The Holidays Don't Care About Your Capacity
- Dr. Shari Nicole
- Dec 23, 2025
- 11 min read
But You Certainly Should
A peculiar kind experience comes from being good at things. People notice your competence, your ability to hold it together, your track record of getting it done. The family group chat lights up with another holiday coordination question. Your boss sends one more “quick favor” email at 7 p.m. A friend needs advice, your neighbor needs a hand.
And even when you’re exhausted you keep being dependable. And so they keep asking. When you’re good at the things, the world demands that you sign up, show up, and somehow still have energy left for the life you’re actually trying to build.
I know this experience intimately. I’ve lived it. Still living it, actually.
And here’s what nobody tells you…
The Holiday Season Doesn’t Care About Your Capacity
If there’s ever a time when boundaries feel impossible, it’s now. The holidays arrive with their own gravitational pull, expectations stacked on traditions stacked on obligations. There are meals to plan, gifts to buy, travel to coordinate, family dynamics to navigate.
And if you’re already running on fumes? If you’re already feeling that flatness where passion used to live? The holidays don’t care.
This year, I’m planning a wedding on the other side of the world while my family expects me at Christmas like always. I’m learning to say sentences in a new language while someone’s asking what I’m bringing to the Ugly Sweater Party. I’m building a life that looks nothing like the one I stabilized years ago, and the world still wants me to show up like nothing’s changed.
But here’s what has changed: I don’t have the same energy I used to. Things that once felt meaningful now feel heavy. Commitments I used to embrace now drain me before I even begin. It’s not laziness. It’s not weakness. It’s burnout.
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Maybe you know this feeling too. That thing you used to love (your job, your community involvement, even your hobbies) suddenly feels like one more obligation. You’re going through the motions, but the spark isn’t there. You’re showing up, but you’re not really present. You’re doing everything you’re supposed to do, and somehow it’s still not enough. Not for them. Not for you.
The holiday season operates on the assumption that you have infinite time, infinite emotional bandwidth, and infinite enthusiasm for everything and everyone. Although we’d never admit it, we secretly imagine this time of year will energize our drained batteries just in time to make it through. Like if we can just push through the parties and the obligations and the performances, we’ll somehow come out the other side restored. But burnout doesn’t take a holiday break.
It doesn’t account for the fact that you might be rebuilding your life, recovering from giving too much for too long, or simply trying to remember what you actually care about underneath all the noise.
So if you’re feeling the weight of it all right now, the requests, the demands, the silent expectations, and that hollow feeling where joy used to be, you’re not failing. You’re just awake to what’s actually happening.
Pause here: What’s one holiday tradition or expectation that’s draining you this year? What would it feel like to let it go? Drop your thoughts below, let’s normalize honest conversations about capacity.
What Burnout Actually Is
I’ll admit, some of my to-do list is by my own choosing. I made a choice that nobody expected, not even me. A choice that means I’m living between two continents, two cultures, rebuilding everything I thought I’d figured out.
But before that choice, there was the slow erosion. The realization that I was checking boxes without feeling anything. That I was tired in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. That I’d been running so long on what I was supposed to want that I’d lost track of what I actually wanted.
Here’s what I’ve learned about burnout, it’s not just about being tired. It’s what happens when the gap between what’s being demanded of you and what you have to give becomes a monumental misalignment. It’s the slow leak of passion, the loss of investment in things that used to matter, the feeling that you’re performing your own life instead of living it.
hispers that you don’t care anymore. But the truth? You care so much that caring has cost you everything.
Think of it like this: if demands keep piling up while your energy, time, and sense of purpose steadily decrease, something has to give. You feel it in your chest, in the tightness of your jaw, in the way simple decisions feel impossible, in the way you snap at someone you love over something small. That’s not a personal failing. That’s what happens when you’ve been running on empty for too long.
The solution isn’t to power through. It’s not to optimize your calendar or find more hours in the day. Sometimes the most radical thing you can do is admit that you need to decrease the demands or increase your resources. Or both.
What’s Really Happening Here?
Before you can shift anything, you have to see it clearly. Not the story you’ve been telling yourself about what you should be handling, but what’s actually true right now.
I had to do this recently. Sat down and looked at everything. The visa paperwork, the language lessons, the work projects, the dog who needs more from me since I’ve been so busy, the disconnect and loneliness that stems from those who don’t understand this process, the wedding details, the everyday demands that don’t pause just because your life is in transition.
