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When the Christmas Magic Fades: Learning to Accept the Season as an Adult

  • Writer: Suzie Booth
    Suzie Booth
  • Dec 12
  • 4 min read

by Suzie Booth, Counsellor/Psychotherapist (MSc. MBACP accred).


There’s a moment many of us reach in adulthood when we realise something quietly heartbreaking...


Christmas doesn’t feel magical anymore.


As children, Christmas carried a kind of wonder; the sparkle, the rituals, the anticipation, the sense that something extraordinary and magical was coming. For many adults, that magic faded somewhere along the way, replaced by responsibility, logistics, emotional labour, family dynamics, grief, or simply the weight of everyday life.


And for parents, there’s an extra layer; we’re told that creating magic for our children will help us feel it again.


For some people that’s true. But for many, myself included, it isn’t.


And that deserves to be acknowledged with warmth rather than shame.


Why the magic doesn’t feel the same anymore


Part of losing the “childhood magic” is simply growing up. Our brains change, our roles change, and our lives become filled with responsibilities that force out the freedom we once felt. But there are deeper reasons too...


1. We carry the weight now


As children, Christmas was something given to us. As adults, we are the ones creating it: planning, organising, buying, wrapping, booking, cooking, remembering, holding the emotional tone for everyone else.


Magic is hard to feel when your brain is managing a spreadsheet.


2. Our lives have expanded, and so have our emotional realities


Christmas can touch tender places: family wounds, losses, complicated relationships, unmet needs from our own childhoods, pressure to “make it special,” or the exhaustion of parenting small children.


It’s very hard to feel enchanted when you’re stretched thin.


3. Nostalgia comes with grief


When we long for the magic we once felt, we’re actually grieving something we can’t return to - a younger version of ourselves who saw the world through a different lens.

That’s a loss, and like all losses, it hurts.


4. Creating magic for children isn’t the same as feeling it


This is the part people rarely say out loud. You can adore your children, love watching their joy, and still feel that your internal experience is the same.


Watching magic happen is not the same as feeling it inside you.


Santa Claus bringing Christmas magic

So what do we do with that?


When the old magic doesn’t return, we often respond with pressure;

“I should feel more festive.” “What’s wrong with me?” “If I try harder, maybe I’ll feel something.”


But forcing joy doesn't create it. Actually, it deepens the sense of disconnection.


So, here’s a different approach, one that's more rooted in acceptance, self-compassion, and meaning-making.


1. Allow the grief, instead of fighting it


It’s not silly or dramatic to feel sad that Christmas doesn’t feel the way it used to. This is a genuine emotional experience; a small, bittersweet grief.


Naming it takes away its sting:

  • “I miss the excitement I used to feel.”

  • “This is different now, and that’s hard.”

  • “Part of me longs for something I can’t recreate.”


When we stop resisting our reality, we soften into it.


2. Redefine what counts as ‘magic’


Maybe the definition of 'magic' needs to change...


Magic in adulthood is quieter. It’s in:

  • the warmth of a soft light in a dark room

  • a moment of stillness when the house is finally quiet

  • a child’s sleepy hand in yours

  • a familiar song that reminds you of someone

  • a conversation that feels honest and real

  • choosing rest instead of hustle

  • saying no to something that overwhelms you


It isn’t necessarily glittery, it doesn’t feel like it did when you were seven. But it is still there, in smaller, more grounded ways. I love getting the kids into bed, putting the Christmas lights on and listening to 'Silent Night'. Such peace and tranquillity which in this season of life, feels magical.


3. Focus on meaning, not magic


Meaning is different from excitement. Meaning is slow, deep, steady.


Ask yourself:

  • What matters to me at Christmas now?

  • What do I actually want from this season?

  • What traditions support me, and which ones exhaust me?

  • What feels nourishing, rather than obligatory?


You may find that the most meaningful moments are not the most Christmassy ones.


4. Create a Christmas that fits the person you are today


This is the heart of it.


You don’t have to chase a feeling that belongs to another time in your life. You’re allowed to build a Christmas that fits:

  • your current energy

  • your family’s needs

  • your boundaries

  • your emotional landscape

  • your desire for simplicity or calm


Try letting go of the idea that you must feel a certain way.


Magic may not return, but peace might.

Connection might.

A small sense of “enoughness” might.


And those things are just as valuable.


5. Let your children have their experience, and you have yours


Your children’s joy doesn’t depend on you feeling magical, it depends on you being present in the moments you can manage, and kind to yourself in the moments you can’t.


Your emotional experience does not need to mirror theirs. You can be steady, loving, and grounded without feeling “Christmassy” at all.


And that is still good parenting.


If the magic is gone for you… you are not broken


You are human.

You have grown, changed, carried, lost, loved, survived.


It makes sense that your relationship with Christmas has evolved too.


Instead of longing for what no longer exists, you’re allowed to meet Christmas exactly as it is today; imperfect, quieter, sometimes heavy, sometimes sweet, always real.


A Christmas that fits you is far more meaningful than a Christmas that matches an old memory.


Adult enjoying a quiet Christmas

 
 
 
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