A Values-Led Christmas When You’re Running on Empty
An Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) approach for NHS, social care, and education staff
If you work in health, social care, or education, Christmas tends to arrive in one of two ways:
The crash: the winter term ends (or the rota finally eases) and your body drops through the floor. You over-indulge to compensate because it’s the first time you’ve been allowed to stop.
The winter crisis: there is no stop. You’re still holding the line while everyone else posts matching pyjamas and “slow mornings”.
Either way, you’re tired - and that’s exactly when the inner critic turns up.
Not quietly. Not politely. More like a rude dinner guest you didn’t invite, but who’s somehow made it past the front door.
It arrives with a plate, a judgement, and a list of demands:
“You should be more cheerful.”
“Don’t be a burden.”
“Make an effort.”
“Be the perfect guest / son / daughter.”
“You’ve got time off now - why aren’t you better?”
ACT doesn’t tell you to throw this guest out. (You probably can’t.)
But it does teach you something far more useful:
You can let it be in the room without letting it run Christmas.
You can’t stop it showing up…
…but you absolutely don’t have to let it sit at the head of the table, carve the turkey, and give everyone a performance review between courses.
The inner critic: loud, rude… and weirdly anxious
Here’s the thing about this guest: it’s obnoxious, but it’s not confident.
Your inner critic is often the part of you that learned, somewhere along the line:
“If I get it right, I’ll be safe.”
“If I don’t disappoint anyone, I’ll belong.”
“If I’m useful, I’m allowed to rest… eventually.”
In caring roles, that strategy can be effective at work. High standards keep people safe. Responsibility matters.
But at Christmas, that same part doesn’t soothe or motivate you - it micro-manages you.
It tries to control the whole day so you don’t feel guilt, awkwardness, judgement, or disapproval - while paradoxically ensuring you feel all of them at once.
So the aim isn’t to “get rid of it”.
It’s to stop giving it authority.
The Christmas move that changes everything: “You can stay. You can’t host.”
If you take one idea from this post, let it be this:
The inner critic gets to attend. It doesn’t get to host.
In ACT terms, you’re practising a shift from being run by the critic to being guided by your values.
So when the critic pipes up like an unruly child, you might respond like a calm, firm host:
“I can hear you. Have a seat.”
“No, you’re not carving the turkey.”
“You’re not deciding the schedule.”
“You’re not in charge of how I speak to myself today.”
Not aggressive. Not dramatic. Just clear. Assertive.
Step 1: Choose one value - the “seat at the head of the table”
This Christmas, you don’t need a 12-point plan. You need a direction.
Pick one value you want to lead with - the part of you you actually want at the head of the table.
For this audience, it’s often one of these:
Recovery (letting your nervous system come down properly)
Self-respect (boundaries, honesty, not performing)
Connection (real presence, not managing)
Simplicity (good-enough Christmas, not a production)
Kindness (including how you speak to yourself)
A helpful question:
If Christmas didn’t feel like a test, what direction would I choose for the day?
Choose the direction. That’s your value.
Step 2: Choose one “committed action” - the thing you’ll do even if the critic complains
This is where values become real.
Committed action means: one small step in your chosen direction, even with discomfort in the room.
Your rude guest will complain. That’s expected. It’s what rude guests do.
You’re not waiting for the critic to approve - you’re choosing anyway.
Here are three tailored “committed actions” for the most common Christmas scenarios:
If you’re in the crash after term/shift chaos
When your body finally stops, it’s common to swing into “reward mode” - late nights, booze, comfort eating, scrolling, numbing. Not because you’re weak. Because you’re depleted.
If your value is Recovery, your committed action isn’t necessarily the common and grandiose “be healthy”. It could be:
One genuine soft-landing ritual per day.
Examples:
15 minutes of daylight movement (even if it’s raining sideways)
one proper meal at a normal time (an anchor, not a diet)
shower + clean clothes before the sofa swallows you whole
two early nights across the week, not every night forever
When the critic sneers, “You’re wasting time,” you stay the host:
“Recovery is the plan. You can come along for the ride, but you aren’t the one driving.”
If you’re in the winter crisis and can’t fully switch off
If you’re still on shift, covering gaps, or holding things together, Christmas can feel like you’re squeezing life into tiny cracks.
If your value is Self-respect or Kindness, your committed action could be:
One boundary you take seriously - even if it’s small.
Examples:
“I’ll take my break. Properly.”
“I’m not doing family logistics on my one day off.”
“I’m not available for family drama while I’m on shift.”
“Home will be ‘good enough’ this week.”
“My work emails will be switched off outside of work.”
The inner critic will call you selfish. It always does when you set limits.
You respond:
“You can stay. Boundaries are happening.”
If you’re travelling to be the perfect guest / perfect child
If you’re travelling across the country to see family, it’s easy to confuse connection with keeping everyone happy. You end up monitoring the mood, anticipating needs, smoothing tension - and calling it “being close”. But meaningful connection isn’t management. It’s presence.
If your value is Connection, your committed action could be:
One small moment of real presence - without fixing, performing, or multitasking.
Examples:
Put your phone away and give someone ten minutes of full attention.
Ask one question you actually care about (“How have you really been?”) and stay present long enough to hear the answer without interrupting.
Let there be a pause without rushing to fill it. (Silence is also communication).
If you feel yourself “hosting”, gently come back to being a person in the room.
Your inner critic will try to drag you back into performance: “Don’t be awkward. Say the right thing. Keep it smooth.”
You can let it mutter - and still choose presence. That’s connection.
The line to practice when the rude guest gets loud
When you feel yourself being pulled into old patterns - people-pleasing, over-functioning, over-indulging - try this:
“I can hear you. And I’m choosing my value anyway.”
That’s the whole skill:
not a perfect Christmas, but a directed one.
A final image to hold onto
Picture the table.
Your inner critic is there, tapping its glass, criticising the gravy, and offering unsolicited feedback about your life choices.
You don’t need to throw it out.
You don’t need to argue with it.
You simply decide:
It doesn’t sit at the head of the table.
It doesn’t carve the turkey.
It doesn’t hand out grades.
It doesn’t get the final say.
Your values lead. Your actions follow. The critic can mutter into its sprouts.
If you’d like support with perfectionism, burnout patterns, or building values-led boundaries (especially in caring professions), you can book a free 15-minute consultation at Ardolino Counselling.
