Pocketful of Mojo

How to Celebrate Like it Matters (and it does)

Steph Season 2 Episode 34

Celebration isn’t extra; it’s essential. We unpack why so many of us learned to shrink our joy—thanks to stay-humble conditioning, perfectionist rules, and a lingering pandemic hangover—and how that habit quietly steals motivation, confidence, and connection. If you’ve ever skipped your own wins, mumbled through a birthday, or dreaded New Year’s because of the pressure to perform, this conversation hands you the tools to rewrite your ritual.

We dig into the psychology behind downplaying success, including the jinx myth and the fear of visibility that makes receiving love feel risky. Then we trace how COVID rewired our social stamina and turned loud milestones into quiet whispers, leaving many of us celebrating from the sidelines. You’ll hear clear signs of celebration deprivation—lower dopamine, fragile confidence, and low joy tolerance—and learn how to rebuild your “joy muscle” with small, repeatable actions that make big change over time.

Most importantly, we get practical. From a 10-second shoulder shimmy after sending the scary email to lighting the good candle because you are the occasion, we share micro-rituals that teach your brain to see progress and ask for more. We also talk about curating your circle to avoid people fatigue, reframing birthdays and New Year’s to prioritize intention over performance, and embracing a simple rule that changes everything: you get more of whatever you celebrate. Leave with a weekly challenge to notice and mark one win—small or big—so your life stops blurring and starts landing. If this episode brings some sparkle back, subscribe, share with a friend, and leave a review to help more listeners reclaim their joy.

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SPEAKER_00:

