The Haunted Holidays: Anne Boleyn
How historical trauma and Christmas folklore illuminate our own struggles with loss and healing
The air is a mix of antiquity and fresh-cut trees. The lush evergreen tree booms with brightly colored lights reflecting off the shiny glass ornaments. Moonlight bathes the blood-soaked tower, its pale glow reflecting off the structured bodice that cinches her waist and accentuates her breasts, which spill over the hem. The farthingale skirt, heavy with its exaggerated width, sways. Luminous pearls dance in the moonlight while French hood fabric flutters. One arm, encased in the fitted velvet gold embroidered sleeve, cradles her grinning severed head.
As a thanatologist, counselor, and enthusiast of horror and folklore, I am drawn to how these realms intersect. The ghost is at the heart of this convergence—a figure that haunts folklore, anchors horror cinema, and embodies grief and mental health. This connection feels especially poignant during the holiday season when joy and grief often coexist.
Christmas, a season of joy, cheer, and togetherness, seems like an odd choice for exploring ghosts and grief. Yet it’s also a time when the unseen—the memories and emotions we try to suppress—surface with startling clarity.
One of the most intriguing Christmas ghosts is Anne Boleyn, whose spirit is said to haunt Hever Castle during the holidays. Her story intertwines with a personal memory: my parents singing The Kingston Trio's 'With Her Head Tucked Underneath Her Arm.' This childhood connection not only tied me to her history but also opened a window into how ghosts embody intergenerational grief and trauma.
Our ghost stories mirror our stories. Anna Boleyn was beheaded after living a traumatic life. Life in the 1500s for a woman was difficult and fraught with strict gender roles; women were valued for their ability to marry, secure alliances for families, and bear children—especially males—to continue the family legacy. Anne Boleyn’s story invites reflection on the weight of historical trauma—a burden often carried by women throughout history. Intergenerational trauma suggests that a family member’s trauma—like that of a parent or grandparent—can affect future generations by altering how genes are expressed. Epigenetics is the study of this process and shows that trauma-induced changes can last for generations. However, supportive environments and treatments offer hope for breaking this cycle. In understanding Anne Boleyn’s suffering, we also gain insight into the inherited trauma and grief of our mothers, grandmothers, and ourselves.
Trauma brings grief. Grief is our reaction to losing something significant. Grief is an inevitable aspect of life. We live knowing that dying is unavoidable, and thus, grief ensues. Grief with trauma is the grief over what was, what could be, what wasn’t, and what happened.
Anne Boleyn’s ghost carries the weight of her trauma, the grief of her generation, and the sorrows tied to her life and death. Her story stirs our stories, inviting us to peel back the layers, find the commonalities, and see where we still have healing to do. Perhaps your ghost isn’t Anne Boleyn but another figure whose story calls to you. Whether from history or memory, ghosts invite us to reflect, question, and connect. In exploring their lives and lore, we uncover layers of trauma, grief, and healing—theirs and ours. Perhaps, through these stories, we can learn to move forward with greater understanding and compassion.
What’s your favorite holiday ghost story?