The December Pull: Why We Overspend, Overcommit, and Seek Belonging During the Holidays

It’s December 10th.

You’ve already spent more than you planned. You’ve said yes to another holiday gathering even though you’re exhausted. You’re scrolling past images of perfect trees, coordinated outfits, and joyful family moments, and something in you feels behind.

What’s driving this isn’t a lack of discipline or willpower.
It’s a powerful mix of attachment needs, inherited family expectations, and the targeted messages of holiday culture.

December doesn’t just bring celebrations. It activates our desire to belong, to be seen as good or generous, to meet expectations, and to avoid disappointing the people we care about. When those needs come online, our choices are shaped by more than intention alone.

How Attachment and Family Systems Shape the Season

Attachment forms early. It’s not about blame or diagnosis. It’s about how closeness, safety, approval, and belonging were experienced in our families.

For some people, the holidays feel relatively spacious.

When the Holidays Feel Spacious

• relationships feel secure

• traditions feel flexible

• boundaries are respected

• love doesn’t need to be earned

• expectations are clear or minimal

For others, December brings a familiar kind of pressure.

When Old Family Systems Are Activated

• pressure to perform gratitude

• pressure to keep the peace

• pressure to host, give, or overextend

• pressure to meet unspoken expectations

• pressure to hold the family together

Even adults with their own homes, careers, and families often slip back into familiar roles: the responsible one, the giver, the organizer, the one who smooths tension or makes things “nice.”

This isn’t a personal failure.
It’s attachment meeting tradition.

Unmet Needs: When Emotional and Material Realities Collide

The holidays don’t just stir emotions. They also highlight material realities.

Rising costs.
Unequal access to resources.
The desire to give children what we didn’t have.
The fear of falling behind.

For many families (especially immigrant families and communities shaped by colonialism and capitalism) December has long meant stretching, sacrificing, and doing more with less. Survival and dignity often depended on appearing “okay,” even when resources were thin.

Emotional and material needs become tightly linked:

• wanting children to feel special

• wanting parents to feel proud

• wanting the holiday to feel meaningful

• wanting to look like we’re doing okay

These aren’t shallow wants. They’re rooted in care, history, and survival.

The Marketing Mirror: Why Holiday Ads Tap Our Need to Belong

Holiday marketing doesn’t just sell products. It reflects our longings back to us.

It quietly suggests:

• this is what good parents do

• this is how love is shown

• this is how you keep up

• this is how you belong

These messages land not because we’re easily influenced, but because they echo needs we already carry. December is when people are most emotionally open, reflective, and sensitive to comparison. Marketing is designed around that reality.

Often, what we’re buying isn’t the item itself, but the feeling we hope it will create: reassurance, closeness, pride, or relief.

Aspirations and Isolation: Why Influencers Offer Connection

This is also why influencers have such pull during the holidays.

They don’t just offer recommendations. They offer identity, validation, and a sense of community. When family dynamics feel complicated or traditions feel heavy, it makes sense to look elsewhere for connection.

Curated homes, routines, and lifestyles offer a temporary sense of belonging. Wanting that connection isn’t a flaw. It’s attachment doing what attachment does.

The Scarcity Trap: Why “Opportunity” Groups Peak in December

December is also peak season for MLMs and similar “opportunity” spaces.

They tend to show up when people are:

• financially stretched

• emotionally tired

• craving stability

• longing for hope or a fresh start

They rarely lead with numbers. They lead with belonging, encouragement, and identity.

“You’re not just joining a business.”
“You’re joining a family.”

I understand the pull of this personally.

In my early twenties, I was serving as an AmeriCorps VISTA member and had taken what felt like a vow of poverty. At the time, it felt principled. I was trying to escape the chaos of my life and the bar industry and build a life rooted in service and meaning. In hindsight, it was also a path far more accessible to people with financial safety nets than I had.

That holiday season, I went home broke and idealistic, and a childhood friend tried to recruit me into Primerica. I was angry. I recognized it as a pyramid scheme, and I remembered how, years earlier, I had almost joined Cutco when I was desperate for money.

I wasn’t going to do that again.

Instead of confronting him directly, I leaned hard into my service identity. I played a kind of secular Mother Teresa, explaining that I couldn’t possibly join because I was committed to a life of poverty and selfless service.

