Dear Friend,

The holiday season is here yet something still feels missing.

I see you standing there, surrounded by laughter, by the clinking of glasses and the hum of conversation. It’s supposed to feel warm, isn’t it?

Yet inside, there’s a quiet ache—a space so hollow it feels like it might echo. You look around, and though the room is filled, you still feel unseen.

Please allow me to tell you something: loneliness is not a failure. It is not proof that something is wrong with you. It’s simply a reminder of your longing—for connection that feels actually real, for a place where you can exhale and be fully, entirely yourself.

You are not broken for feeling this way. You are human. And your loneliness is not a permanent state; it’s a bridge, leading you back to the parts of yourself that need to be held most tenderly right now.

I encourage you to find a quiet space amidst the holiday bustle and whisper the following messages to each part of you if it’s helpful.

To the Child Inside You

I know you feel small in all this noise, like no one notices the little one inside who just wants to be chosen, wanted, and deeply loved. I see you. I am choosing you. You don’t have to perform to earn this love—it’s already yours. Soften into it, little one.

To the Teenager Within You

I know how much you long to be understood, how you’ve wanted someone—anyone—to really get what it’s like to be you. It’s okay to feel the anger, the frustration, the sorrow. Your feelings are valid and they are safe here. You are safe here. You don’t have to reach for understanding with me. I get it — and will keep listening to you.

To the Adult You Are Now

I see your resilience, your willingness to show up even when it feels like no one notices. You are so much stronger than you think you are. And yet, you don’t have to carry this all alone. There is a version of you who is deeply connected to life and to love. Let’s walk toward them together. Let’s listen to their wisdom this holiday season.

Three Practices to Hold Yourself During This Time

1. The Inner Check-In

Step away from the noise, just for a moment. Find a quiet space—a corner of the room, a bathroom, a step outside. Place your hand on your heart and ask yourself:

• What do I need right now?

• What would feel like genuine care for all of me in this moment?

Honor whatever arises. Maybe it’s a deep breath. Maybe it’s letting yourself cry. Maybe it’s texting a friend who feels safe or your coach to be witnessed.

2. Create a Ritual of Self-Connection

Tonight, when the world grows quiet, light a candle. Sit with yourself. Write a letter to the loneliness—ask it what it wants to teach you. Then write back to yourself as if you were comforting a dear friend. Let your words remind you that you are never truly alone because you have you.

3. Carry a Talisman of Comfort

Choose something small but meaningful—a piece of jewelry, a stone, a key, a note to yourself—and keep it close. When the loneliness rises, hold it. Let it be a reminder that you are not untethered; you are grounded in your own presence and you will honor every feeling that rises.

Three Somatic Practices to Gently Move Loneliness Through Your Body

1. Heart Holding

Place both hands over your heart. Close your eyes and imagine your own warmth filling the hollow spaces within. With every breath, let your chest soften, opening to the love you already carry within. Whisper softly: I am here with you.

2. The Anchor of Presence

Sit with your feet flat on the ground. Press your palms together firmly, creating a sensation of grounding. Breathe naturally — in and out. Notice the texture, the warmth, the pressure. This small act reminds your body that you are here, now, and that this moment will pass when you let it move through you.

3. Gentle Movement

Stand and sway, side-to-side, letting your arms follow loosely. Let the motion mimic the way a parent might rock a child. This style of movement soothes your nervous system, reminding you of safety, of care, of home within yourself. It also allows the emotions to actually move through your body with every sway. You can also offer each sway to something Greater if you wish.

To the One Who Feels This Loneliness

You are not invisible, even if it feels that way. There are people who see you, even if you cannot feel their gaze just yet. There are moments of connection waiting for you, moments so real and vibrantly full they will one day bring tears of gratitude to your eyes.

For now, let this letter be an anchor. Let it remind you that you are worthy of love, not because of what you do or how many people surround you but because you exist as you are. Dear friend, you are far more than enough — in all your longing and all your light.

From my heart to yours,