Well, hey there, bestie. Welcome back to Pocket Full of Mojo, the show that reminds you to sprinkle a little sparkle on your everyday life. Yeah, your life. The one that you keep forgetting is actually a masterpiece in progress. And today, ooh, baby, today we are talking about celebration. Not just champagne fountains and confetti cannons, although listen, I'm never mad at those, but we are going to zero in on the energy of celebration, the art of noticing your life, the practice of cheering for yourself. And we're gonna unpack why people are suddenly so down on celebrating anything. Like, oh, I don't celebrate my birthday, or New Year's Eve, hard pass, or celebrate when it's perfect, child perfect where? In this economy? So buckle up Buttercup, because today's episode, we're gonna be talking about why we stopped celebrating, how COVID played a role, why avoiding celebration drains your joy. And we're gonna look at social fatigue and who's in your current circle, because some of them maybe gotta go. And we're gonna take a look at big celebrations and tiny everyday ones. And you're gonna wanna stick around to the end because we're gonna be unpacking the spicy truth that celebration is how you get more of what you want. So buckle up because this one's got mojo sass and heart. So settle in and get ready because we're here to get tuned in, tapped in, and turned on. Okay, so let's hit the big question right up front. Why are people allergic to celebrating themselves? Like a few years ago, I congratulated a friend on this huge contract, like life-changing levels. And she goes, Yeah, yeah, thanks. I mean, I mean, it's not that big of a deal. And Bestie, I almost threw my purse. Like if that wasn't big enough to celebrate, what would be? Like winning the Nobel Prize while simultaneously rescuing a baby panda? And then I realized people aren't down on celebration because they don't care. They're down on it for a few reasons. So here's what I've uncovered so far. So either they grew up in the stay humble culture, you know, when you hear the messages of like, don't brag, don't shine too bright, don't make other people uncomfortable. And the translation there is like, minimize yourself so that you fit into spaces that were never built for your full self anyway. That sounds like some great A bullshit to me. Anybody? Anybody? And then there's like this conditioning that comes along with it, because a lot of us grew up in environments where celebrating yourself was basically treated like a felony. You say one good thing about yourself and suddenly, oh, you're full of yourself, or oh, you're showing off, or oh, look at you, you're being too much. So now, even as adults, the moment that we feel proud of something, that old conditioning jumps out like a referee with a whistle, blowing penalties on our joy. But inside, if we really listen, it's like, I just wanted to be happy for a second. Calm down. And then there's the people who think that celebrating jinxes things. I know, y'all. The don't celebrate yet, the universe is watching people. Sweetheart, if we're tiptoeing around the universe like it's a mody landlord, we need to talk. Because the if I celebrate I'll jinx it, that's just scarcity thinking. Like some folks operate like the universe is a petty ex who snatches things away from you the moment you get excited. And they avoid celebrating because they don't want to jinx the good things. But that's just old fear-based thinking that's disguised as superstition. Because celebration doesn't jinx anything. It signals your brain and the universe that you're ready for more. Or maybe it's the old perfectionist brain strikes again. Yeah, the I'll celebrate when it's better. Or it's always, oh, well, when I lose five pounds, I'll I'll feel good. Or when I hit this number, or when I fix this flaw. And it's the celebration version of like terms and conditions may apply. Because that perfectionism is saying, like, it's not big enough yet. It's not worthy of celebration. And perfectionists are gonna hold a celebration hostage until the achievement is worthy enough, which, spoiler alert, never actually happens. And if the win is too small, we dismiss it. And if it's a medium-sized win, we say, Well, next time I'll do it properly. And if it's big, then we panic because we don't know how to receive that level of attention. So the celebration gets postponed or just put into oblivion. Like, girl, at this point the balloons have deflated themselves. Or maybe it's the fact that celebration feels vulnerable. Like receiving love or being seen or just acknowledging your worth in a public setting. For some folks, that's more terrifying than a horror movie played at 2 a.m. in an empty house. Because celebration requires visibility. Even if it's just you clapping for yourself in your kitchen like you just won an Oscar for doing the dishes, that's fine. But being seen means being vulnerable, noticeable, and maybe, I don't know, maybe even admired. And for some people, that triggers every alarm in the emotional fire department. And staying small, well, it just feels safer than letting people see that you've grown and that you have some joy and that you're going through a glow-up. And it's like saying, hey, I did this amazing thing, don't tell anybody about it. And then there's the biggest reason. And yeah, we're going there. Because COVID, it had a major effect on celebration. COVID hit and suddenly celebration wasn't just discouraged, it was illegal. We got used to minimizing milestones and like whisper celebrating our birthdays and pretending that another year of survival didn't matter because, well, there's just too much going on. And that era rewired our brains to think that joy should be quiet, it's optional, and it should be delayed. And even though the world reopened, the emotional muscle that we used to celebrate, it never fully came back online. COVID didn't just cancel our plans, it canceled our practice of celebration. I remember hosting my first pandemic birthday on Zoom, and we were we were all singing happy birthday with that awkward leg, like a choir of glitching robots, and then someone's screen froze while blowing out a candle, and someone else was muted the entire time. And you know, yeah, it was cute and also traumatic. You know, we learned to celebrate from a distance, we learn to mute our joy, we learn to socialize inside a rectangle on our laptops. And when things open back up, our joy stamina girl, it's gone. And COVID did three big things to celebration. It shrank our emotional energy and capacity, it made gatherings feel like a sport that requires recovery