companion

Tuck a small textured object in your pocket or bag - something grounding, like a stone, a scrap of fabric, a hand-sewn sachet, or a piece of textured art. Whenever you feel overstimulated or emotionally flooded, hold it in your hand. Let your fingers trace the surface. Breathe. No one has to know you’re doing it. It’s just for you.

2. Textured wrapping practice

If you’re giving gifts, try wrapping them in textured materials—felt, craft paper with twine, soft velvet ribbons. Let yourself enjoy the sensation as you fold, tie, and smooth. Speak an intention quietly as you do:

“May I stay connected to myself as I give to others.”

3. Tactile affirmation cards

Create or choose a few short affirmations and write them on textured paper - something with fibers, weight, or handmade softness. Keep them on your bedside table. Each night, before sleep, choose one. Place your palm over it. Speak the words aloud or silently. Let your hand and your voice meet.

4. Scented texture with breath

Combine texture with scent: wrap a piece of linen around dried herbs, cinnamon, or essential-oil-infused cotton. Use it during a pause in your day. Hold it to your nose. Inhale slowly. Let your breath and touch move together.

5. Art as a holding practice

Create a simple textured collage or mixed media piece that represents what you’re feeling - not what you’re supposed to feel. Layer paper, paint, thread, or found objects. This is not for display - it’s for holding. Let it be messy. Let it be yours.

Remember: each of these is just a doorway. You don’t need to do them all. You don’t need to finish them. You just need to begin. Self-contact is not about doing more - it’s about meeting yourself in the small spaces where you already are.

For therapists, healers, and sensitive guides

If you hold space for others during this time - whether in therapeutic work, creative teaching, or simply as the emotional center of your family - please, dear one, let this be a reminder that you need tending too.

Offer yourself the same kind of sensory holding you might create for clients or loved ones. Don’t wait until you’re burnt out. Begin with small gestures. A soft blanket. A slow breath. A textural altar with natural objects that help you return to presence.

And if you’re supporting clients who are disconnected from their bodies or overwhelmed by family dynamics, consider inviting them into small tactile practices like these. You don’t need to be an art therapist to offer texture as a co-regulating resource. Sometimes, a piece of string and a kind word are enough.

You deserve a companion too

So many of us move through the holidays as if we must be both the giver and the glue—ensuring everyone else is cared for, held, and remembered. But who is holding space for you?

Let texture be that companion. Let breath be that companion. Let stillness - not silence, but softness - be that companion.

You are allowed to pause. You are allowed to feel. You are allowed to need.

And most of all, you are allowed to be held - not just by others, but by yourself.