How to Survive the Holidays in a New City
Learning to belong in places that still feel borrowed.
There’s a particular kind of quiet that comes with the holidays when you don’t go home.
For the last two years, Nashville has been home for me. I’ve learned its streets, found my favorite restaurants, got settled into a new church home and built relationships that matter. And yet, this year, I’m not able to go home for the holidays and that reality has carried a very heavy heartache.
It’s bittersweet, and as someone who is used to being alone, I didn’t expect.
I’m deeply grateful to be embraced by new people.
Friends who invite me to their tables, communities that open their arms, moments that remind me I’m not alone. At the same time, there’s a tenderness that shows up when I observe other families gathering, traditions unfolding, stories being retold without me in the room where they began.
Holding gratitude and grief at the same time is one of adulthood’s strangest lessons.
The Bittersweet Middle
Being in a new city during the holidays often places you in the in‑between:
You’re not isolated, but you’re not quite home.
You’re included, but you’re also watching from the outside.
You’re building something new while missing what shaped you.
It can feel disorienting.
If that’s you this season, I want you to know: there’s nothing wrong with feeling both thankful and sad. Love stretches across distance, and the ache you feel is proof of connection.
How to Cope When You’re Away From Home
Here are a few grounding practices that have helped me navigate the holidays in a new city:
1. Name What You’re Feeling Out Loud
Don’t minimize it. Say, “I’m grateful, and I’m grieving.” Both can exist. When you name it, the weight shifts from confusion to clarity.
2. Create One Small Tradition of Your Own
It doesn’t have to be elaborate. A specific meal, a candle you light each night, a playlist you only play during the holidays. Ritual anchors you when everything else feels unfamiliar.
3. Let People Love You Without Guilt
Accept invitations. Say yes to community. Being welcomed by new people doesn’t betray your family—it expands your capacity for belonging.
4. Stay Connected, But Set Gentle Boundaries
FaceTime, texts, and photos can be comforting. Choose connection that nourishes you, and step back when comparison or longing becomes too heavy.
5. Remember: This Season Is Not Permanent
This year is a chapter, not the whole story. You are allowed to survive seasons you wouldn’t choose and still grow in them.
Solo Holiday Fun (When You’re On Your Own)
If you find yourself with quiet days or empty evenings, here are some gentle, intentional ways to make the most of them:
Host a solo movie night — pick comfort films or childhood favorites and make it an event.
Cook one meaningful dish — something from home, or something new that becomes your tradition.
Explore your city slowly — holiday lights, local cafés, bookstores, or a long reflective walk.
Write letters — to family, friends, or even your future self.
Serve somewhere local — soup kitchens, donation drives, or church outreaches can reframe the season.
Create instead of consume — write, make music, paint, journal, or pray without pressure.
Sometimes honoring the season looks less like celebration and more like gentleness.
A Prayer for Those Struggling This Season
Father God,
We lift up your son or daughter right now.
We know You are Jehovah El Roi - the God who sees me - please see us in this moment.
You see the ones who are celebrating loudly, and You also see the ones holding it together quietly.
For those spending the holidays in unfamiliar places. Away from family, tradition, and what once felt like home.
Draw near now.
Sit with them.
Sit with the ache that words can’t fix.
You say in Psalm 34:18, "The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
We are admitting our hearts are broken and we are holding grief that shows up alongside gratitude.
Comfort us in this moment. Show us that You are with us.
Give strength to those navigating empty spaces, peace to those carrying complicated family stories, and tenderness to those learning how to belong again.
Remind us that distance does not erase connection, that love travels farther than geography, and that You are present in every city, every room, every quiet night.
Let this season be marked not only by what is missing, but by what You are gently rebuilding.
Thank you Lord for the answered prayer.
We ask all this in Jesus’ name,
Amen.
A Quiet Benediction
If you’re spending the holidays in a new city, I hope you find moments of unexpected warmth. I hope you allow yourself to feel what you feel without rushing it away. And I hope you remember that belonging isn’t only found in places, it’s carried within you. It’s shaped by where you’ve been and where you’re becoming.
You’re not behind. You’re not forgotten. And you’re not alone. Even when it feels like home isn’t in your grasp.
Grace to you this season.