Healing the holiday blues means making the recipe and forging ahead into the season

You know you’re in a new life chapter when you start understanding what “holiday blues” really mean — another year gone, a renewed reminder that kids (and, ourselves) are getting older and that the only thing for certain is change. I recently watched Disney’s “Frozen 2” with my family and .... wow, it was a lot. Let’s just say the innocent characters so many of us fell in love with years ago now experience a “whole lotta life” and must figure out how to get through it to become the next best version of themselves.

In the movie, making it to the other side requires conquering a treacherous journey and trudging through dark emotions — a few themes that could’ve been plucked directly from my own life last year (as well as many people’s lives). Without tenacity, they’d never arrive at that happy Disney happy ending.

A year ago, part of my own “non-expert, self-induced gritty therapy” (as I’ve now named it with 20/20 hindsight) involved cooking and baking in my kitchen after my kids had gone to bed. About once a month, I’d open a handmade cookbook that my mom gifted to me several years ago — each favorite family recipe laced with memories of her and my childhood — before grief became a ruthlessly nagging ingredient of my day-to-day. I’d find myself crying in my kitchen over the stove, into a mixing bowl, in front of a Cuisinart. Sometimes my girls would wander in to get water and ask me if I was OK. “Yes honey, I’m good,” I’d always say. “I’m just thinking about so many memories and all the feelings just spill out of my face.” The next day, I’d wake up with puffy eyes and my family would have a nice meal or decadent dessert.

Last year’s holiday season was extra challenging and yielded a never-before-experienced disaster of my favorite Armenian appetizer dish I’d successfully made dozens of times before. I wept while I made it (as part of my usual routine) and then I cried after it was done (because it didn’t turn out the way I’d expected). A month later, I tried the same recipe again and it turned out fine. Great, even. And, less weeping during and no crying afterwards. “These turned out good this time, Mommy!” my girls squealed. I smiled.

Each time I forced myself to slog through recipes and raw emotions, I found myself conquering a little bit more of the pain I feared feeling. Emotions can run high during this season — press yourself to make the recipes, do the things, remember the memories. I’ve found that dredging up sentiment can help us move forward to become the next best version of ourselves as we move through our own life stories. Force yourself to appreciate the now, the moment, the past and the the possible future. Because happy endings won’t happen unless we forge through what we might be scared to deal with the most ... especially during the holidays.

Jill Simonian was born and raised in Fresno and is creator of TheFabMom.com. She is a Los Angeles based TV/media contributor and author of book ‘The FAB Mom’s Guide’ for first-time pregnancy. Connect with Jill on Facebook and Instagram @jillsimonian.

This story was originally published December 13, 2019 at 6:00 AM with the headline "Healing the holiday blues means making the recipe and forging ahead into the season."