Before the Storm: Setting Boundaries & Releasing Perfectionism for the Holidays

“Before the holiday rush, there’s peace on the porch—a reminder that real connection matters more than perfection. Setting the table for the season with simple comforts, clear boundaries, and a heart ready for what truly matters.”

BEFORE THE STORM

Setting Boundaries, Releasing Perfectionism & Preparing Your Heart for the Holidays

By Meredith Glynn, Serenity & Sweet Tea

Sugar, the holidays are coming. And before they hit like a category five hurricane, we need to get real about something:

You don't have to do it all. You don't have to be perfect. And you don't have to carry everyone else's emotions on your shoulders while you're at it.

But here's what I know: most of us walk into the holiday season like we're walking into battle. We've got our expectations lined up like soldiers, our perfectionism locked and loaded, and our nervous systems already running on fumes before Thanksgiving even hits.

So today, I want to pull you onto the porch swing with me, hand you a glass of sweet tea, and talk about what actually happens before the storm hits. Because that's where the real magic happens. That's where you get to decide what this season is going to look like.

Where Do These Expectations Even Come From?

Let me tell you something about expectations. They're like weeds in a garden—you don't plant them on purpose, but somehow they grow everywhere, choking out the flowers you actually wanted to grow.

Most of our holiday expectations? We didn't choose them. We inherited them.

Think about your own family traditions. Where did they come from? Did your mama do it that way? Did your grandmother? At some point, somebody decided that Christmas morning had to look a certain way, or Thanksgiving dinner had to have seven sides, or you had to spend the holidays with family even if that family made you want to pull your hair out.

And here's the thing—those expectations got passed down like china patterns and recipe cards. Except unlike china patterns, we can't just decide not to use them. We feel obligated to them. We feel like we're letting people down if we break the tradition, even if that tradition is slowly killing us.

I grew up in a family where my mother made everything from scratch. And I mean everything. Rolls, cranberry sauce, desserts, the works. It was beautiful, and it was also completely unsustainable. But you know what I learned? That if you didn't make everything from scratch, you weren't a "real" Southern woman. You weren't doing Christmas right.

So for years, I did the same thing. I'd spend weeks planning, shopping, cooking, decorating. I'd stress myself into a migraine by December 20th. And for what? So I could have a perfect holiday that nobody actually remembered being perfect? So I could prove something to people who weren't even paying attention?

The turning point came when my sister showed up to Christmas dinner with store-bought rolls and a pie from the grocery store bakery. I watched my mother's face. I waited for the judgment, the disappointment, the "well, that's not how we do things."

But you know what my mother said? "Thank God. Now I can actually enjoy dinner instead of being in the kitchen the whole time."

And something in me broke open that day. Not in a bad way—in a free way.

Because I realized that my mother had been carrying that expectation just as heavy as I was. She'd never actually wanted to make everything from scratch. She'd been doing it because she thought that's what was expected of her. And she'd passed that burden down to me without even realizing it.

That's what expectations do. They're generational. They're inherited. And they're almost never actually what we want.

Permission to Let Go of Perfect

I'm going to say something that might feel radical, depending on where you come from:

You don't have to have a perfect holiday.

In fact, I'm going to go further: there's no such thing as a perfect holiday. It doesn't exist. It never has. It never will.

What does exist is the myth of a perfect holiday. You know the one—it's in the movies and the magazines. Everyone's smiling. The house is immaculate. The food is delicious. Nobody argues. Nobody cries. Nobody feels lonely or left out or grieving or broke.

It's a lie, honey. A beautiful, well-marketed lie.

And we've been killing ourselves trying to make it real.

Perfectionism isn't just about the holidays. It's a way of living that we've been taught is virtuous. We've been told that perfectionism means we care. That it means we're responsible. That it means we love the people in our lives.

But perfectionism is actually a cage. It's a cage we build ourselves, and then we hand the key to everyone else.

When you're trying to be perfect, you're not actually present. You're performing. You're managing. You're controlling. You're so worried about how things look that you miss how things actually feel.

Here's what I know to be true: the holidays people actually remember aren't the perfect ones. They're the messy ones. They're the ones where something went wrong and you laughed about it. They're the ones where you burned the turkey and ordered pizza instead. They're the ones where you sat around in your pajamas and just talked.

The holidays people remember are the ones where they felt seen. Where they felt loved. Where they felt like they mattered more than the presentation.

So I'm giving you permission right now to let go of perfect.

Let go of the perfect house. Let go of the perfect meal. Let go of the perfect outfit and the perfect attitude and the perfect family gathering.

What if instead, you aimed for real?

