The holidays arrive each year wrapped in lights, music and expectations. We’re told this is the season of togetherness, of full tables and louder laughter, of joy that seems mandatory. But for many people, the holidays don’t feel warm at all. They feel empty. Quiet. Heavy.

Being alone during the holidays is often treated as a personal failure, as if something went wrong, as if you missed a turn somewhere in life and ended up here by mistake. But loneliness this time of year isn’t rare, and it’s not a weakness. It’s a shared human experience, especially for those carrying grief.

Loss changes the calendar. It turns familiar dates into reminders. A chair at the table stays empty. A tradition no longer makes sense. The holidays amplify what’s already missing. And when everyone else seems to be celebrating, grief can feel isolating, even shameful.

The truth is, many people are hurting quietly.

Some have lost a spouse, a parent, a child or a close friend. Some are spending their first holiday without someone who shaped every season before. Others are grieving relationships that ended, families that fractured or lives that didn’t turn out as expected. Not all grief comes with a funeral. But it all carries weight.

Support programs such as GriefShare exist because this kind of pain is common. At http://www.griefshare.org, people who are grieving can find structured support and connections with others who understand what loss feels like. GriefShare offers a 13-week group experience where participants watch videos on grief topics and talk about coping in a safe, welcoming space. The program has helped more than a million people find hope and healing through shared stories and community.

That realization matters. It reframes loneliness from something to hide into something to acknowledge.

The holidays, in particular, make grief louder. Society sends a clear message this time of year: you should be happy, you should be grateful, and family should surround you. When those things are missing, people often blame themselves. They force smiles. They attend gatherings they’re not ready for. Or they withdraw completely, afraid their sadness will make others uncomfortable.

But grief doesn’t follow a schedule. It doesn’t pause for Christmas or New Year’s. And pretending it’s not there doesn’t make it go away.

Recognizing holiday loneliness as a shared experience gives people permission to be honest — honest about what hurts, what’s been lost, and what they need. That honesty isn’t self-pity. It’s survival.

For people in Central Pennsylvania, there are local resources that can help turn that honesty into connection and support.

Professional counselors and therapists can provide personalized care for those coping with loss. Brighter Visions Counseling, Wellspring Counseling Center and Clear Concepts Counseling in Lewistown all offer grief and mental health services tailored to individual needs. Firstfruits Counseling, June E. Bricker, LPC, and Verus Ridge Counseling in Burnham provide additional options for licensed, compassionate support.

Hospice and bereavement programs also play a vital role. The Journey Program through Hospice of Central Pennsylvania offers both group and individual grief support for people trying to navigate life after loss.

Community mental health services like Community Services Group (CSG) and Merakey can connect residents with peer programs, therapy and emotional wellness resources. Local organizations such as Supportive Concepts-Families and Alcoholics Anonymous also provide fellowship and help for those facing isolation linked to substance use, stress or major life change.

Knowing where to turn matters. Asking for help doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re human.

The most damaging myth of the holidays is that everyone else is fine. They’re not. Many are just better at hiding it. The neighbor with the lights on the house may be grieving. The coworker talking about holiday plans may be dreading them. The person sitting alone at home may not want to be rescued; they may want to be seen.

Grief doesn’t mean there’s no hope. It means love existed. And love doesn’t disappear when someone is gone. It changes form. It becomes memory. It becomes longing. It becomes pain. Over time, it can also become connection.

The holidays will never feel the same after loss. That’s not failure. That’s life. But being alone doesn’t mean being abandoned. And feeling lonely doesn’t mean you’re alone in your loneliness.

This season, the most important message may be the simplest one: if you’re struggling, you’re not the only one. If the holidays hurt, you’re not doing them wrong. You’re responding to loss the same way countless others have before you.

And somewhere nearby, there are people who understand exactly how that feels.