Why Do the Holidays Cost Us More Than We Expect—Financially and Emotionally?

When I reflect on the holiday season, it often seems to me that what should be a time of joy quickly becomes a season of stress and unease. Perhaps it happens because many of us feel compared to spend more than we intended, or because we miss the closeness of family enjoyed in a different phase of life.    When the season ends, we feel compelled to take corrective action—often by setting ambitious or unrealistic goals. For some, what remains is a sense of letdown, and for others, a quiet loneliness.

As I have listened to the media over the years, this pattern of overspending, anxiety, feelings of quietness, or in some case isolation repeats itself over and over.   Predictably, you then hear the setting of New Years resolutions that follow.  As if in some way this setting of goals  will provide relief or resolution.  But does that really work? I’m not so sure.

I remember when I was in junior high that a series of “fads” swept across the school campus. They ranged from shooting marbles and spinning tops to yo-yos, hula hoops, and even kids playing stretch with knives. Those who are younger today probably have little idea what these fads were.

By high school and even college, the pressure shifted—to wearing the right clothes or adopting the prevailing hairstyle. Looking back, it seems clear that culture has always exerted pressure to conform, and often to spend, even when we know it may not be wise or prudent.

The same dynamic shows up in families. When other children want—and receive—the popular items of the moment, we feel our own children should have them as well. And when the whole family gathers, it is hard not to wonder how our gifts will measure up to those given by others.

All of this points to motivations that are more deeply emotional than rational. Spending, in these moments, may be less about the object itself and more about maintaining—or even establishing—connection with the people who matter most in our lives.

Our family of four children and grandkids are essentially grown. Distance and obligations prevent the total family gatherings of yesteryear. There is thus that emotional letdown since we not longer can see the sparkle in the grandkids eyes as they open presents. That doesn’t compare I think to the loneliness some feel at the loss of spouse or those without close friends to share the season with.

It may seem life is out of control as all of these pressure converge.  Setting goals is a natural reaction.  However, sometimes that is really what addressing finances, health, or even “getting together more with others is.  It is a reaction, not a deep reflections on what really matters to you whatever the stage of life you are in. 

Martha and I are in the winter of our lives.  A realistic reflection of our stage of life dictates a change of direction and emphasis, not just a superficial “fix”.   More deeply we had to ask “What is our real purpose?” given our current gifts and abilities.

I am reminded of an example used when I was first learning about goal setting. What if I set the goal of becoming the greatest quarterback ever—better than Tom Brady? It’s easy to see why that kind of goal would never last. Over time, I’ve learned that goals untethered from reality or purpose tend to fade quickly.

Another example comes to mind. You have probably used this expression many times—we certainly have: “Come and see us sometime.” Try as I might, I’ve never been able to find “sometime” on the calendar. In much the same way, I’ve learned that vague goals rarely move us very far.

I’ve also noticed how often we’re encouraged—especially in matters of health—to have a “buddy.” When goals are shared with someone close, they seem less fragile. There’s encouragement, yes, but also a quiet sense of accountability that makes follow-through more likely.

Taking time to clarify purpose has mattered more to me than any particular technique. When the purpose is clear, smaller goals tend to fall into place more naturally. Without that clarity, it’s easy to chase short-term fixes that don’t last. Looking back, the goals that endured were the ones tied not just to outcomes, but to deeper needs for meaning and connection.

One thing that has always helped Martha and me over our sixty-two years of marriage is this: we have taken time to set goals we shared together. That shared effort has been a quiet source of both accomplishment and joy for us.