and three days of rest. And it taught us to operate in survival mode, not celebration mode. And some people never turned that switch back on, and they quietly decided that celebration was extra, optional, unnecessary. But my friend, survival mode is not meant to be a personality trait, it's a stop along the way, not a way of life. So let's talk about what happens when celebration goes missing. Let's talk about the symptoms. Because when you skip celebration long enough, your life starts to feel like a Netflix series with no season finale, just episodes endlessly with no payoff. Anyone who also watches Love is Blind will know the feeling. Because when celebration goes missing, your motivation drops. Because your brain isn't getting those little, we did it, hits of dopamine. And then you're gonna find that your confidence drops because you were never pausing to acknowledge, ooh, I actually did that. And we know that confidence comes after the evidence of the thing that we did. And then your joy tolerance drops. Yeah, that's real. Some of y'all get itchy when life feels too good. It's like walking around life with low iron levels, but for your spirit, like spiritual anemia. Like, did I just invent a thing? Anyway, here's the T Celebration isn't the reward after the journey, it's the fuel for the journey. And if you're waiting around to only celebrate the big stuff, then you are starving yourself emotionally 95% of the time. Now, I want to have a little chat with the birthday avoiders. You know exactly who you are. And I once asked somebody what they were doing for their birthday, and they said, Oh, oh, I don't celebrate. There's just a year went by, nothing to celebrate. Nothing. Nothing. You survived every plot twist of the last year. You grew, you healed, you fell down, you got back up, you kept going, you woke up, you got out of bed in the morning. Like, what more do you want from yourself? A Grammy? And don't even get me started on the New Year's Eve avoiders. These peeps act like the clock striking midnight is out to personally attack them. But here's the truth. People avoid birthdays and New Year's Eve because it's a moment of reflection. And seeing your own growth or your unmet desires, well, that's vulnerable. And it's easier to say, well, it's just another day, than to say, I don't know how to feel celebrated. Yeah. Let that one hit. Because when we say, it's fine, it's just a day, that's just a reflex. That's a limiting belief. Because when we look at the don't look at me reflex, birthday avoiders often hate the intensity of the attention. Even if it's loving attention. To them, it feels like standing under a spotlight in a bathing suit after eating nachos, exposed, vulnerable, too much. They downplay their birthday because they don't know how to receive the care, the love, the attention without feeling like they owe something back. Or maybe it's an emotional hangover from your childhood. Because for some people, birthdays weren't magical growing up. Maybe they were disappointing or chaotic or forgotten or overshadowed. So now as adults, they pre-reject the celebration in order to avoid being hurt again. It's just easier. And then you say, nah, I don't want anything than to risk feeling insignificant or let down. And that's fair. Or maybe you get hit with that, I haven't done enough yet, and the shame spiral that happens. Because that's just another flavor. If the birthday feels like an annual performance review, instead of celebrating the life that you're living, maybe you beat yourself up for not being further ahead. So avoiding the day becomes a way of dodging any kind of perceived failure. It's like saying, Don't celebrate me yet. I'll be maybe I'll be worthy next year, which is just fucking heartbreaking. Because the birthday doesn't ask if you're perfect. It just asks that you're present. And you know, some people treat birthdays like a countdown clock. Like every candle feels like a reminder that they should have their life together by now. Yeah. According to whom? Like avoiding the birthday is a way to avoid the pressure of aging expectations. Like marriage, kids, career, money, house, glow-up, emotional mastery, all of it. But you're not a milk carton bestie. You're not gonna expire. And to quote Ferris Bueller, none of us make it out of this alive. And then there's the other component, which might be your environment. Some people have low quality circles, and that can lead to social fatigue. And it's not the birthday that they're allergic to, it's the people who would show up. Like if your circle drains you, even a celebration feels like emotional labor. So birthday avoiders keep it small or even non-existent to avoid being stuck in a room with people who don't know how to truly celebrate them. And then for my New Year's Can We Skip the Countdown Club? Yeah, now I'm talking to you. Because I get it. You can feel the pressure of like forced fun. Like New Year's Eve is basically a holiday wrapped in expectations. People feel like they need to get the perfect outfit, the perfect plans, the perfect kiss, the perfect Instagram moment. It's performance joy. And for many people, that pressure sucks the fun right out of it. They'd rather skip the whole thing than deal with the emotional choreography. Or maybe it's the invisible scorecard that you don't want to face. Like New Year's Eve brings up the same kind of annual review vibe as birthdays, but with more glitter and a bigger existential crisis. It's like a moment where people compare where they are to where they were last year, to where they should be. So skipping New Year's Eve feels like skipping the judgment, skipping the comparison and the disappointment. Like if we don't celebrate, I don't have to feel behind. And to that I say, who are you behind exactly? But we'll save that to unpack for another day. And for sure, there's gonna be some social fatigue left over from the pandemic. Because COVID taught people how to stay home, how to keep it small, how to keep it quiet, how to keep it safe. And New Year's Eve went from big blowouts to sweatpants and Netflix, right? And honestly, that became the new comfort zone. So the idea of going out again feels overwhelming. And people got used to shrinking the moment. And when we have great moments, we want to have our great people. And the I don't have my people syndrome is probably more common than you think. Because celebration is relational. And New Year's Eve is when people feel the most aware of who they do or don't have. So if someone doesn't feel connected, supported, or surrounded by their people, New Year's Eve feels more