When Holidays Trigger Old Wounds

Rachel Orleck (: 00:01

There's a moment that happens every holiday season, and and my clients describe it almost the same way. You're sitting in the car outside your family's house, hands on the steering wheel, taking one last breath before walking in. Your Your adult brain tries to pep talk you. It's fine, we're fine. This This is supposed to be good. Meanwhile, your body is doing its best impression of a trapped animal.

your chest tightens, your stomach sinks, and suddenly you feel like you're 12 years old again, bracing bracing for old roles, old dynamics, and old expectations. Holidays have a way of resurfacing parts of us that we thought we'd outgrown. One client told me she spends weeks preparing to go home.

Not because she's excited, but but because she's terrified of being seen as the bad child. Every year she drives hours out of her way, not not out of desire, but obligation. Her Her nervous system still holds the old rule, compliance equals safety. Her Her adult self knows she has a choice. Her Her body still remembers the cost of saying no.

This is the bind that so many of us fall into. We think we're evolved adults who should be able to rise above our family dynamics. But the moment we walk through that door, the choreography starts. Someone makes a familiar comment, someone asks a loaded question, someone slips into their usual role, and there you are, sliding right back into yours. Not because you want to.

but because it feels safer than disrupting the script, everyone else is still reading from.

So if you've ever wondered, why do I instantly regress around my family? You're actually not regressing. You're reenacting. Holidays don't trigger immaturity. They trigger memory. They activate the oldest wiring in your nervous system, the wiring that learned how to stay safe before you even had language. That's what we're unpacking today.

why your body reacts this way, why it makes sense, and how to support yourself before you step back into that emotional time machine.

Slipping into old patterns around family isn't a failure of maturity, it's biology. When you return to the people and places where your earliest attachment templates were formed, your nervous system scans for the cues it learned decades ago. A tone of disappointment, a familiar sigh, that joking comment that never actually felt like a joke. These cues were once tied to safety,

or danger. So your body still responds as if they matter. Because to your body they do. Most of us walk into the holidays with quiet pressure to be better than before. Don't Don't react, stay calm, be gracious. And then one comment from a sibling sends you spiraling. Or one passive aggressive question makes your chest tighten.

That's not a lack of growth. It's your nervous system choosing familiarity over novelty. It remembers the choreography long after your adult brain has moved on. Think of it like walking into a stage where everyone is still holding your childhood script, even though rewritten your character.

You try to improvise, but the cast keeps feeding you the old lines. You're the dependable one. You always overreact. You never help. These aren't just annoying. They're They're invitations back into the role you once used for survival. And your nervous system responds before your adult self can intervene. Here's a holiday-specific example.

I worked with a couple whose pursue and withdraw cycle always existed, but but the holidays brought it into high definition. Around Around family, the withdrawn partners slipped into their childhood role. role. Stay quiet, don't rock the boat, keep everything fine. Their partner felt completely alone.

watching them disappear into polite smiles and silence, and and when they'd asked the withdrawn partner to share more, their partner genuinely had nothing to report. They weren't lying, they were just disassociating dissociating.

Their body's way of staying safe was to shrink and pull back. Meanwhile, the protesting partner felt abandoned and overwhelmed. The holidays didn't create this pattern. They They just turned up the volume until neither partner could ignore it. These old roles don't vanish just because we grow up. They reappear when our body recognizes the old stage.

So what's actually happening under the surface? This isn't just holiday stress. This is your nervous system recognizing old cues and shifting into protection before you actually consciously register anything. Your body has two basic modes. One is connection mode. I can stay open. And the other is protection mode. I need to shut down or gear up.

Most people assume protection looks like yelling or reacting, but it can also look like going numb, shrinking, people pleasing pleasing, or smiling through discomfort.

This isn't about personality, these are reflexes. Your body is saying, I know what happens if I show too much here. Let's not risk it.

I had a former client describe visiting family as time traveling without consent. She'd walk into her parents' house and instantly lose access to the confident adult she was everywhere else. Her voice softened and became small. Her opinions disappeared. Her humor shut down. At first, she thought she was failing at something, but eventually she realized her body wasn't betraying her.

