What to do when holiday affirmations don’t work
It starts innocently enough. You see the festive posts roll in - people lighting candles, reciting mantras of abundance, whispering affirmations under twinkle lights. “I am joyful. I am present. I am filled with gratitude.”
And maybe you try it, too.
You light a candle. You close your eyes. You speak the words. But instead of feeling uplifted, you feel… off. Unsettled. Maybe even lonelier. Like you're trying to talk your heart into something it isn’t quite ready for.
If this sounds familiar, you’re not broken. You’re not ungrateful. And you’re certainly not failing at being spiritual or positive. You might simply be trying to plant affirmations in frozen soil.
Why holiday affirmations can feel hollow
The holidays are emotionally complex - woven with memories, expectations, sensory overload, and layered timelines. They can stir joy and grief in the same breath.
For Highly Sensitive People (HSPs), this time of year can activate a deep inner landscape. And traditional affirmations - especially the bright, shiny kind that ask us to feel good now - can sometimes fall flat against that depth. It’s not that affirmations are wrong. It’s that the way they’re often delivered - fast, surface-level, and overly optimistic - doesn’t always match our inner tempo. Especially when we’re navigating family dynamics, overstimulation, or old wounds that surface with the scent of cinnamon and pine.
Sometimes, trying to force a cheery affirmation is like putting a sequin dress on a mourning dove. It doesn’t fit. And it doesn’t soothe.
The truth beneath the surface
If affirmations don’t seem to be working during the holidays, it’s often because they’re brushing against deeper emotional truths we haven’t had space to name.
You might be affirming peace, but your nervous system is still in alert from overstimulation.
You might be affirming gratitude, but a part of you is grieving what you lost - or never had.
You might be affirming joy, but your body is quietly carrying the heaviness of past Decembers.
The dissonance between what you're saying and what you're feeling creates friction. And friction doesn't make healing easier - it makes it feel further away.
So what’s the alternative?
Begin where you are, not where you wish to be
One of the most nourishing things I’ve learned through my art and sensory work is this: when we meet ourselves honestly, something softens. Even if we don't fix or change anything right away. So instead of trying to jump straight to "I am joyful," perhaps we begin with:
“I notice that joy feels far away today.”
“I’m open to a moment of ease, if it comes.”
“It’s okay to feel many things at once.”
These are still affirmations - but rooted ones. Slow ones. Ones that respect the terrain you're actually in.
They don’t bypass discomfort. They companion it.
Touch as an anchor
Sometimes when words feel slippery or false, the body still knows how to land. One of the most powerful ways I’ve experienced this is through touch - especially textured touch. The kind that grounds the words, gives them weight. Gives them place.
When affirmations feel disconnected, I pause and place my hand on something textured: a painting I’ve made, a swatch of fabric, the bark of a tree. Something that has lived, or holds story. I speak the words through the texture. I let the vibration of my voice meet the ridges beneath my fingertips. And suddenly, it doesn’t matter if I “believe” the affirmation yet. I’m present with it. I’m in relationship with it.
This makes the words less like commands and more like companions. Less performance, more presence.
Therapists, artists, and the power of permission
For those of you who hold space for others - therapists, facilitators, creatives - this season can bring a hidden weight. You may feel responsible for lifting others while secretly carrying your own end-of-year weariness. It’s easy to slip into the rhythm of doing, helping, fixing. But this too is a time to pause. To notice when your tools no longer feel like extensions of your intuition, but obligations.
If affirmations aren’t working in your practice or your sessions, consider shifting from the verbal to the sensory. Let texture, breath, or even silence become the medium. The body sometimes receives what the mind resists. And above all: extend permission. To your clients. To your art. To yourself.
Not to “be better,” but to be - without rushing toward emotional resolution.
What actually helps
So what helps when holiday affirmations fall flat? Often, it's not about doing more. It's about coming closer—closer to the body, closer to sensation, closer to truth. Sometimes, it’s letting an affirmation become a question:
“What would it feel like to experience peace for a breath or two?”
Other times, it’s abandoning affirmations altogether and letting touch do the speaking: running your hands across paper, clay, dried leaves, or an old knitted sweater that remembers who you were before all the noise. It’s creating a pause instead of forcing a breakthrough. And most of all, it’s letting yourself belong to your own rhythm—even when it’s quieter than the world around you.
A soft suggestion
If you feel like affirmations have failed you this season, consider this gentle invitation:
Sit with something textured—something humble and familiar. Maybe it’s a handmade ornament, the cracked paint of an old canvas, or even a patch of soft fabric you’ve carried through the years.
Place your hand on it.
Don’t say anything at first.
Let the moment hold you.
And then, if it feels right, say this:
“I’m still here.”
“I’m allowed to feel this.”
“I don’t have to rush into joy.”
These small truths are more than enough. In fact, they may be the very ground from which deeper healing can grow. There is no one way to “do” the holidays right. There is no emotional script you’re required to follow. If affirmations feel hollow, let them rest. If words feel like too much, let texture speak. Let presence be the practice. This is a time of great tenderness. And tenderness doesn’t ask you to shine - it asks you to stay.
Softly. Gently. Truly.
