Chinese New Year is often described as a holiday.
In reality, it feels closer to a marathon.
Not the kind with cheering crowds or medals at the finish line, but the quieter kind. One that stretches across days, sometimes weeks, marked by packed schedules, repeated conversations, and a surprising amount of emotional stamina.
You do not train for it.
You simply show up.
And somehow, that is exactly what makes it exhausting.
Once it begins, it does not really stop.
The schedule no one admits is exhausting
Before the first visit even happens, the planning starts.
Who do we visit first.
How long can we stay.
Who will be offended if we leave too early.
Who will be more offended if we stay too long.
Chinese New Year is not a single event. It is a chain of appearances. Lunch becomes dinner. Dinner turns into another round of visiting. Each stop requires the same energy, the same politeness, the same enthusiasm, reset again and again.
By the third or fourth visit, the body is present. The mind is already pacing itself.
The conversations that repeat, perfectly, every year
Every marathon has checkpoints. Chinese New Year has questions.
They are familiar, predictable, and rarely malicious. Yet they arrive with remarkable consistency.
How is work.
Still busy.
Any plans this year.
How about marriage.
How about kids.
How about health.
You answer them once, then again, then again. The words come out smoothly because you have rehearsed them over time. The tone is friendly. The smiles are polite. The responses are carefully neutral.
This is not interrogation. It is ritual.
And rituals, even gentle ones, require effort.
The quiet art of staying pleasant
What makes Chinese New Year tiring is not the visiting. It is the performance.
You are not acting in the dramatic sense. You are simply managing yourself.
You monitor your reactions.
You soften your tone.
You avoid sensitive topics.
You laugh at stories you have heard before.
This is emotional regulation, practiced quietly and repeatedly.
In daily life, we choose our conversations. During Chinese New Year, conversations choose us. The challenge is not to say the right thing. It is to say nothing wrong, over and over, across multiple rooms and multiple days.
That kind of restraint accumulates.
Why it feels heavier as we get older
As children, Chinese New Year felt simple. There were fewer expectations, fewer comparisons, fewer explanations required.
As adults, the questions land differently. Life paths diverge. Timelines become visible. Choices feel more permanent. What once felt like harmless small talk now brushes against real decisions.
The marathon does not get longer, but the weight carried along the way increases.
This is why Chinese New Year can feel more draining even when the celebrations are smaller.
And yet, we still show up
Despite everything, most people still go.
They still dress properly.
They still bring gifts.
They still sit at the table and listen.
Not because it is easy, but because it matters.
Chinese New Year remains one of the few moments left where presence outweighs productivity. Where being there counts more than saying the perfect thing. Where effort is measured quietly, not announced.
You may leave tired. You may need days to recover. But you went.
And in a year where many connections happen through screens and short messages, showing up physically, repeatedly, patiently, is no small thing.
The finish line is not celebration. It is relief.
Like most long races, you do not notice the distance until you are near the end.
There is no grand ending to this marathon. No fireworks at the final visit. Just a slow return to routine.
You unpack.
You rest.
You breathe differently again.
And maybe, only then, you realise what you completed.
Chinese New Year is not a break from life. It is a reminder of it. Of family dynamics, unspoken expectations, and the quiet work of maintaining bonds.
Not glamorous. Not effortless. But enduring.
And like any long marathon, finishing it says something important, even if no one claps at the end.
Editor’s Note
If this Chinese New Year feels more tiring than festive, you are not imagining it. You are simply running the same race as everyone else, one visit at a time, whether you realise it or not.