And I had to get honest about the fact that I was burned out. That some of the things I used to love doing felt like weights. That I didn’t have the same capacity I had a year ago, and pretending I did was making everything worse.
So pause. Take stock. Not just of what’s on your plate, but of how you’re actually feeling about it.
Real talk moment: Take 30 seconds right now. What are you carrying that you never actually agreed to carry? I’ll go first in the comments. Your turn. 👇🏾
What are the demands on you right now? Not just the calendar items. The emotional labor, the mental load, the invisible work of keeping everything running, the things you do because you’ve always done them even though they don’t fill you up anymore.
And then the harder questions:
Where has the passion gone?
What used to light you up that now just feels like effort?
What are you investing in out of obligation rather than desire?
What are you carrying that you never actually agreed to carry?
This isn’t about judgment. It’s about finally being honest. You can’t design boundaries if you won’t admit that you’re already past your limit.
Getting Clear on What You Actually Want
This is the question that stops people cold. Because when you’re burned out, when you’ve been running on autopilot for so long, you might not even know what you want anymore. You just know you can’t keep doing this.
I’m building a marriage. A bicultural, bi-continental life. A version of myself that honors where I come from while reaching for something new. That’s what I want. And figuring that out meant admitting that some things that used to fit don’t fit anymore. That some relationships need different boundaries. That some commitments need to end.
Boundaries aren’t walls. They’re not about shutting people out or becoming hard. They’re about getting clear on what you’re building and protecting the space to build it. They’re about choosing to invest deeply in what matters instead of scattering yourself so thin that nothing gets your best.
So before you say yes to one more thing, ask yourself: what do I actually want? Not what everyone expects. Not what you’ve always done. Not what would make you look good or keep the peace or prove you’re still the person you used to be.
What do you want?
Maybe it’s time to rest. Maybe it’s space to rediscover what you’re passionate about when you’re not exhausted. Maybe it’s the ability to show up fully for a few important things instead of half-heartedly for everything. Maybe it’s permission to let some things go not because you failed, but because they’re not yours to carry anymore.
Clarity is power. And sometimes clarity means admitting that what you want is less. Fewer obligations, fewer performances, fewer explanations. More space to remember who you are.
Turning Awareness Into Action
Here’s where it gets practical. Once you know what’s happening and what you actually want, you can start shaping the shift.
Decrease the demands. This is where boundaries come in, and where burnout makes them feel impossible. Because when you’re already depleted, the idea of disappointing people feels unbearable.
I’ve had to tell people I can’t attend events I’ve never missed. I’ve had to say no to projects that would’ve been automatic “absolutely” a year ago. I’ve had to disappoint people who are used to me always having room for one more thing. And yes, it was hard. But saying yes when I had nothing left to give? That was even harder.
You don’t have to attend every holiday gathering. You don’t have to host. You don’t have to make anything homemade if picking it up in the store works. You don’t have to respond to every text immediately or take on every project that lands in your inbox. You don’t have to keep showing up for things that are draining you dry just because you always have before.
Practice saying: “I can’t take that on right now.” “That doesn’t work for me this year.” “I need to protect my energy.” No lengthy explanations. No apologies for being human.
Increase your resources. I’ve had to learn to ask for help in ways that feel uncomfortable. I’ve had to accept that I can’t do everything myself anymore, even though I always have before. I’ve had to actively seek out the things that restore me instead of waiting for energy to magically reappear.
What actually fills you up? Not what used to. What does now? Can you create space for that? Can you ask for help with the things that deplete you? Can you delegate, trade tasks, hire out something that’s draining you?
Resources aren’t just about time and money. They’re about energy and support. A conversation with someone who gets it. A morning to yourself. Time in nature. Movement that feels good instead of punishing. Permission to do things imperfectly. Permission to do nothing at all.
And this is critical: rest is not a reward for getting everything done. Rest is what allows you to function. If you’re waiting until you’ve earned it, you’ll be waiting forever.
Make it specific. Don’t just say “I’m going to set better boundaries.” Decide what that actually looks like for you, in your life, right now.
“I will not check work email after 7 p.m.” “I will say no to social plans on Sundays so I can recharge.” “I will tell my family I’m only attending one holiday event this year.” “I will stop volunteering for that committee that drains me.” “I will unsubscribe from obligations that no longer align with who I’m becoming.”