Real is so much better than perfect. Real is sustainable. Real is joyful. Real is where actual connection happens.

Real might look like: you cook what you can, you buy what you can't, and you don't apologize for either one. Real might look like: you set a time limit on family gatherings so you don't spend the whole day managing conflict. Real might look like: you buy thoughtful gifts that fit your budget, not your guilt. Real might look like: you acknowledge that this holiday is different because someone you love isn't here, and that's okay.

Real is honest. And honey, we need more honesty during the holidays, not less.

Setting Boundaries Before the Chaos Hits

Why boundaries matter before the holidays hit? Because once the chaos starts, it's too late. You're in reactive mode. You're managing crisis. You don't have the mental space to set new boundaries.

So we do it now. We do it before everyone arrives. We do it before the stress kicks in.

Here's how to set boundaries before the holidays hit:

First, get clear on what your boundaries are.

What do you need to protect? Your time? Your money? Your energy? Your mental health? Your relationship with your kids? Your sleep?

Get specific. Don't just say "I need boundaries." Say "I need to protect my sleep, so I'm going to bed at 10 PM every night, no exceptions."

Second, communicate your boundaries clearly.

Don't hint. Don't hope people will figure it out. Tell them.

"I'm setting a budget of $50 per gift this year."

"I'm not available after 8 PM on weeknights."

"I need one morning a week to myself."

"I'm not discussing politics at the dinner table."

Say it clearly. Say it kindly. But say it like you mean it.

Third, be prepared for pushback.

Some people won't like your boundaries. They'll try to negotiate. They'll try to guilt you. They'll try to convince you that you're being selfish or unreasonable.

You're not. You're taking care of yourself.

When someone pushes back, you can say: "I understand this is disappointing, but this is what I need. I hope you can respect that."

And then you stick to it.

Fourth, follow through.

If someone crosses your boundary, you have to enforce it. That might mean leaving the room. That might mean ending the visit. That might mean not inviting them next year.

Boundaries without consequences aren't boundaries—they're just suggestions.

Preparing Your Heart

Before the holidays hit, we need to prepare more than just our schedules and our homes. We need to prepare our hearts.

Because the holidays aren't just logistical. They're emotional. They're spiritual. They're deep.

And if we don't prepare our hearts, we're going to get blindsided by the feelings that come up.

What mindset shifts do you need?

What beliefs are you carrying into the holidays? "I have to do everything." "I have to make everyone happy." "I have to be perfect." "I have to prove my love with what I do."

Those beliefs are going to run your holiday. So we need to shift them.

What if instead, you believed: "I get to choose what matters." "I can't control other people's happiness." "Real is better than perfect." "My presence is enough."

Write those down. Repeat them. Let them sink in.

And let's talk about grief.

Because the holidays bring up grief in ways nothing else does.

Maybe you're grieving someone who died. Maybe you're grieving a relationship that ended. Maybe you're grieving the life you thought you'd have. Maybe you're grieving the version of yourself that existed before everything changed.

If you're grieving this holiday season, I want you to know: your grief is valid. Your loss is real. The person you're missing mattered. And you get to take all the time you need to process that.

The holidays don't have to erase your grief. Your grief gets to exist alongside the holidays.

Before You Walk Into the Storm

So here's what I want you to do before the holidays hit:

Get real with yourself about your expectations. Which ones are actually yours? Which ones did you inherit? Which ones are you ready to let go of?

Give yourself permission to let go of perfect. Permission to do less. Permission to say no. Permission to grieve. Permission to be human.

Set one boundary. Just one. Communicate it clearly. And commit to enforcing it.

Prepare your heart. Shift your mindset. Honor your grief. Protect your peace.

You're not lost. You're becoming. And the porch light is always on.

Want to Go Deeper?

Listen to this post come to life in Part 1: Before the Storm of The Porch Light Circle podcast—"Coming Home to Yourself During the Holidays." Streaming now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and everywhere you listen.

Grab the Complete Holiday Journal

If today's post touched something in you, you're ready for the Coming Home to Yourself: The Complete Holiday Journal.

Inside, you'll get everything from all three episodes of the podcast series—journal prompts, reflection questions, boundary-setting worksheets, grief processing pages, and more. All designed to help you navigate the holidays with grace and come home to yourself.

Get yours for just $37 at stan.store/changeyourcourseonline

Join me on the porch weekly/biweekly for my podcast: The Porch Light Circle

Take What You Need

You don't have to fix everything today. You just have to start listening again. To your body. To your boundaries. To that quiet inner whisper that says:

"I'm allowed to have a holiday that feels good."

See you next week on the porch, where the light is always on.

—Meredith 🍵