by Maria Mylona

Not everyone fits naturally into the festive season. And that isn’t a sign of peculiarity or antisocial behaviour. It’s often a quieter experience — an inner need for calm, a fatigue that cannot carry noise, a sense that the extroversion imposed by the calendar isn’t for everyone.

Men who prefer withdrawal, especially during days that are “supposed” to be joyful, don’t shout it out. They don’t explain it. They haven’t learned that this stance is completely legitimate. Especially if they have experienced loss or if their physical or mental health doesn’t allow smiles around dinner tables. The social expectations of the holidays are built on a very specific script: lights, laughter, gatherings, gift exchanges. For someone with an introverted personality, or someone going through grief or internal instability, this pressure can feel disproportionately heavy. Yet often, he is the one who quietly hopes not to be forgotten. Contradictory or simply human?

Research shows that introversion isn’t a lack of sociability, but a different regulation. An introverted person does not avoid connection. They simply prefer it in depth, with meaning, in environments where they feel safe. Not as a social obligation, but as a choice. And this way of processing events and relationships during the holiday season may seem incompatible with the atmosphere of the time.

For some men, “Merry Christmas” is a wish that sounds flat or awkward. It’s not ingratitude. It’s that, for some, Christmas is loaded with silences, absences, or a desire to simply spend it quietly, without needing anything more. In such periods, the important thing isn’t to pull someone out of their home or encourage them to have fun. It’s to give them space to feel what they feel, without adding guilt for not participating in the collective cheer. Inner silence is not emptiness; it’s a way of processing, remembering, or simply emotional rest.

If we were to rewrite the social script of the holidays, perhaps we would include more understanding and less noise. There would be room for the one who sits quietly, who doesn’t feel like answering awkward questions, who simply wants to drift into the margins of the festive days. Perhaps the most meaningful “Merry Christmas” isn’t the one you say out loud, but the one you allow someone to experience – without pressure, without correction, without imposition. Maybe that’s where the deeper meaning of the holiday lies: in acceptance, in unconditional love, in a spirituality that doesn’t need bright lights or noise to be seen. After all, the birth of Christ took place in the silence of the night – not in celebration, but in humility, quietness, and a light that wasn’t loud, but simply illuminated.

Maria Mylona is a Health Psychologist and Integrative Psychotherapist / www.mariamylona.gr