This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at TCU chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.
We talk a lot about holiday magic, but what we’re really seeing is seasonal effort. People are kinder, more generous, and more emotionally available during the holidays, turning love into a limited-edition commodity, something that is performed rather than practiced. And this attitude raises a bigger question: why do we act like kindness has an expiration date?
And don’t even get me started on relationships. Every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year, it feels like half the world suddenly scrambles to get into a relationship just so they’re not “alone for the holidays.”
Love shouldn’t be a trend.
Love shouldn’t be a seasonal aesthetic.
It shouldn’t take twinkling lights for people to act like they care.
Honestly, it’s not even just “cuffing season” relationships that bother me. It’s also the performative vibe I get when I see some people’s approach to volunteering. I love that people show up, donate, help, and pour into their communities. Seeing people care is beautiful. But sometimes it feels like the energy behind it is more about being seen doing the right thing than actually wanting to do it. It’s like kindness becomes a photo op, a checklist item, or a way to feel good for a moment, instead of something that is meaningful and consistent. And the thing is, I don’t want anyone to stop helping; I just wish that same holiday enthusiasm stayed alive even when it’s not the “right moment” or when no one’s watching, because people still need support on random Tuesdays and communities still need love in the middle of April. Acts of kindness shouldn’t depend on a vibe; they should be woven into everyday life. Maybe that’s why I’m so sensitive to it: I care deeply all the time, so it’s hard to watch compassion come and go like a trend instead of something steady and human.
Real love, whether it’s romantic, platonic, or community-based, is an all-year thing. It’s showing up in April when everyone’s stressed, in July when the world is too hot and no one has patience, in September when you’re overwhelmed and tired and not in the mood to be soft. It’s giving, even when no one is watching. It’s caring, even when your Instagram feed isn’t telling you to.
Love is consistent.
Love is every day.
Love is not a holiday decoration you put up and take down.
And maybe the real reason it gets to me is because I fall for it every single time. I see people acting sweeter, talking softer, and showing little bursts of affection, and a part of me wants to believe it’s real. I get hopeful. I start thinking that maybe they finally mean what they say and care the way I care. But then the season passes, and so does the energy. And I’m left realizing that I read too much into it, that people don’t always have the heartfelt motives I imagine. It annoys me because I want to believe the best in people, and sometimes that empathy blinds me. I love all year long, consistently and wholeheartedly, so when others seem to turn it on and off, it leaves me confused, wondering if I’m the one misunderstanding what love looks like for them.
I guess what I’m saying is… I wish people wouldn’t wait until the holidays to act like they have hearts. I wish they didn’t treat love like it’s limited to specific seasons. Because the world would be so much softer, so much better, if people remembered that love doesn’t expire on January 1st. Love isn’t seasonal, but people make it feel that way. And honestly, we deserve better than that.