It's that time of year again. Hearts seem to warm and homes glisten by night. Family and friends delight in each other's company. Little ones become intoxicated with glee as they listen for sleigh bells in the snow.
As a child, I dreaded the last month of the year. Tis the season of doom and gloom at my house. Christmas was depressing. We weren't singing joyously or making our home cheery. I wasn’t allowed to take part in any holiday fun. I remember my heart filling with envy, regret, and lots of tears.
My family was not festive. Celebrations became hallucinations in my head. Halloween was a day of evil and darkness. Blasphemous humans celebrated Thanksgiving. Christmas was the demise of Christianity and Santa was just an insulting myth. I wasn’t allowed to put cookies out for an overweight man dressed in a silly red costume. I never woke up to a house that smelled of fresh evergreens. There were no presents waiting for me under a pretty tree. No Jingle Bells, no Rudolph, and no candy canes.
Extreme? I’d say yes. I’m not looking to blame a religion or criticize my family. This is just the way it was. Regardless of one's beliefs, people are doing what they think is best given what they know.
Once I had more of a say in my own life, I observed the holidays. I dressed like a Dalmatian for Halloween. I burned mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving. I spent lots of money I didn't have on Christmas gifts for people I didn't care about. Yet, something was astray from these traditions. The Yuletide never clicked for me. How did the elf move from shelf to shelf? How much water did the Christmas tree need? What the heck are the words to “Holy Night”? It all felt a little odd.
My expectations were high. The holidays turned out to be a lot of work with little reward in return. It was easier to feel left out than a part of.
It's not easy accepting that I missed out on a deep-rooted childhood joy. Believing in Santa, The Easter Bunny, and The Tooth Fairy was supposed to play a part in shaping who I am. The pleasure of fantasy and imagination was nonexistent for me.
As my life began to change and I entered into recovery from my old way of being, I had a challenging opportunity. The freedom of choice was now available to me. I could let go of the pressures and burdens of my past. I had the option of recreating the holidays and doing things differently than I had before.
My journey through each passing holiday season has not been easy. That stinking-thinking still gets the best of me. The hurt little girl inside wants to run kicking and screaming to her room. The Ghost of Christmas Past can play ugly tricks on my mind.
Now, I'm a Mom and a conscious parent. It's a bittersweet time for me. I'm eager to share in the excitement and joy the holidays bring. I get to experience the fascination through my child's eyes. As he lights up in awe of a wondrous tree and wrapped presents, so will I.
We'll laugh, play, and celebrate life, love, and family. We will dream of joys shared together and make delightful memories that help our hearts feel at home.
So now the holidays will be a lovely reminder to keep hugging, snuggling, and finding joy in the mundane. Sip the hot chocolate slow and of course, eat an extra slice of pumpkin pie.