It was protecting her by using the only strategy it knew when she was in childhood.

This is why logic doesn't help. You can rehearse boundaries, you can journal affirmations, but the moment your body senses an old threat cue, it's going to override the script.

It's like trying to navigate a new GPS while your nervous system is still using an old map. And that old map is saying things like, don't upset anyone, stay out of the way, keep everyone comfortable. Understanding this isn't a weakness, it's your wiring. It gives you more power, not less. Because once you start seeing this pattern, you can actually start interrupting it gently.

instead of shaming yourself for having it.

When people think holiday overwhelm, they usually picture big conflict. But honestly, the more common version is much quieter. It's the bracing you do in the car, the rehearsed answers, the polite smile you hold a little bit too tightly. You're not aiming to enjoy the gathering. You're aiming to survive it, avoid damage.

with no arguments, no making scenes, no emotional landmines. That isn't connection.

But here's the thing, when you're bracing, you're already gone. You're not walking in as you, you're walking in as the armored version of you who's scanning for danger. And that's really exhausting. Even if nothing bad happens, your your body spends hours managing the room, like you're the emotional event coordinator.

And no wonder you collapse afterwards. Now let's compare that with showing up in a connected way with yourself. You're not perfectly regulated regulated, you're not blissed out, but you're simply present. You pause before reacting. You notice when your chest tightens. Maybe you actually step outside for air. Maybe you check in with somebody who feels safe.

You're not trying to win the holiday or impress your family. They're your family. you're just choosing loyalty to yourself in small moments. And that, more than any boundary speech, can shift your emotional temperature.

I had a moment like this recently.

I walk into a family space where there are certain dynamics that pop up. And when they did, I felt that fork in the road. There was that pull towards my old role and the tiny option to choose differently. Believe me, it wasn't elagent elegant. It wasn't a movie scene, but it was honest. And that honesty was the shift. It wasn't perfection. It was just me being present.

and choosing myself in that moment.

And this is what we're aiming for. It's not avoiding activation. That's going to happen. It's not transcending your triggers. The triggers exist. It's just staying connected enough to yourself that the old roles don't take over the moment you walk through the door.

Let's talk about something small you can do heading into the holidays. Not a full system, not a transformation, just an anchor that helps your nervous system feel supported.

Think of this like your pre-game and post-game check-in. It's not the entire playbook.

So first you're gonna check in with yourself. Before you go, ask yourself, which version of me usually shows up here?

Which version do I want to invite instead? That's That's it. That's it. No performance required.

Just by naming that default role, it interrupts autopilot. Maybe this is your 2 % shift in speaking up once.

Maybe it's saying less. Maybe it's taking one breath before responding. These small things count.

Then we work on co-regulation. Give your body tiny cues of safety. Put your feet on the floor, allow your jaw to relax Put a hand on your leg, take a quick step outside and breathe some cold air. Text or call somebody who's grounding for you. These small moments

Tell your nervous system, I'm here with you. And and they help connect you with with this version that you want to invite to the party instead.

and then come back.

After the gathering, reflect with yourself gently. What activated me? What helped me stay with myself? And what would I want to try next time?

Keep in mind that this isn't a performance review. We're We're just being curious. This is how you build internal safety over time.

And if you wanna start learning how to make these shifts consistent, this is exactly what I work with my clients on. It's not the theory, it's the living practice.

So as we close up here today, here's what I want you to remember. Your reactions around the holidays don't mean you're failing. They mean your body remembers. Holidays are emotional environments, not just events. They're full of old cues and old roles, and your nervous system responds to those cues long before your conscious mind can even weigh in.

The goal isn't to be perfectly calm or endlessly gracious. The goal here is to stay connected to yourself while the old wiring wiring lights up. That might be one breath, stepping outside,

letting yourself feel tender instead of pretending that you're okay. Remember, tender isn't a weakness. Tender means you're aware of your own needs and your own hurts. Tender means you're human. And tender means that you're listening inward instead of trying to perform outward.

And if you want deeper support in practicing this, not just understanding it, visit me at the Attachment Revolution, where where we start to take these insights and build the regulation, safety and connection your body actually needs.