When When Holiday Stress Turns You Into the Version of Yourself You Swore You’d Never Be

Let me confess something: My husband and I have fought every single day last week.
Every. Day.

Not big dramatic fights, just the slow-burn “I’m irritated by your existence” kind.
The ones where you start questioning why he chews like that or why he loads the dishwasher like he’s trying to get arrested.

We’re tired.
We’re stressed.
We’re cold.
And honestly? We’re BOTH acting like gremlins who got fed after midnight.

Everyone loves to say,

“We take out our anger on the people we’re closest to.”
Yeah, okay.
Cute quote.
Still sounds like an excuse to be a jerk.

Because here’s the truth: Communication is the answer.
And yet, it’s nearly impossible to communicate a full sentence when you have 700 tabs open in your brain and every single one is flashing red.

Like, what am I supposed to say?

“Hi babe, I’m annoyed because:

1. work is heavy

2. the kids need everything

3. laundry is eternal

4. I haven’t sat down since April

5. I’m overstimulated

6. I’m freezing

7. I’ve forgotten my own name

8. you breathed wrong.”

That’s not communication.
That’s a novella.

Here’s what my nights look like lately:

Work all day.
Cook dinner.
Laundry.
Be cheerful for the kids because God forbid I traumatize them with my “I’m on my last thread” energy.
Bath time.
Bedtime.
Then boom, I’m supposed to magically transform into a warm, emotionally present wife who wants to connect.

Girl… connect WHAT?
I barely have brain cells left to connect Bluetooth.

And listen: Ryan and I are usually good at saying what we need.
We really are.
But this past week?
OFF. Like… way off.
We’re talking “two parallel universes texting each other” off.

Holiday stress will do that to you.

It sneaks in like, “Oh hey, mind if I just casually destroy your patience, overwhelm your schedule, and pit you against your spouse for sport?”

Because it’s not actually him.
And it’s not me.
It’s December.
The month where joy and burnout coexist like divorced parents trying to be civil at the school play.

So here’s what I’m reminding myself:
Find an outlet.
Something. ANYTHING. That lets you breathe.
A walk.
A drive.
A cry in the shower.
A nap you refuse to apologize for.
A Michael’s stroll where you pretend you have your life together.

And don’t forget your needs.
Don’t bury them under everyone else’s chaos.
You matter too, not just as mom, wife, boss, planner, peacekeeper, chef, therapist, or human noise-canceling machine.

Just YOU.

Holiday stress is temporary.
Your relationship is bigger than this season.
And sometimes “I’m sorry I snapped, I’m overwhelmed” goes a long way, for both of you.

Ryan and I will get through this.
You will too.
We’re not broken, we’re just December-ing.