Holidays: True Confessions
I am going to say something and I hope it doesn’t shock anyone too much…
Here goes: I hate the holidays.
No this is not because I am a heartless person who doesn’t like giving presents, no it is not that I don’t like Christmas trees, white lights on trees, or Christmas Carols, no it is not that I don’t like festivities or the touching yearly rituals.
I feel like I need to explain:
It is purely that holidays are always about family. As much as that is nice, for me, it is also complicated. Literally, since I have been 1 years old I have had two families, and therefore holidays have always been “unique” and… stressful.
Yeah, I know… Why should I complain? Twice the love, twice the presents, and twice the family traditions, right?
Well… there is also the constant traveling, the constant decision making, and the lack of a constant. Always the feeling that you are never with everyone you would really like to be with. (So far, the only two days of my life that I have had everyone that I love together in one room were my college graduation and my wedding.)
When I was a kid, my parents fought over who “got” me for holidays. Whoever I wasn’t with, I always felt was kind of hurt that I was with the other parent. I hated the obligatory Christmas Eve call, where I had to stop what I was doing, and find a quiet place to call the other parent, always kind of feeling like I was missing out on one thing or another. Never feeling like I was in exactly the right spot, or fully a part of either family.
As I got older, the decisions were all my own, which usually just made it more difficult. I struggled to make everyone happy (this is not only past tense). Once I got a car, part of every holiday was traveling around. It got really hard to afford to buy gifts for not four people but rather 10 people or more depending on who was going to be at various celebrations. I was constantly trying to accept traditions of both families, trying to find meaning in them all. I was always wishing that I had a real brother or sister to cross the family boundaries with me, because, it sure got lonely being the only one who had missed that great time, or didn’t get as nice of presents because I was only a “part-time” daughter.
As I have become an adult and gotten married, the old family pressure about holidays has only gotten worse. Now with three families in different geographical locales, our holidays now involve intense “talks” with each family about the “plan” for the holidays. My mother, who revels in Christmas as though it is her own personal holiday, becomes the Christmas Devil of the North. She alone determines where Christmas is, who gives who gifts (this year only families with babies receive gifts- and if you haven’t made it to that stage-oops, you’re out), and other various details. If you are not there, it is a personal insult to her- the other 364 days of the year don’t count
So, this year for Thanksgiving we decided that people could be mad at us if they wanted, but we stayed the whole day at one house. We relaxed, we had fun, and in the end, felt like it was a real holiday. At age 30, I think I may be done trying to make it all work for everyone else. I might be ready to try making the holidays work for me.
Here goes: I hate the holidays.
No this is not because I am a heartless person who doesn’t like giving presents, no it is not that I don’t like Christmas trees, white lights on trees, or Christmas Carols, no it is not that I don’t like festivities or the touching yearly rituals.
I feel like I need to explain:
It is purely that holidays are always about family. As much as that is nice, for me, it is also complicated. Literally, since I have been 1 years old I have had two families, and therefore holidays have always been “unique” and… stressful.
Yeah, I know… Why should I complain? Twice the love, twice the presents, and twice the family traditions, right?
Well… there is also the constant traveling, the constant decision making, and the lack of a constant. Always the feeling that you are never with everyone you would really like to be with. (So far, the only two days of my life that I have had everyone that I love together in one room were my college graduation and my wedding.)
When I was a kid, my parents fought over who “got” me for holidays. Whoever I wasn’t with, I always felt was kind of hurt that I was with the other parent. I hated the obligatory Christmas Eve call, where I had to stop what I was doing, and find a quiet place to call the other parent, always kind of feeling like I was missing out on one thing or another. Never feeling like I was in exactly the right spot, or fully a part of either family.
As I got older, the decisions were all my own, which usually just made it more difficult. I struggled to make everyone happy (this is not only past tense). Once I got a car, part of every holiday was traveling around. It got really hard to afford to buy gifts for not four people but rather 10 people or more depending on who was going to be at various celebrations. I was constantly trying to accept traditions of both families, trying to find meaning in them all. I was always wishing that I had a real brother or sister to cross the family boundaries with me, because, it sure got lonely being the only one who had missed that great time, or didn’t get as nice of presents because I was only a “part-time” daughter.
As I have become an adult and gotten married, the old family pressure about holidays has only gotten worse. Now with three families in different geographical locales, our holidays now involve intense “talks” with each family about the “plan” for the holidays. My mother, who revels in Christmas as though it is her own personal holiday, becomes the Christmas Devil of the North. She alone determines where Christmas is, who gives who gifts (this year only families with babies receive gifts- and if you haven’t made it to that stage-oops, you’re out), and other various details. If you are not there, it is a personal insult to her- the other 364 days of the year don’t count
So, this year for Thanksgiving we decided that people could be mad at us if they wanted, but we stayed the whole day at one house. We relaxed, we had fun, and in the end, felt like it was a real holiday. At age 30, I think I may be done trying to make it all work for everyone else. I might be ready to try making the holidays work for me.
posted by KLOU | 9:53 AM
1 Comments:
Klou-
God love you for putting that out there. I, too, dread the Holidays for not quite the same reasons but it revolves around family. I have been avoiding putting it in print, but I think you have proved the world will not end if I choose to do so.
Oh, and, Happy Holidays.
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