A Note For December
A letter from Umbrella Social
December has a way of asking a lot of us.
It arrives already carrying expectations—joy, magic, togetherness, warmth. Lights are strung up. Music changes. Conversations shift. And whether we want it to or not, the season invites reflection: on family, on belonging, on tradition, on what we’ve lost and what we’re still holding.
But the truth is, December is not just one thing.
It is not just Christmas.
It is not just celebration.
It is not just joy.
December holds many holidays at once—and many experiences alongside them.
For some, this season is sacred.
For others, it is cultural.
For others still, it is complicated, heavy, or quietly endured.
Winter Solstice marks the return of the light—a reminder, rooted in nature, that even the longest nights give way to morning. Yule honors cycles, rest, and renewal. Kwanzaa centers community, ancestry, continuity, and collective care. Christmas, for many, is about family, memory, tradition, and ritual—religious or otherwise.
And for some people, December isn’t about a holiday at all.
It’s about grief.
It’s about absence.
It’s about getting through the day without unraveling.
All of these experiences exist at the same time. None of them cancel each other out.
One of the quiet pressures of this season is the idea that it’s supposed to feel a certain way—that joy should be obvious, that gratitude should be easy, that togetherness should be healing by default.
But human experience is rarely that simple.
There are people who love this time of year deeply.
There are people who dread it.
There are people who feel both, sometimes within the same hour.
There are people gathering around full tables, and people eating alone.
There are people honoring traditions passed down through generations, and people trying to create new ones because the old ones hurt too much.
There are people celebrating loudly, and people grieving quietly.
And all of that is real.
At Umbrella Social, we don’t believe in flattening human experience to make it more palatable. We don’t believe in pretending that one narrative fits everyone—especially during a season that carries so much history, culture, and emotion.
Community, to us, isn’t about matching experiences.
It’s about making room for difference.
It’s about knowing that connection doesn’t require everyone to feel the same way, celebrate the same thing, or move through the season at the same pace.
Sometimes community looks like gathering.
Sometimes it looks like checking in.
Sometimes it looks like sitting beside someone without trying to fix anything.
And sometimes it looks like simply saying: you’re allowed to be here exactly as you are.
If December is joyful for you, we honor that.
If December is heavy, we honor that too.
If it’s a mix of both—welcome to being human.
This season doesn’t ask us to perform happiness.
It asks us to be honest.
It asks us to remember that light and darkness coexist—not just in the world around us, but within us. That warmth can be shared without being forced. That presence matters more than perfection.
As this year draws to a close, Umbrella Social holds space for all of it: the celebrations, the grief, the quiet moments, the complicated feelings that don’t fit neatly into a holiday card.
However you’re moving through this season—whether surrounded by people or seeking solitude, honoring tradition or stepping away from it—we’re glad you’re here.
You don’t have to carry December alone.
Under the Umbrella ☂️
If this season has stirred something in you—joy, sadness, reflection, or something harder to name—you’re welcome here.
You might consider:
What does connection look like for you this December?
What are you honoring, remembering, or letting go of?
How do you want to show up for yourself or others in a way that feels true?
There’s no right answer. Just space to be human.
Umbrella Social exists to hold that space—especially when things are layered, nuanced, and deeply felt.
We’re grateful to share this season with you.