Practicing Self-Compassion in a Season That Isn’t Always Joyful

The holidays carry a certain mythology. They’re “supposed” to be magical, cozy, full of matching pajamas, giggling children, and perfectly curated memories. But for parents who have walked through pregnancy loss, infant loss, infertility, or long seasons of trying, this time of year can feel less like a celebration and more like a spotlight on what’s missing.

And one emotion tends to surface again and again: jealousy.

Let's be very clear. Jealousy isn't a moral issue- it's a human one. If you’re noticing jealousy rise up when you see pregnancy announcements, holiday family photos, or other parents celebrating traditions you longed to share—nothing is wrong with you. Jealousy is a signal from a deep part of you, not a character flaw. It points to the depth of your grief, your hope, and your love.

Parents who have experienced loss or infertility often carry invisible wounds- wounds that are protected by all sorts of emotions. The holidays, with all their emphasis on children and family, brush right past those wounds and sometimes press directly on them. Jealousy is simply one of grief’s languages.

Why the Holidays Can Be Especially Triggering

Social media is louder. Our feeds fill with matching outfits, baby bumps, and “our first Christmas” posts. Santa photos with kids crying because it's funny, babies swaddled in wrapping paper, pregnancy announcements in front of a tree. The list could go on  and on with how loud social media can be.

Family gatherings come with questions. Well-meaning relatives may ask when you’re “finally having kids,” unaware of your story. Maybe ignorant statements come from grandparents about wanting more grandbabies or statements like "Oh sweetie, just take your mind off of it and it will happen.

Traditions highlight absence. You may picture the child who should have been here this year, or the season you hoped would be different. Maybe last Christmas you thought was going to be the last one without your baby in your arms. Maybe this Christmas was the anticipated year that the positive test would finally come. Maybe the stocking you had monogrammed for your baby is just there with no one claim this year.

Comparison sneaks in. The curated moments of others can feel like a painful contrast to your own reality. The difficult job of trying to find authentic joy for others while holding immense pain or longing for yourself.

If any of these resonate with you, you’re not alone. And there are ways to soften the edges of this season.

Practices of Self-Compassion for the Holiday Season

1. Speak to Yourself the Way You’d Speak to a Dear Friend

Imagine someone you love looking you in the eyes and saying, “I feel jealous and ashamed. I wish things were different.”

You wouldn’t respond with judgment. You’d respond with warmth.

Try using phrases like:

• “Of course this hurts. Anyone in my shoes would feel this.”

• “My feelings make sense.”

• “I’m allowed to have a human reaction to a painful season.”

Self-talk isn’t cheesy; it’s nervous system regulation.

2. Create a Gentle Social Media Strategy

You don’t have to power through “for the holidays.”

You can:

• mute accounts temporarily

• delete the app for a few days

• set a time limit

• replace scrolling with something that nourishes you (a walk, a warm drink, a book)

This is not avoidance. It’s honoring your emotional capacity.

3. Set Boundaries Before You Need Them

If gatherings are hard, plan scripts in advance:

• “We’re keeping things private this year, but thank you for checking in.”

• “That’s a tender topic for us right now.”

• “I’d love to talk about something else.”

You are allowed to step outside, take a break, or leave early. Boundaries are acts of compassion, not walls, but protective blankets.

4. Make Space for Your Grief

Create a small ritual that validates what you’ve been carrying:

• light a candle for the baby you lost

• write a letter to the child you hoped for

• hang an ornament that represents them

• spend a few minutes journaling your heart without censorship

Grief doesn’t disrupt the holiday season. It belongs in it. Love and sorrow can sit at the same table.

5. Allow Joy Without Guilt

Self-compassion also means letting yourself experience moments of happiness without feeling like you’re betraying your grief or the child you lost or have yet to meet.

Joy and pain are not mutually exclusive. Opposing truths do not impact each other. They are unconditional and can be held without judgment or explanation and still make sense. Joy doesn’t mean you’ve moved on, it means you’re human.

6. Connect With Safe People

Share your feelings with someone who “gets it," a partner, therapist, support group, or friend who listens without rushing to fix.

You deserve spaces where your jealousy, grief, and longing can be held with tenderness.

A Final Word: You Are Not Falling Behind

The holidays are not a scoreboard or a test of worthiness. If jealousy is showing up, it’s because you are a person who loves deeply and has lived through more than most people will ever understand. 

Self-compassion isn’t about eliminating jealousy, it’s about meeting yourself with softness when it appears.

This season may be complicated, but you are not navigating it alone. Your story, your grief, your longing, and your hope all matter.

You are doing the best you can in a season that asks far too much of the heart, and that is enough.