like loneliness than a countdown. And avoiding it protects you from feeling the ache of, oh, I wish I had a better circle, or oh, I wish I had somebody to kiss at midnight. I know that feeling. But surrendering to it is shortchanging yourself of a little glitter, a little sparkle, and a little joy. And maybe you've had just a hell of a year, and you'd rather a do-over than go back and look at the receipts. Like some folks aren't avoiding the celebration, they're avoiding the reflection. Because New Year's Eve demands a look at the last year, and it can be a little tender if you're not proud of it. You'd rather skip the recap and jump straight into the next chapter without acknowledging the last one, because it's not our proudest moment. But that's like starting a new book with your finger still stuck in the previous one. You're gonna have a hard time moving forward. And at the core, both birthday and New Year's Eve avoiders are protecting themselves from something judgment, comparison, attention, expectations, disappointment, visibility, emotional vulnerability. And celebration needs you to show up. It needs you to be open and self-acknowledged. And for many people, that is scarier than staying small. But the truth celebration isn't scary, but being seen is and that's exactly why reclaiming celebration is so powerful. But let's take a second to talk about social fatigue. Because here's the deal: if celebrating with your circle feels exhausting, here's what that means. Because it's not celebration fatigue, it's people fatigue. Because listen, celebration, it should feel easy. There should be laughter, you should feel supported, it should have that hype squad energy. And if you leave an event feeling drained, it's because the people you're with are energy vampires and they got ring lights. All right. I've had celebration where one person's vibe sucked the life out of the room like a dice in vacuum. I've also had celebrations where the group literally made me feel levitated, and I didn't want the night to end. Because the circle matters, the vibe matters, the energy matters. So let's have a look at celebration in the big and the small ways. Because this is where we get practical. And celebration, it's not just grand gestures. Sometimes celebration is tiny, silly, cozy, and personal moments. Like some of my faves are just like the little I did it shoulder shimmy after sending that scary email. Or lighting that candle that you spent a fortune on that you thought you were gonna just save for that special occasion. Babe, you are the special occasion. Light that fancy candle. Maybe it's the victory lap around the living room after folding laundry. Yeah. Who says that you can't celebrate that? Or maybe it's making a cup of tea like it's a five-star room service, like really just being intentional and using the good china and doing it up a little bit. Or maybe it's just leaving a voice note to yourself, hyping yourself up and celebrating that thing that you just did. Because those little celebrations, they matter, and they're building your brain evidence that you are worthy of great things. And the big celebrations, well, those matter too. Maybe you hit a milestone or you finished a really hard chapter of your life or your project or your school. Maybe you survived something that you thought would break you, but here you are. But celebration is simply a pause. It's a breath, it's a witness to your own life. And here comes the magic part. Because once you understand this part, celebration, it stops feeling optional. Now listen, because this next part, it's the game changer. Okay, so you ready? Here we go. You get more of whatever you celebrate. How cool is that? Okay, you celebrate your wins and your brain goes, Oh, we like this. Let's do more. When you celebrate your effort, you show up more often. When you celebrate your courage, you go out and you take bigger chances, you get bigger rewards. When you celebrate your joy, you create more joy. Because celebration is a signal. Okay? It's a GPS pin. It's a love letter to the universe that says, yes, this, more please. I'm here for it. And your energy expands and your capacity expands and your self-trust expands. And honey, you can't buy that. Celebration is how you quietly train your brain to become someone who believes good things are not only possible, but a normal ingredient in a life that's aligned with what you want. Alright, gorgeous, let's land this plane. You do not have too much joy. You don't celebrate too often, and you are not overflowing with so much goodness that you have to turn some away. If anything, you're overdue. So this week, I want you to celebrate something. Big, small, I don't care, doesn't matter. Just don't let your life go unnoticed. Toast yourself, cheer for yourself, treat yourself, hype yourself. And if other people want to join you, cool. More the merrier. All are welcome. But the most important attendee to this party is you. Because when you celebrate your life, your life gives you more to celebrate. Alright, my friend, go celebrate something before your brain tries to talk you out of it. Your wins are there. They are waiting, your joy is waiting, and honestly, so is the version of you who finally lets herself feel good. And be sure to tune in next week because we're gonna address those of us who have been maybe feeling a bit off, a bit disconnected, maybe not quite yourself. Next week's episode is the breadcrumb trail back home. Oh, and one last thing before I go. Check the link in the show notes and get yourself signed up for the weekly Mojo magazine. That's right, Mojo, straight to your inbox, and it's gonna be the email that you're actually happy to open because it helps you feel better every time you do. And as a special treat, there's a brand new People Pleaser cheat sheet available for free for everyone who signs up, which includes things like scripts to help you hold your boundaries, like what to say in the moment, or how to get yourself out of the yes that you meant to say no to. I help you with that too. And then there's these 60-second resets for your nervous system and for you, free. Nope. So go check that out immediately because it is a mojo must-have. So until then, I will see you out there living life like it's worth clinging a glass to. I love you. I'm proud of you. Now get out there and go make something celebration worthy. Mojo out. Today's episode of Pocket Full of Mojo is brought to you by Mojo Gummies. Because modern life demands a lot from us. So they created Mojo to find clarity among the chaos. 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