I can still remember that December like it was yesterday.
Just weeks before Christmas, my phone lit up with a short, sharp message: “I’m done.”
And with that, so was the relationship.
The truth is, I wasn’t blindsided. We’d been fighting so much that the writing was already on the wall. Still, knowing something is coming doesn’t make the sting any less sharp. By the time the holidays rolled around, I felt drained, heartbroken, and in desperate need of a reset. So I took two weeks off from work and went home to Houston, Texas, hoping family time would help me heal.
But here’s the thing about breakups: no matter how many people surround you, you often still feel alone. My brother was backpacking through Europe, my sister busy celebrating her engagement, and suddenly it was just me, my parents, and my endless spiral of thoughts: What’s he doing right now? Did I push him away? Am I even lovable? Maybe I’ll end up alone forever.
As if heartbreak wasn’t enough, I caught the flu. It hit so hard that my doctor told me not to fly back for New Year’s Eve — the pressure could rupture my eardrums. So there I was, grounded in Houston, spending the holiday with my parents. I was grateful for them, truly, but my heart still ached. I vividly remember sitting at a restaurant on New Year’s Eve, watching couple after couple walk in, holding hands, glowing with affection. The sight was too much, and I excused myself just to cry in the bathroom. I thought to myself, I’m almost 30 and still can’t find the right person.
Now, years later, I look back on that holiday with more clarity. Painful as it was, it taught me some invaluable lessons. First and foremost: time really does heal. It’s a cliché we’ve all heard, but it’s also the absolute truth. Slowly, I began to let go of what was lost, and in that space of healing, I found someone better suited for me. Not long after I got back into my rhythm, I met Pedro — the man who, two years later, would become my fiancé and the love of my life.
But the story isn’t just about finding love with someone else. It’s also about the ways I found love within myself. Looking back, there are a few things I wish I had done differently, but there are also practices I’m grateful I leaned on — like journaling. Writing became an outlet for my emotions, a way to pour out the grief instead of letting it eat away at me. Those pages, many filled with tears, eventually became steppingstones toward self-discovery.
I’ve also learned that being single during the holidays isn’t something to dread. In fact, it can be incredibly freeing. I’ve had seasons where I spent the holidays single and genuinely happy. Sure, there were awkward moments when relatives asked, “So… anyone special?” or “When’s the wedding?” But once I stopped letting those questions get to me, I discovered just how much joy there is in having time to myself — time to grow, reflect, and simply be.
So, whether you’re nursing a fresh breakup or embracing singleness this holiday season, here are a few ways I learned to savor the season on my own terms:
1. Sleep in guilt-free.
The holidays are the perfect excuse to lounge in pajamas all day and watch your favorite movies back-to-back. (For me: The Holiday, Love Actually, Home Alone, and The Family Stone.) If you’re worried about looking “lazy,” buy yourself a set of silk pajamas — suddenly, you look chic whether you’re in slippers, heels, or even under a trench coat.
2. Write your heart out.
Good day or bad, I write. During that breakup, journaling saved me. It gave me a safe place to vent, reflect, and process the messy emotions. Some of my most honest, heartfelt writing has come in those raw moments, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
3. Create your own spa night.
When I lived in my first (and very run-down) apartment, I would draw a bubble bath, light candles, turn on Frank Sinatra, and let the breeze float in through the window. The bathroom may have been falling apart, but in those quiet, intentional moments of self-care, I felt deeply at peace.
Looking back now, I see that breakup as a turning point — painful, yes, but necessary. It taught me patience, resilience, and how to savor solitude. It reminded me that every ending holds space for a beginning. And when the right beginning did arrive, I was ready for it.
So if you find yourself single this holiday season, know this: it doesn’t have to be lonely. It can be a chance to rest, recharge, and rediscover yourself. And that, in its own way, is something worth celebrating.
