Favorite December Traditions

That Have Little to Do With the Holidays!

December has a way of sneaking up on us and then immediately asking for everything: reflection, celebration, connection, grief, joy, nostalgia, family systems navigation, and somehow the emotional bandwidth to make it all feel meaningful. It’s a month full of contrast, which may be exactly why traditions matter so much, especially the ones we don’t always name.

As a therapist, I love December not because it’s calm (it rarely is), but because it’s revealing. The rituals we return to [intentionally or accidentally] tell us a lot about who we are, what we needed this year, and how we’ve been coping. Which brings me to one of my favorite modern December traditions.

Spotify Wrapped: A Personality Test Disguised as Fun

Spotify Wrapped isn’t just a recap. It’s a mirror.

Every December, people eagerly tap through their year-in-review, half-joking and half-bracing themselves for what their listening habits might say about them. And then we share it. Publicly. Casually. Sometimes defensively.

From a therapeutic perspective, Spotify Wrapped functions like a surprisingly accurate personality assessment and relational tool. Music is one of our most common forms of emotional regulation. We use it to soothe, energize, focus, dissociate, grieve, or feel understood when words fall short.

Looking at a year of listening can raise powerful questions:

• What emotions were you drawn to this year?
• Were you comforting yourself or motivating yourself?
• Did your music shift during stressful seasons or transitions?
• What did you return to when things felt hard?

Wrapped also invites connection in a low-risk way. Sharing it says, “This is what my inner world sounded like this year.” We learn about our friends, partners, siblings, and even ourselves through something that feels playful and light, yet deeply personal. It asks very little of us while reflecting so much back.

And yes, if Spotify Wrapped brought up feelings, insights, or confusion, it’s absolutely something that can be explored in therapy.

Another Therapist Fav: Elf on the Shelf and the Art of Choosing What Fits

Another December tradition that deserves a therapist’s curiosity: Elf on the Shelf.

Every year, parents quietly renegotiate this tradition behind the scenes. Is it magical? Is it exhausting? Is it turning into a nightly performance review of your creativity and capacity?

I actually love the pro-and-con conversations families have about it because they reflect something important: values-based decision making. Traditions don’t have to be inherited unquestioned. They can be adapted, paused, or declined altogether.

Helpful questions might sound like:

• Does this bring joy or pressure?
• Does it support connection or increase stress?
• Does it fit our family and this season?

There’s no universally correct answer, only what aligns with your values and nervous system right now.

Wintering Well: Therapy Meets Nordic Comfort

Many people also find themselves drawn to winter traditions rooted in Nordic culture, ideas like: hygge, daily rituals, and intentional coziness. These practices honor winter as a season of slowing down rather than pushing through.

Think simmer pots, warm lighting, grounding textures, cozy fabrics, simple crafts, puzzles, and predictable daily rituals. From a nervous system lens, these sensory experiences promote regulation. They send a quiet message of safety, warmth, and permission to rest.

Floating Week: When Routines Disappear and Time Starts to Feel Unreal

As a therapist, the Floating Week is one of my favorite December traditions, even though it is not one we intentionally plan. It is the quiet stretch between Christmas and New Year’s when routines loosen and time feels softer. Many people notice feeling foggy, restless, or emotional during this week and assume something is wrong, but from a therapeutic lens, it makes complete sense. Structure drops away, stimulation ends, and the nervous system finally has room to catch up after a full and demanding month. What feels like disorientation is often recovery.

I love the Floating Week because it creates a natural pause, a rare moment when reflection shows up without being forced. It invites us to notice what we want to carry forward and what we are ready to leave behind. When we stop trying to optimize it and allow it to be gentle, this in-between space becomes one of the most regulating and meaningful parts of December.

Honorable Mentions: Highly Relatable December Traditions

the traditions we don’t plan but somehow repeat every year:

• Forgetting at least one important item you meant to bring
• The familiar chaos of that family member saying something wildly unfiltered
• Someone getting sick on or right before Christmas
• That holiday treat you look forward to all year and immediately overconsume
• The same old stories being told again, and somehow still matter

These moments aren’t polished, but they’re honest. And often, they’re the ones that linger.

December traditions don’t matter because they’re perfect. They matter because they help us regulate, connect, and make meaning in a season that holds so much at once. If you notice yourself clinging (or resisting) to certain rituals, there’s wisdom there worth exploring.

And if all you did this December was survive, listen to the same song on repeat, and make it through, that counts, too.