There are people who count down to Christmas. Then there are people who count their breaths.
Trauma has a way of turning home into something complicated: some comfort, some pain, and most of all, confusing. And when the holidays push you back into the spaces that once wounded you, the season can stir up more than memories.
I once heard someone describe their holiday visits home like this:
“Every time I walk through my parents’ front door, my body remembers who I used to be before my mind does.”
They talked about arriving at the house feeling good, even optimistic and hopeful. Within minutes, their breath increased, and they were suddenly monitoring the room the way they did as a child. The puzzling part was that nothing “bad” was happening. But the past was close enough that their nervous system responded before they could think their way out of it.
That’s how trauma works. It sneaks up through the familiar.
Why the holidays hit so hard
The nervous system doesn’t organise your life into the past and present. It works in patterns rather than timelines. Trauma researchers like Bessel van der Kolk often write about how the body “remembers” what the mind tries to move on from. A certain scent in a kitchen, a particular laugh, or the scraping of a chair across the floor are all tiny cues that can pull you back into an old survival state without warning.
The National Child Traumatic Stress Network explains that trauma memories often appear “sensory and emotional before they are logical,” which is why triggers arrive suddenly, even when the situation seems harmless from the outside.
And then there’s the pressure to “be fine”: show up, smile, smooth things over, ignore the knot in your stomach, pretend the past somehow resets itself every year. When your internal experience doesn’t match the script everyone else is reading from, the tension alone can leave you feeling off balance. Sometimes the hardest part is pretending you don’t notice how different you feel from the people around you.
When going “home” doesn’t feel like coming home
Not all trauma is loud. Many people grow up in homes where harm was quiet. Maybe affection was withheld. Perhaps unpredictability was just the normal. Or maybe you learned early on that your own needs were inconvenient, so you stopped naming them.
These environments shape the body and mind tremendously.
So when you’re back in them, even decades later, you may feel yourself slipping into roles you used to have:
The peacemaker.
The quiet one.
The emotional shock absorber.
You might notice your words get shorter, or you start tracking everyone’s moods as if that’s your responsibility, because it used to be. You may even hear yourself using an old tone that’s softer, smaller, one you don’t use anywhere else anymore. It’s disorienting because this version of you only exists in that house, with those dynamics, under those expectations.
The American Psychological Association notes that these responses are normal and that they’re deeply conditioned survival strategies learned early in life. During the holidays, those old rules have a way of resurfacing, whether you want them to or not.
Holiday triggers often carry grief
One of the heaviest parts of this season is the quiet grief that swims beneath the surface.
- Grief for the childhood you didn’t receive.
- Grief for the parent who couldn’t show up.
- Grief for the version of you who had to hold far too much.
- Grief for the family you imagined the holidays would give you.
This kind of grief may appear as a sudden tightness in your throat as you wrap a gift. Sometimes it’s the hollow feeling that follows a family dinner where you stayed small to keep things smooth. Sometimes it’s the pain of knowing that “home” is a word that has never really meant safety for you.
And sometimes the grief is confusing. You may love your family deeply and still feel the loss of a childhood you never got to have. Healing often requires holding both truth and tenderness at the same time.
You’re not “too sensitive.” You’re someone who survived
It’s common to blame yourself for being triggered: Why does this still bother me? Why am I not over this yet? But trauma doesn’t just go away. When healing, it’s slow and not linear. It takes time through support and nervous system repair.
Polyvagal Theory, developed by Dr. Stephen Porges, explains that our bodies constantly scan for danger or safety without our consciousness awareness. If your childhood home was a place of stress or unpredictability, your nervous system may automatically react, even if your adult self feels capable.
This is your body trying to protect you with the information it has.
Ways to stay calmer when the season feels like a test
Healing asks you to meet yourself where you are, not where you think you “should” be. These approaches aren’t meant to fix the holidays; they’re meant to help you stay whole inside them.
Have a plan that supports you, not the occasion. Choose how long you’ll stay, where your exit points are, and who you can reach out to for help if you need it. Giving yourself an “out” reduces the tension of feeling trapped.
Notice your early cues. Most people recognise their triggers too late. Instead, pay attention to the subtle signs: withdrawing from conversation, holding your breath, feeling suddenly tired. These signs mean your body is edging toward overwhelm.
Give your body simple pathways back to the present. Cold air on your face, breathing slowly, stepping into another room. These straightforward practices send your nervous system the message: I’m here now. The danger is gone.
Use boundaries without apology. You don’t need to explain or apologize for your boundaries. You’re allowed to protect your energy.
“I won’t be staying overnight this year.”
I’m not discussing that topic today.”
“I need a moment to step outside.”
Choose connection that feels like connection, not obligation. Maybe this year is smaller. Maybe it’s quieter. Maybe you create your own version of a holiday that doesn’t require emotional bending to keep the peace.
When avoidance is actually wisdom
If the place you’re asked to return to is the same environment where you were harmed, choosing not to go isn’t avoidance—it’s healing. SAMHSA (the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration) defines trauma as any experience that overwhelms your sense of safety or control. If a home still pulls you into that state, staying away may be the healthiest decision you can make.
This can feel “wrong,” especially if you grew up believing that family is everything and that family should be together on holidays. The truth? Those are not actual facts. They are beliefs that some adopt, and others don’t, based on experiences. You should not sacrifice your well-being for tradition.
Healing doesn’t make the holidays effortless, but it does make them honest
You may still feel sad or emotionally unstable this time of year, but healing gives you choices you didn’t have before. How you show up, how long you stay, who gets access to you, which patterns continue and which ones end with you.
You’re allowed to build a life where “home” is something that grows from the inside out.
Where safety isn’t a performance and belonging is authentic.
You don’t have to figure this out alone
If this season stirs up more dread than warmth, it doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong. It usually means the weight you’re carrying is too heavy to hold by yourself. That’s where real support matters. At Camino Recovery, we sit with people as they sort through the old patterns that still pull on them: where those reactions come from, what they’ve been trying to protect, and how to move forward without abandoning themselves in the process.
You don’t have to white-knuckle your way through another holiday. With the right guidance, the season can start to feel different, less like something to survive and more like the start of steadier ground. And when you’re ready to take that step, we’ll meet you there. Contact us today to start the conversation.
