Making the Holidays: When Everything Changes (Again)
For us, the holidays seem to be different every year.
I grew up with the same Christmas, every single year. Christmas Eve at my maternal grandparents' house with all the cousins (9 of us, total chaos, pure magic). Santa would visit while we were gone. Christmas morning at my paternal grandmother's house. Rinse, repeat, rely on it.
Then I grew up. Had kids. People died. Divorce. Moving states away. Life did its thing.
And every year since, I've been chasing that feeling—trying to nail down our traditions, our version of "the same Christmas every year." Every year, something major changes. Every year, I try again.
This year? We're back in our hometown in a small rental. Just me, David, and one of my kids. David's back at his old job (since June), working in an industry where the holidays mean all hands on deck. I'm unemployed—working through the bitterness of a toxic workplace that pushed me out, trying to build this business from what's in my head.
We're broke. Like actually broke, like most of the country right now. We won't be with extended family. Everything is different. Again.
And weirdly? I'm not sad about it.
Mad about the broke part, sure. But mostly I'm just... melancholy. And for me, melancholy means going back to the basics. Stripping it down. Making something from scratch.
So here's what we're working with:
A 4ft tabletop tree my daughter brought with her
An attic full of ornaments that are staying exactly where they are
Just the four of us for Christmas dinner
Basically, no budget
Here's what I'm doing about it:
Over the next 6+ weeks, I'm planning, making, and documenting a completely homemade Christmas. Decorations. Gifts. Food. All of it. On a shoestring budget (and I mean shoestring—like the kind that's already broken and you're double-knotting to make it through one more day).
I'm bringing you along.
Not because I have it figured out. Not because I'm some aspirational DIY blogger with a perfect aesthetic. But because I think a lot of us are in this same boat—wanting the magic, working with what we've got, trying to make something meaningful when everything feels different.
The Plan(ish):
Starting this Thursday, I'll be posting on my normal schedule, twice a week (Mondays & Thursdays) with:
Homemade decoration ideas (that actually look good, not like Pinterest fails) - let’s cross our fingers here
Recipe planning for a small, budget-friendly Christmas dinner
Homemade gift ideas (that people might actually want)
Day-of planning so we're not scrambling
Real talk about what works, what doesn't, and how much everything actually costs
This isn't about perfection. It's about making something beautiful from what we have. It's about rebuilding traditions when the old ones don't fit anymore. It's about a meaningful Christmas that doesn't cost a mortgage payment.
Full transparency: I'm terrible at taking photos. Like, genuinely bad at it. So don't expect gorgeous step-by-step Instagram content. What you will get is honest documentation of what I'm actually making, actual costs, and whether things work or turn into spectacular failures. My craft space looks like a tornado hit a thrift store, and that's exactly how it's staying.
Another thing: I don't know what I'm doing yet.
This is the start of the plan. I have ideas, sure. But I haven't figured out all the ornaments I'm making, haven't tested the recipes, haven't solved all the problems. I'm figuring it out as I go, and you're going to watch me do it in real time. Some things will work. Some things will definitely not work. That's the whole point.
And here's the thing—this is practice.
In January, I'm launching something I'm really excited about: a weekly virtual Crafting Hour (still workshopping the name). A cozy coworking space where we show up with whatever project we're working on, craft together on Google Meet or Discord, and actually do the thing we keep putting off. Zero pressure, zero judgment, just connection and accountability without the guilt.
This Christmas series? It's me walking the walk. Showing up messy. Making the things. Proving to myself (and maybe to you) that we don't need perfect circumstances, perfect budgets, or perfect plans to create something meaningful.
If you're in a similar spot—if your holidays look different this year, if your budget is tight, if you're starting over in some way—come with me. Let's figure this out together.
Next post (Thursday, Nov 6): The Ornament Plan — brainstorming what I'm making, gathering materials, and seeing what's actually possible with a 4ft tree and zero dollars.
See you Thursday. Bring your mess.
Follow along on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, and LinkedIn for visuals and bite-sized insights from this piece and others. And if this resonated, share it with someone else who gets it.
Sign up here to receive our newsletter and stay connected!
About the Author
Gal is an autistic artist, late-diagnosed at 49, and the creator of AuRTistic Expressions—a space where neurodivergent truth meets creative survival. Through books, blog posts, printables, and coaching, Gal explores what it means to unmask safely, communicate authentically, and make art that doesn’t ask for permission. Stick around—there’s plenty more where this came from.
AI generated bio
Cover Photo by Heather Newsom on Unsplash