Vague intentions disappear under pressure. Specific commitments hold, even when they’re hard.
Living It, Not Just Deciding It
The hard part isn’t deciding to set boundaries. It’s following through when someone’s disappointed. When you feel guilty. When people who are used to your yes suddenly have to hear your no. When that voice in your head says you’re being selfish, dramatic, not trying hard enough.
I’ve felt that guilt. Still feel it sometimes. The voice that says I’m being selfish for choosing this life. For leaving. For changing. For not being who everyone expected me to be. For admitting I can’t do it all anymore.
But here’s what I know: the discomfort of holding a boundary is temporary. The resentment of not holding one compounds. And burnout that goes unaddressed doesn’t just stay it deepens until you don’t recognize yourself anymore.
You will feel the pull to cave. You will second-guess yourself. You will wonder if you’re being selfish or difficult or too much. But every time you honor a boundary you’ve set, you’re teaching yourself, and the people around you, that your capacity matters. That your wellbeing isn’t negotiable. That you’re allowed to change, to grow, to want something different than you wanted before.
Let’s practice together: What’s one thing you need to say no to this holiday season? Write it here as practice. I promise this is a judgment-free zone. Sometimes typing it out is the first step to actually doing it.
How to know if it’s working? Measure what matters. Are you sleeping better? Is passion starting to return in small ways? Do you have energy for the things you actually care about? Are you showing up as yourself instead of a stretched-thin, burned-out version of yourself? That’s the outcome worth protecting.
Who You’re Becoming Needs the Space You’re Creating
You are not the same person you were five years ago. Or maybe even five months ago. You’re evolving, rebuilding, becoming. And the life that fit you before might not fit you now. The pace that worked before might be killing you now.
I’m not the same woman who thought she had it all figured out. I’m becoming someone new. Learning a new language, navigating a new culture, building a new family. Some days are clarity. Some days are doubt. Some days I’m rediscovering what I’m passionate about now that I’ve stopped doing everything out of obligation.
And that’s okay. That’s the journey.
Designing boundaries isn’t about being rigid or shutting people out. It’s about creating the conditions for the life you’re actually trying to live. It’s about saying, “I’m no longer available for everything, because I’m building something that matters. And that something includes me.”
The world will keep asking. That’s what it does. But you get to decide what you’re available for.
You get to design the life where you’re not just surviving the to-do list or performing your way through obligations or burning out slowly while everyone applauds your productivity.
You get to live. Actually live.
And yes, it’s hard. Especially now, in the thick of the season when everyone wants a piece of you and you’re already running on empty. But every small boundary you hold is a brick in the foundation of the life you’re building. The one where you’re not on autopilot. The one where you’re steering. The one where you remember what you care about because you’ve protected the space to care.
This journey isn’t just mine. I’m living it so I can share it, so someone else can see themselves in it and know they’re not alone in choosing to steer instead of drift. In choosing themselves instead of everyone else’s expectations.
That person you’re becoming? The one who’s tired of being tired, who wants to feel passionate again, who deserves to invest in what actually matters? She needs the space you’re creating.
Give it to you.
You don’t have to navigate the holiday season alone. This is an opportunity to work directly with me and discover what your current challenges are. You will leave this session with an understanding of the 1st step you can take and a game plan for getting started!
You don’t need a complete life overhaul. You need one intentional choice today. One moment where you pause and ask yourself: Is this my choice or someone else’s? Is this my path or the one I inherited?
Learn more at www.drsharinicole.com or reach out at hello@drsharinicole.com. Let’s figure out your next WISE move together.
PS: If you came here from Instagram, from a retreat, from the WISE Journal, or from someone who shared this with you, I’m so glad you’re here. There is room for you in this circle.
I’m building a life between North America and East Africa. Learning a new language. Planning a wedding across continents. Rebuilding everything I thought I’d stabilized. Some days with grace. Some days with tears. All days with intention. This is that story messy, honest, and yours if you need it.
This article is part of an ongoing series about navigating major life transitions with intention, honoring both the grace and the bathroom floor tears. Because the journey of designing the life you actually want, not the one you’re supposed to want, deserves to be witnessed, shared, and celebrated.
If you’ve found this helpful as you navigate becoming, consider subscribing, sharing with a friend, or leaving a note for me. I’ll be reading!
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