The Baubles of Christmas Breakdown

What happens when our boundaries are breached

First up, I love Christmas. Or at least, I used to.

I loved watching The Holiday (I know it word for word). Singing carols with my choir. The lights in London. The window displays in Fortnum’s. Pre-Christmas mulled wine in Borough Market with my girlfriends whilst we exchanged gifts.

Ahh I can almost taste it.

And then I became a mum – and I lost access to that Christmas. I felt robbed.

It was about expectations, people-pleasing when everyone wanted to see the babies for their first Christmas and it took hours of work to get them ready and in the van! he cute outfits and photoshoots the other mums pulled off.

We used to laugh at the Christmas card we got every year from our Canadian cousins – stiffly posed girls in matching red dresses with pigtails. We thought it must be a cultural thing.

Little did I know I’d feel the pressure to do this myself some twenty years later.

Our attempt at a Christmas jumper photo. Jerry was not impressed.

When we shifted from abundance to lack

What should be a celebration of abundance – the birth of a miracle baby, a story of love, magic and generosity (whatever your spiritual read) – has quietly become a story of lack.

Lack of time.
Lack of energy.
Lack of space to breathe.

During my student days, I worked the holidays in the fanciest of department stores in London: Selfridges and Liberty (which I still adore). One is on Oxford Street, and the other is just off it - the busiest retail street in the country.

I saw it first-hand: thousands of mums panic-buying presents, hunting down the hottest Lego set like trackers in the Sahara, that slightly wild look in their eyes from the desperation of the hunt.

I’d do whatever I could to make their lives easier; let them down gently when “must-haves” were out of stock.

And now, there but the grace of God go I.

Because there’s something about the Christmas to-do list: no matter what you cross off, more appears. An extra guest. Another invitation. Parcels arriving from people you forgot to buy for. And as the big day approaches, what I really crave is less, not more. Quiet not noise.

The baubles of Christmas Breakdown

Last year, during the F*** Mum Guilt Christmas special, I shared something I called The Baubles of Christmas Breakdown. Think of it as a Venn diagram of Mama’s Gonna Blow.

The danger zones:

• Not asking for help

• Social media comparison

• People-pleasing

• Over-spending

• Over-committing

These are the pressure points where Christmas starts to unravel.

What’s the one thing in common? Boundaries, or lack thereof.

If you catch yourself doing any of these, you’re out of alignment.
You’re saying yes when your body and heart are saying no.
You’re doing things that don’t actually feel right.

Which one hits home for you? Let me know below.

Last year, the most common bauble by far was over-committing.

Just this evening, my husband and I scrapped a trip to London next week for his work’s family Christmas party and the lights. It would be lovely – but we’re hosting the whole family a few days later, and it’s too much.

That’s what choosing abundance looks like now.

So consider this a PSA: keep these baubles in mind this December. Guard your boundaries like a mum trying to stop a toddler bolting out of a bookshop (true story from today – huge respect to the heavily pregnant mum who used her size to block the door while I paid).

And finally – an update.

I really miss our get-togethers, so I’m bringing them back.

In early January, I’ll be hosting a free webinar:

The Radical Reset: No More Putting Mama in the Corner

Because the most radical thing you can do next year isn’t setting a huge goal – it’s designing a year with you at the centre.

Not surviving on scraps of time and energy once everyone else has been taken care of (which is exactly how my year has felt).

So let’s come together to pause and ask: how do I actually want to feel this year?

Then design a realistic plan for making that happen.

Let me know if you’d prefer a lunchtime or post-bed-time session. Your Christmas wish is my command.

It’s crazy out there. Use my mum’s motto: Be kind to yourself.

Leila,

PS. Forward this to a mum you know with a lot on her plate right now.