The Patriarchy: Women as the Keepers of Cheer
If religion sets the stage for holiday expectations, the patriarchy casts women as the lead performers—tasked with creating, sustaining, and perfecting the magic of the season. It’s an unspoken truth: while everyone enjoys the warmth and wonder of the holidays, it’s often women who shoulder the invisible labor that makes it all possible.
The Invisible Holiday Burden
Think about it. Who plans the meals, organizes the gift lists, writes the cards, coordinates the gatherings, and ensures that traditions are upheld? More often than not, it’s women. The patriarchy has long positioned us as the keepers of family harmony, emotional well-being, and festive cheer. We’re expected to orchestrate the holidays seamlessly—and with a smile on our faces.
But here’s the problem: this invisible labor comes at a cost. While others bask in the glow of holiday traditions, women are often running themselves ragged behind the scenes. There’s little space to rest, let alone enjoy the very magic we’ve worked so hard to create. And if we dare to express frustration or set limits, we risk being labeled as ungrateful, a Grinch, or worse.
Performing Happiness
Underneath the perfectly curated holiday photos and matching pajamas lies the weight of centuries-old gender roles. The message is clear: if the holidays aren’t joyful, it’s your fault. You didn’t try hard enough, care enough, or love enough.
This dynamic is especially frustrating because it turns joy into a performance. Rather than authentically feeling the magic of the season, women are often stuck performing happiness for the benefit of others. We’re the cheerleaders, the peacekeepers, and the miracle-makers—all while juggling our own exhaustion, overwhelm, and unmet needs.
Holly Jolly Frustrations
Let’s look at long term partnership. My husband loves the holidays, and sometimes even that drives me crazy, poor guy! Don’t get me wrong—he’s a wonderful man who genuinely loves the holidays. He’s the Holly Jolly to my humbug, the one who wants the house lit up like a Christmas wonderland and can’t get enough of holiday music. His enthusiasm is infectious at times, but it can also be maddening.
While I’m buried under the mental load of holiday planning, he’s blissfully humming along to “Jingle Bells.” While I’m juggling gift lists, schedules, and the emotional labor of family dynamics, he’s sipping cocoa and basking in the glow of twinkling lights. His joy is real, and I admire it—but some days, it feels like a luxury I can’t afford.
The patriarchy has trained us to believe that women are the architects of holiday cheer, while men are free to simply enjoy it. It’s an imbalance that breeds resentment, even in the most loving relationships.
Untangling the Expectations
So how do we break free from this cycle? How do we let go of the patriarchal script that tells us our worth lies in how well we perform holiday magic?
For me, it starts with naming the problem. The holidays shouldn’t be a test of a woman’s ability to sacrifice herself for the happiness of others. They should be a time of shared effort, mutual joy, and realistic expectations.
Here are a few ways I’m trying to reclaim this season:
Delegating the Work: I’ve started asking for help, whether it’s with shopping, cooking, or cleaning. The holidays aren’t a one-woman show, and it’s okay to spread the responsibility.
Redefining Traditions: Not every tradition needs to be upheld, especially if it adds stress. I’m learning to let go of rituals that no longer serve me or my family.
Speaking Up: When the weight of holiday labor feels too heavy, I’m practicing honesty. Naming my frustration doesn’t make me a Grinch—it makes me human.
Prioritizing Rest: Instead of powering through exhaustion, I’m carving out moments to pause, breathe, and reconnect with what truly matters.
An Invitation to Reflect
If you’ve ever felt the crushing weight of holiday expectations, I want you to know you’re not alone. The patriarchy might tell us that women are the keepers of cheer, but we don’t have to accept that role.
This season, I invite you to ask yourself:
What expectations am I carrying that I didn’t agree to?
How can I share the load with those around me?
What would it look like to prioritize my own joy and rest this season?
The holidays don’t have to be perfect. They don’t have to be a performance. They can be messy, imperfect, and enough—just like us.
Let’s give ourselves permission to step back from the invisible labor, the endless shoulds, and the pressure to do it all. Let’s redefine this season on our own terms.