Over-Achievers vs. The Holidays
I’m a sucker for gatherings, traditions, feasts, twinkle lights, and holiday magic of all kinds. But as a mom, I know the magic doesn't happen spontaneously: it takes a lot of planning and work. All of that emotional, logistical, and even physical labor usually falls on women, mothers, and over-functioners.
The stress can get overwhelming and make us secretly dread the holidays a little. I think that’s a shame, so I’d like so share these very actionable, very anti-perfectionistic steps to take the holidays back:
Who is it for?
If you feel stressed about making it all happen, ask yourself who’s asking for that level of magic? Does your family have high expectations? Are your own expectations even higher? How much could you be stressing about something that isn't very important to your family, or doesn't matter as much as it used to? Overachievers sometimes perform for an audience that doesn’t exist.
Everybody owns their part.
What are the three traditions or holiday elements that are most important to you? Three that feel nourishing, nostalgic, grounding, magical, or joyful. Just three. This is the end of your to-do list.
Then ask the people in your home: “What part of the holidays matters to you most? What’s your piece?” Let each person own one or two cherished parts. Let them be in charge of the dessert, the playlist, the elf, the movie night. This curates a beloved experience of everybody’s favorites instead of cluttering it with extras.
We've been given multiple 'picture frame' ornaments over the years, but have I ever actually printed photos for them? Of course not. Now my kids fight about who gets to put them on the tree very year. Sometimes the tradition chooses you.
Give your tasks a container.
Work expands to fill its container (look up “Parkinson’s Law” if you’re into economic proof). Without intention to prevent it from happening, an over-achiever’s to-do list will stretch to fill all time, thoughts, and energy.
So give your tasks a realistic container. For example: when it comes to decorations, you could give them a physical container (“No more than two bins”). Or you can try a container of time ("I can spend two hours max”).
Protect your blank space.
Now that your tasks have a container, the overachiever's impulse will always be to fill that “extra” time and space with one more run to the store, one more batch of cookies, one more festive event.
The true test of the overachiever is to protect that blank space. Guard it as a treasure: a time to watch snowflakes fall and try to catch one on your hand, or look up at the winter stars with a kid who's excited about space. A time to check in with your body about where you're holding tension, and to let it soften. A time to give yourself and your family the gift of presence.
I suspect that most holiday magic isn’t truly effortful but oozes out of being alive in the moment you’re actually in. You’re never going to get an A+ in Holidays, but I’m pretty sure you can do okay-ish at making them warm and human.
© 2025–2026 Summer Hopkins Myers | Already Good
This work is original and protected. Sharing links is welcome; unattributed reproduction and LLM training is not.
