Why I’m Wishing You a Mediocre Holiday Season
TL;DR: Holiday perfectionism keeps women trapped in over-functioning and self-care neglect. This season, give yourself permission to choose mediocrity. Burn the cookies (slightly). Skip the elaborate decorations. Say no without guilt. When you accept “good enough” during the holidays, you’re training yourself to protect your bandwidth all year long. For the purposes of this blog, MEDIOCRITY = GOOD ENOUGH!
Why mediocrity at the holidays matters:
- Holiday perfectionism stems from the belief “My worth is measured by how well I hold everything together for everyone else.”
- Choosing mediocrity during the holidays is practice for year-round self-care
- Store-bought pie, single wreaths, and slightly burnt cookies won’t collapse your holiday
- Permission to half-ass the holidays is permission to stop neglecting yourself
- Mediocrity is a survival strategy, not a failure
Why Women Struggle With Holiday Perfectionism
I grew up watching my mother wrap every single branch of our Christmas tree with lights.
Every. Single. Branch.
The tree could have doubled as a lighthouse beacon, visible from space. My then-boyfriend (now husband) laughed the entire time he removed those lights. He made me promise our tree would never require air traffic control clearance.
That memory came back during a conversation with a patient. We were talking about everything she needed to get done before the holidays. How exhausted she was. How tired she’d become of caring what people think.
She got quiet for a moment.
Then she said, “I just have to get to the f*$k it.”
That’s the whole thing right there.
Bottom line: Women are finally naming the absurdity of holiday perfectionism, but getting to “f*$k it” takes too long because of deeply ingrained beliefs about worth and performance.
What Drives Holiday Over-Functioning
Women in my medical aesthetics practice are laughing at the seen-from-space light displays. The 12-course dinners. The Martha Stewart-level crafts.
They’re realizing something: mediocrity is a survival strategy.
But getting there takes time. Too much time.
Because underneath all the holiday chaos sits one stubborn belief:
My worth is measured by how well I hold everything together for everyone else.
This belief keeps you:
- Wrapping every branch
- Making everything from scratch
- Saying yes when you mean no
- Apologizing for sitting down while everyone else buzzes around
The takeaway: Holiday perfectionism isn’t about loving the holidays. It’s about proving your worth through performance.
What Permission to Half-Ass It Looks Like
Here’s what I want for you this season: give yourself permission to half-ass it.
What this means in practice:
- Slightly burn the cookies and still serve them
- Put up one string of lights and call it festive
- Hand someone a gift in the Target bag it came in
- Say no to hosting without guilt
- Sit down while everyone else is busy and refuse to apologize
Here’s the truth: when you accept mediocrity during the holidays, you’re rehearsing something bigger.
The holidays concentrate every unrealistic expectation you carry all year. Be the glue. Make it magical. Keep everyone else afloat.
If you break the spell here, you can break it anywhere.
When you decide the store-bought pie is good enough, you’re exercising the muscle of permission. That same muscle works in March, July, and October when the demands of work, caregiving, and life pile up.
Why this works: The holidays are the pressure cooker where all your perfectionism lives. Break the spell here, break it everywhere.
Why Mediocrity Feels Like Relief
When you finish reading this, I want you to feel relief.
The visceral kind.
The unclenching of shoulders. The laugh that sneaks out because you realize you don’t have to keep performing at Broadway-level production values to be worthy.
Relief breaks down into three realizations:
- Mediocrity won’t collapse the holiday
- You stop being the glue without everything falling apart
- Presence matters more than perfection
That gut-level release is the crack in the armor. The moment you stop bracing for judgment and start tasting freedom.
The shift: Relief is proof your worth isn’t tied to performance.
How to Carry This Into 2026
My wish for the New Year is simple: carry forward the proof.
What proof looks like:
- Nothing collapsed when you chose mediocrity
- The pie in the plastic tin still got eaten
- The single wreath still looked festive
- The skipped tradition didn’t end the world
Once you see the sky doesn’t fall when you stop over-functioning, you start dismantling the year-round cycle of self-care neglect.
Three steps forward:
- Stop bracing for disaster
- Stop apologizing for resting
- Start protecting your bandwidth with the same ferocity you’ve protected everyone else’s comfort
Let mediocrity become shorthand for freedom, not failure.
If you carry this forward, 2026 won’t be another year of survival. It’ll be the year you finally start living on your own terms.
What to remember: The proof you gather during a mediocre holiday season becomes the evidence you need to stop over-functioning all year.
Frequently Asked Questions
Why is holiday perfectionism worse for Gen X women?
Gen X women grew up with models of perfection (like mothers who wrapped every branch of the Christmas tree) and absorbed the belief that their worth comes from holding everything together for everyone else. This conditioning makes letting go of perfectionism feel like personal failure.
What does “permission to half-ass it” mean during the holidays?
Permission to half-ass it means choosing good enough over perfect. Serve the slightly burnt cookies. Use one string of lights. Give gifts in store bags. Say no to hosting. Sit down without apologizing. These choices protect your bandwidth instead of proving your worth.
How does accepting mediocrity at the holidays help with year-round self-care?
The holidays concentrate all your unrealistic expectations into one season. When you practice choosing mediocrity here, you’re building the muscle of permission. That same muscle applies to work demands, caregiving stress, and daily life pressures throughout the year.
Won’t choosing mediocrity ruin the holidays for my family?
No. The store-bought pie still gets eaten. The single wreath still looks festive. The skipped tradition doesn’t end the world. Nothing collapses when you stop over-functioning. Your family needs your presence more than your perfection.
How do I deal with guilt when I choose to do less?
Guilt comes from the belief your worth is measured by performance. When you accept mediocrity and see the holiday still happens, you gather proof. That proof breaks down the guilt because the world doesn’t end when you protect your bandwidth.
What if other people judge my mediocre holiday efforts?
Let them. Their judgment is about their own perfectionism and beliefs about worth. Your job is to stop bracing for their approval and start tasting freedom. The moment you stop performing for others is the moment you get your life back.
Is this about lowering standards or protecting bandwidth?
Protecting bandwidth. Mediocrity isn’t about not caring. It’s about redirecting energy from performance to presence. When you stop wrapping every branch, you have energy left for the things (and people) who matter.
How do I know if I’m stuck in holiday perfectionism?
You’re stuck if you’re exhausted, resentful, and apologizing for sitting down. You’re stuck if you’re saying yes when you mean no. You’re stuck if you believe your worth depends on how well you hold everything together. Getting to “f*$k it” means you’re ready to break free.
Key Takeaways
- Holiday perfectionism stems from the belief that your worth is measured by how well you hold everything together for everyone else
- Mediocrity is a survival strategy, not a failure, because it protects your bandwidth and breaks the over-functioning cycle
- Choosing mediocrity during the holidays (burnt cookies, minimal decorations, saying no) is practice for year-round self-care
- Relief comes when you realize nothing collapses when you stop performing at perfection level
- The proof you gather during a mediocre holiday (pie still eaten, wreath still festive) becomes evidence the sky won’t fall when you protect yourself
- Getting to “f*$k it” means giving yourself permission to stop bracing, stop apologizing, and start living on your own terms
- 2025 becomes different when you carry forward the lesson: presence matters more than perfection
So here’s to a gloriously mediocre holiday season. Your cookies are slightly burnt, your decorations are minimal, and your expectations are blissfully low. You’ve earned this.
Now go burn those cookies. I’ll be right there with you.