Where Are You Vlogmas?
Written By : Hannah Corbett
The end of the year arrives quietly, then all at once. The holidays. Vlogmas. A familiar rush of twinkling lights, daily uploads, festive thumbnails, and cozy background music looping behind carefully edited lives. The internet flips a switch, and suddenly December is something to be watched.
It should feel comforting. Sometimes it does. And yet—this year, everyone seems to be over it.
Somewhere along the way, the holiday season online stopped feeling like a shared moment and started feeling like a performance. Days are documented down to the smallest detail, yet somehow feel empty. Morning routines blur into one another. Content becomes repetitive, oddly mundane, or impossibly aspirational—sometimes both at once.
I kept watching new videos, and kept coming back to the same question: Is this really what the holidays are about?
This isn’t about shaming ambition or beauty. Travel can be inspiring. Rituals can be grounding. There’s nothing wrong with wanting your December to feel special. But when Vlogmas becomes more about aesthetics than emotion, something essential gets lost.
The holidays were never meant to be optimized.
They were meant to be lived. Slowly. Imperfectly. Repeatedly. Traditions that don’t change because they don’t need to. The same movie every year. The same early morning plans. The same recipes that somehow taste better because they’re familiar. These moments don’t always translate on camera—but they’re the ones that stay.
Online, December has become transactional. Posting daily turns joy into obligation. Festivity becomes branding. Even gratitude can feel curated, packaged, and scheduled.
There’s also a quiet message woven into so much holiday content: that staying home is uninspiring, that ordinary days are something to escape from. But the truth is, the most meaningful parts of the season are often the least cinematic. A kitchen that smells like cinnamon. A late-night conversation. A drive with holiday music turned up too loud, nowhere in particular to go.
Vlogmas, once an invitation, now often feels like a comparison.
And maybe that’s why so many of us feel disconnected to it this season. Not envious, but tired. Tired of being told what joy should look like. Tired of watching the holidays unfold through someone else’s lens instead of our own. The most festive thing you can do might be letting a day exist without proof.
Maybe the future of holiday content isn’t about doing more—but about feeling more. Less spectacle. More soul. Less performance. More pause.
That’s what the holidays were always meant to be about.