I had a memory pop up on my phone from a couple of years ago and my daughter Aubrey and I were decorating the house for Christmas the day before Halloween.

Yes, you read that right. Before Halloween. 😂 We were enthusiastic that year!

I've always loved Christmas ever since I was a little girl. I remember sneaking up to the attic and pulling out the colorful lights with the spiky plastic covers and plugging them in. I’m a sucker for the trees, warm twinkly lights and cozy evenings. And for years, I’ve gone ALL OUT.

We're talking Christmas trees in practically every room of the house. 

But this year, as Halloween came to pass and I started thinking about dragging out all those decorations, I realized something.

I don't know if I want to do all of that anymore.

And it's not because I love Christmas any less. I still want the lights, the cozy gatherings, and all those little things that make the season feel special.

I just don't know if I have the energy to make it all happen.

Which brings me to something I've been thinking about a lot lately.

The magic makers are tired. We’re tired, ya’ll. 

The burnout I didn't see coming

Once my kids were grown and flown out of the nest,, I imagined I'd lean further into my career. Maybe pick up some new hobbies, travel more, get creative. Finally have the freedom to do all those things I'd been putting off for years.

What I didn't plan for?

I'd be too darn tired to want to do much of anything. 😂

Seriously. Burnout was NOT on my midlife bingo card.

And yet, here we are.

I think when we hear the word burnout, we tend to think about our careers. And yes, I've experienced plenty of that, too. After years of building and running a business, I've reached a point where I'm just not willing to sacrifice my health or peace of mind for work anymore.

But this feels bigger than professional burnout.

It's the accumulation of decades of responsibility.

From raising kids and managing a household, while building a career. Keeping relationships going, remembering ALL of the appointments, planning meals, anticipating everyone's needs, and carrying around that invisible to-do list in our heads.

And then there's the holidays.

The shopping and wrapping and decorating. The cooking and coordinating. Remembering who needs what, who's going where, and which traditions absolutely cannot be skipped this year!

For years, so many of us have been the magic makers, the calendar keepers, the ones making sure everything happens.

And I’ve loved SO much of it.

I loved creating memories for my kids and building traditions that became part of our family's story. Traditions they still come back for every year. 

But loving something doesn't mean it wasn't exhausting.

And now, as I navigate menopause and this new chapter of life, I'm realizing just how much I've been carrying.

I wonder how many other women are feeling the same way.

Not necessarily unhappy or ungrateful for the lives we've built. Just tired in a way that a good night's sleep doesn't always fix. (and if you have menopause insomnia like me, you’re not even getting that good night’s sleep!)

Learning to live with less and enjoy it more

This year, our family has decided to scale back gift-giving and focus on one meaningful gift for each other instead.

And honestly I'm thinking about doing the same thing with our Christmas decorations.

Maybe I don't need a tree in every room this year.  I can choose the decorations I love most, put those up, and leave the rest in their boxes.

Because here's what I'm starting to understand.

I don't want less Christmas. I want less work around Christmas.

I still want to sit by the fire with Craig, enjoy the twinkling lights, have the kids over, and soak up the season. I just don't want to spend so much time making everything happen that I'm too exhausted to enjoy it.

And honestly, I think this applies to a lot more than Christmas.

For years, I measured a good day by how much I got done. I was always doing, planning, creating, or figuring out what needed to happen next. Now I'm finding myself craving something I never really put on my to-do list.

White space. Ahhhh….

Unscheduled afternoons with long walks. Reading on the side porch and time to be creative without needing to turn that creativity into another obligation.

And I'm learning how surprisingly hard it can be to protect that space. Because when you're used to being productive, an empty calendar can feel like a problem that needs solving.

Making room for the spark to return

Here's something really cool I've started to notice. After a long stretch of feeling exhausted and honestly a little lost, I'm beginning to feel some of my old hope and joy returning.

Little sparks of curiosity, along with ideas I'm excited about. Times in my day when I find myself looking forward to something again.

For a while, I worried that maybe I'd lost that part of myself. The part who loved creating things, trying new experiences, and getting excited about possibilities.

But I'm beginning to wonder if she was ever really gone, maybe she was just TIRED.

And maybe the answer wasn't to push myself harder, find another purpose, or fill my calendar back up with activities until I felt like myself again.

I think I just needed to give myself permission to do less.

To rest without feeling guilty and to enjoy something without needing to be good at it. To create without turning my creativity into another job.

I'm learning that I can want more out of life without needing to do more.

And I don't think I'll always feel as tired as I have lately, I mean I REALLY hope not. I'm already starting to feel the shift.

I know there will be seasons when I have more energy and want to take on new things. I’m actually looking forward to that! But I hope I remember what this season has taught me too.

That I don't have to earn my rest. That my worth isn't measured by how much I accomplish. And that just because I can do something doesn't mean I have to.

Maybe this isn't about becoming a less ambitious or less creative version of myself.

It could be about finally making enough room for those parts of me to grow again, without burning myself out in the process.

A different kind of holiday magic

So this Christmas, there might be fewer trees and gifts. And definitely a little less fuss.

But I'm hoping there will be more of the things I actually love.

More evenings sitting by the fire and  time with my family. More slowing down long enough to appreciate the twinkling lights instead of rushing around making sure every last decoration is in place.

And maybe I'll wake up one morning and feel inspired to decorate another tree after all!

The difference is, I want to do it because it sounds fun, not because it's what I've always done.

I'm not giving up on the magic. I'm giving myself permission to enjoy it.

And after all these years of making it happen for everyone else, that feels like a pretty awesome gift to give myself. ❤️

This Week's Breadcrumb 🌱

As we head into the holidays, I've been thinking about how we can hold on to the things we love while letting go of some of the work and expectations surrounding them.

So here's my question for you:

What's one thing you're giving yourself permission to do LESS of this holiday season, so you can enjoy MORE of what matters?

Maybe it's simplifying a tradition, asking for more help, scaling back gift-giving, or leaving a few decorations in their boxes.

Or maybe you're rethinking something entirely different.

I'd love to hear what you're changing, what you're keeping, and what you're looking forward to enjoying a little more this year.

JOIN THE CONVERSATION IN COMMUNITY 🌱

xo

Alison

In Community This Week ❤️

There's something comforting about hearing from other women who are figuring out some of the same things you are.

Inside our Rediscovering Me Community this week, we've been talking about the different changes that can come with perimenopause, including the ones we might not have expected. One member shared how she's learning to plan her days around the energy she has, while another is noticing changes in her patience.

It's a good reminder that this season can look a little different for each of us. We're all making adjustments, finding our own rhythms, and figuring things out as we go.

And sometimes, it's just nice to have a place to share those experiences, ask questions, and hear how another woman is navigating something similar.

If you'd like to be part of these conversations, we'd love to welcome you inside.

Pull up a chair. I'll meet you inside. ❤️