It was half resistance, half performance.

Looking back now, I can see the irony. The MLM pitch and my own devotion to sacrifice were two sides of the same coin. Both offered meaning. Both offered belonging. Both framed sacrifice as a virtue.

That realization came later. At the time, I was just trying to survive December with my values intact.

How Holiday Pressure Strains Family Dynamics

All of this plays out inside family systems.

Gift-giving becomes symbolic.
Spending becomes emotional.
Boundaries blur.
Old conflicts resurface.

Many people overspend or overgive not because they want to, but because they’re trying to preserve harmony, prove love, or avoid guilt.

December quietly asks many of us the same question:

“Am I doing enough?”

A Gentler Way to Be With This Season: Returning to Yourself

The goal isn’t to eliminate the pull of December, but to soften its grip. Awareness creates space.

The next time you feel the pressure rising, you might gently pause and ask yourself:

• What feeling am I hoping this will give me?

• Whose expectations am I responding to?

• Is this about connection, obligation, or both?

• Would I choose this if there were less pressure?

Answering honestly isn’t a judgment.
It’s an act of self-loyalty.

Looking Ahead

December makes visible what’s often operating quietly all year: the ways our choices are shaped by attachment, family systems, cultural expectations, and material realities.

Next month, this series will continue by looking more closely at family loyalty, emotional roles, and why the holidays activate patterns many of us thought we had outgrown. The very patterns many of us didn’t choose — but learned.

For now, gentleness matters.

Some of the needs showing up this month are old.
Some are deeply understandable.
And none of them make you weak.

They make you human.

The “Puerto Rican” in Me

As a woman of color who has had to navigate environments where defense mechanisms were shaped by the realities of living in marginalized communities, the complexity of my healing journey is further compounded. When I find myself in moments of anger, I am acutely aware of the ways in which I was forced to defend myself in the past come to the surface. The colonization experienced by my ancestors is echoed in the expressions of my rage, adding layers of historical and systemic trauma to my personal experiences. When did I begin to associate the experience of feeling deep, intense, anger with my identity as a Puerto Rican?

Growing up in environments where survival often meant adopting behaviors and attitudes that were born out of the struggle against oppression, I learned to protect myself using mechanisms that were shaped by the realities of systemic inequality and injustice. This has deeply influenced the way I navigate and express my emotions, particularly anger. I have had to confront the ways in which these coping mechanisms, while necessary for survival in those environments, may not always serve me well in my current context.

 In moments of intense anger, I find that the "Puerto Rican" comes out (a manifestation I recognize is rooted in the programmed association of my ethnicity with passion and rage) and I am reminded of the generational trauma and resilience that have been passed down through my lineage. I am reminded of the ways in which my ancestors were forced to fight for their survival and dignity in the face of immense adversity. My rage becomes not only a personal expression but also a manifestation of the collective pain and resilience of my community.

Navigating the intersection of my personal healing journey with the historical and systemic context of being a woman of color adds layers of complexity to my self-reflection. I am constantly grappling with the challenge of honoring my history and experiences while also striving to transcend the limitations and traumas that have been imposed upon me by societal injustices.

"It is through this deep personal engagement that I am better equipped to approach my work. As a clinician, I recognize that the unique intersection of my identity and experiences shapes my approach to healing., It informs my understanding of the profound impact that systemic oppression and intergenerational trauma can have on individuals and communities of color. It also deepens my commitment to creating a space where these experiences are acknowledged, validated, and addressed with cultural humility and sensitivity.

In my journey of healing, I am learning to integrate the complexities of my identity and experiences into a narrative of empowerment and resilience. I am committed to engaging with my anger and pain in ways that honor the historical and systemic context from which they emerge while also seeking pathways to healing and growth that are affirming and transformative. This process requires a deep sense of self-awareness, compassion, and a commitment to dismantling the internalized oppressions that shape my responses to the world around me.

As I continue to navigate the complexities of my healing journey as a woman of color, I am reminded of the strength and resilience that have sustained me, and I am committed to cultivating spaces of healing that honor the fullness of our experiences and identities, acknowledging the profound impact of historical and systemic injustices while striving for liberation and wholeness.