Your First Holiday Without Your Kids Or Your Tenth: Pain, Presence, and Resilience
Few experiences compare to spending the holidays without your children. It does not matter if this is your first year or your tenth. The absence feels like a weight on your chest. Traditions that once held warmth can feel hollow. The silence in your home becomes its own form of grief. Survivors often carry a belief that the pain should lessen over time. This is not how parental love works. Nothing about this pain means you are failing them. You are navigating a court imposed reality that no devoted parent should ever face.
Here is what I want you to remember: children rarely remember specific dates. They remember the feeling of being loved. They remember emotional safety. They remember presence. My daughters never remembered which year Christmas fell on the actual day in our home. They remembered that I showed up in big and small ways. They remembered how they felt. Holidays live in the heart, not the calendar.
New traditions can grow out of hardship in ways you never expect. When the narcissist stole my Christmas ornaments, my daughters and I made tiny clay ornaments together. They remembered the fun, the creativity, and the laughter. They did not know that I was rebuilding something lost. Exploring a nearby town on Christmas Eve became another tradition. They remembered hot chocolate, Christmas lights, and discovering something new. They did not know that I chose that experience because money was tight and the memory was priceless.
Parents spending the holiday alone often feel invisible grief. The world continues on with its celebrations while you face a reality that few understand. Your love for your children is not diminished by the days you cannot spend together. Your bond with them is not erased by the court or by the narcissist’s manipulation. Your children feel your love even across distance. They feel it through consistency, steadiness, and emotional safety that you provide every day of the year.
Give yourself permission to honor your heart. Permission to rest. Permission to cry if you need to. Permission to close the blinds and take the day at your own pace. Nothing about this season is a reflection of your worth as a parent. You are showing your children resilience in real time. You are building a life that will eventually offer them a model of safety, authenticity, and healing. Holidays may look different, but your love for your children remains unchanged. That love endures every court order and every attempt by the narcissist to overshadow you.
The fine print:
I am not an attorney and I am not qualified to provide legal advice. Everything I share is based on personal experience and over a decade of work supporting others through high conflict custody battles. It is essential to consult with your attorney before making any legal decisions or implementing strategies discussed here. Your attorney is your legal voice and your advocate in the courtroom. They can help you understand the law in your jurisdiction, evaluate potential risks, and determine the best approach for your unique situation.
About me: My name is Tina Swithin. I am a survivor, a mom, and someone who understands this battle firsthand. I acted as my own attorney and successfully protected my children in a system that I can only describe as inhumane. I am also a blogger, a certified divorce coach, a best selling author, and a fierce advocate for reform in the family court system. I divorced a narcissist and I prevailed. You can read more about me here.
