I have to take the time to write about the holidays because the WordPress Discovery feed is saturated with Thanksgiving overload… and I am sure in no time the Christmas posts will take over. I guess, inevitably it is that time of the year again. Oh Joy.
I don’t know, man. Call me the Grinch, call me Scrooge, or whatever you will, but I don’t like the holidays. This time of year is seriously my least favorite. If not already obvious– I am a summer time, carefree, sun-kissed skin, floating in large bodies of water kinda gal. It was 96 degrees in my little corner of the universe on Thanksgiving this year. Most people were pissed. I, however was not.
Let’s start with Thanksgiving.We solely dedicate one day, only one day out of the entire 365 rotations around the sun to being grateful and giving thanks. We choose to take this time to have a generous feast with family members that for most of us only come together this one day out of the entire year. Basically, we have to fit a whole year of catching up into one day, not even a full day, probably only 5-10 hours out of the day. Maybe my bias is in that I am an introvert and this can be exhausting.
My issue isn’t with my own immediate family. I am fortunate enough that we get together on numerous and abundant occasions throughout the year, same goes for my in-laws. Even growing up we were never forced to spend this time with family members that weren’t within our usual routines. The predicament I find myself in is having to gather with my in-laws extended family on both holidays. Call it being a brat or a snob– I have nothing against them, they are pleasant people, but really it all just feels so fake. Y’all don’t care about us 363 other days in the year– we don’t even exchange happy birthdays, you didn’t even invite your grandma to your son’s first birthday party and I am pretty sure you have politically shamed us 59 times on Facebook. Like, why the need for this tomfoolery. Next year– I am either coming up with an excuse not to go or plan for something better.
The other thing that is slowly starting to creep up on me and send worries through my being is the fact that at some point my in-laws will be incapable of hosting or will expect us to take over the tradition. I want no part in this. I solemnly swear to never host a Thanksgiving, even when I have children of my own. I simply just don’t understand the holiday. By now, we all know that the “story of Thanksgiving” we were originally told is a big fat lie. The food that we only eat on this day (turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, etc.) has no god damn meaning behind it. I am grateful almost every day of my life, I don’t need a single day to remind me of that. Why are we still putting up with this Thanksgiving bullshit year after year?
Now, before this gets a little too ranty, rantish, (should definitely be real words) let me get to Christmas.
Okay, so more often then not I usually find myself trying to decipher through why I think the way I do about certain topics or things. For instance, did something happen in my childhood to make me think this way, did someone from my past create a certain resentment or nostalgia for me, am I just plain bitchy or crazy– you get the idea.
Christmas is one of these instances. When it comes down to it, I think that Christmas is terrible to me because every year that I can remember my dad would use the excuse to get rip-roaring drunk and my parents would get into a horrible fight. There may have been some good years sprinkled in there but they are masked by the bad ones. We were usually forced to wear some horrendous “Christmas outfit” for either Christmas Eve or Christmas morning mass at the Catholic church we attended on a regularly basis. We weren’t the type that only showed up on religious holidays– we were the regulars who had to put up with the annoying masses who only showed up on Easter and Jesus’ birthday. The mornings always started off well, we ALWAYS got everything on our Christmas list. We were fortunate in that way. The day would then prolonged with uncertainty of when the switch would flip with my dad. That lasted for 15 years.
The next 3 years were sad because you could feel the regret from my dad of the previous years he took for granted, now having to spend most of the day alone or with my uncle’s family. Three weeks after my 18th Christmas my dad died. None of us knew it would be his last and for that reason, along with the vivid memories of my dad’s sadness on that last Christmas, the next 3-4 years just weren’t the same. I couldn’t figure out why I had wished all those years he wasn’t there and now all of the sudden I would give anything to have him with us on Christmas day.
Ugh. Okay– that got really depressing really fast. I think though, that my analysis is pretty well thought through. My association between those times and Christmas make it an unpleasant time of year and day for me.
I will fast forward to the most recent years and explain why I am still indifferent to the whole Christmas extravaganza. First of all, my in-laws treat my husband, myself and my brother in-law like we are still 10 years old… They buy literally everything on our Christmas lists (no matter how expensive), we sit around all morning taking turns opening the abundance of gifts — You’re probably like… So?? What’s wrong with that? You’re so ungrateful! The point is.. That we are all adults. I don’t want to be spoiled like a child. I don’t need all this extravagant stuff. I don’t know how to top last years gift for people who already own everything on the market. I don’t know, I am just not use to being spoiled and I guess I don’t want to get use to it. That’s not a bad thing.
We then get rushed to their grandma’s house where we hang out with the same extended family that we literally saw hours before at the Christmas Eve get together the night before. These are those same people who we haven’t seen all year except on good ole faithful Thanksgiving. If we don’t arrive exactly on time– it gets turned into this whole ordeal. I don’t want to keep getting into that because the rest just circles back to my same resentments from Thanksgiving.
As for the non-psychological reasons I don’t like Christmas… Consumerism. Nothing else to say. I am not religious. A lot of people view this as Jesus’ birthday. I don’t care about all that, so why am I celebrating? The ridiculous effort and money people put into their Christmas decoration. They’re awful and just WTF. The fact that I was born 3 weeks after Christmas. Meaning the whole god damn holiday over shadows my birthday. Okay, I think that I am done.
Who would have thought that this would be my longest post to date? It has been a long time coming for me to get these feelings off of my chest, I guess. I just don’t like how fake it all feels. Let’s celebrate real things. Or let’s celebrate with only the people who hold real relationships with us throughout the entire year. I guess I need to start having children so we can create our own traditions. I hate the holiday season. But that doesn’t make me a bad person, I am just being honest.