Listen to the blog:
We had a totally fine Christmas. There is literally nothing to complain about. Nothing went wrong. No fights. We saw all the people. Ate all the food. My son got the most important stuff on his list. My husband and I didn’t even get into an argument while putting some furniture together, believe it or not. (A Christmas miracle!) It was all totally fine.
So why did I have this slightly empty feeling about it?
Maybe I’m wrong but I think most people have some version of “it’s not totally right” at Christmas. The culprits vary from household to household.
For me, “it’s never exactly right” has a lot to do with raising an only child. Of course, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being an only or only having one child. But to be honest, there are some things about it that can be a little lack-luster. For instance, Christmas morning goes really quickly. And on a deeper level, we spend 364 days a year drilling into him, “It’s not all about you, you’ve gotta consider other people,” because he, very understandably, has less opportunity to exercise this social muscle than kids with siblings.
But on Christmas morning, it does actually feel like it’s 100% all about him, and there’s kind of no other way to really do that. However, as it goes against the grain of what we try daily to instill in him, for me there’s this underlying sense of a mismatch of priorities:
- Wanting Christmas to be awesome for him.
- Feeling some illogical yet still totally present level of mom guilt for being unable to provide him with siblings.
- Thinking of all the Christmas moments with my family growing up, which were all anticipated with and witnessed by my sibling.
- Feeling some sadness that our son won’t ever have that.
It’s all fine, but it’s never exactly right.
Quiet Discomfort
Every household has their own version of this. I have a friend with adopted daughters and they have their own quietly lingering unsettled feelings surrounding the holidays. I have a family member who is a young widow, raising kids alone. Friends whose kids chose not to come home this year. Single friends who thought they’d ring in the new year with a significant other, only to experience another breakup.
But these are all fantastic humans who are making the most of their time. It just all comes with this low-key sense of doubt or unsettled feeling. Often, it’s a quiet unspoken, hard-to-put-your-finger-on sense of grief. Am I doing this wrong? Am I missing something?
Total Upheaval
Maybe you consider yourself in a different category than “quiet discomfort” at the holidays. I know a few families who are uncertain if this will be their last Christmas married. And some who have an immediate family member that they’re expecting to pass by this time next year. When it’s “the most wonderful time of the year,” but your life is in upheaval, it’s the emotional equivalent of being the one in a million person that thinks Disney World is their worst nightmare. (Hot. Expensive. People. Ew.)
You feel the pressure of needing to be super happy, but inside you’re just not, and you feel like such a weirdo for that. It makes everything worse, seeing everyone else have the time of their lives. You’re stuck feeling totally alone.
Perspective Challenge
I don’t have a way to really tie this up with a bow (holiday pun intended) and make it nice. Sometimes it’s enough to know you’re not alone with your sense of “not quite right.” (Although while it may be true that misery loves company, knowing that other people feel bad when you’re feeling bad doesn’t really help at the moment. Nevertheless, you are not alone.)
One question I return to often when I need some grounding perspective is, “would my grandma recognize this?”
Would my grandma recognize this holiday moment? This parenting goal? This marital dynamic? The vibe of this house?
More than I’d like, the answer is “no.” And it’s often because I am putting importance or pressure on the wrong thing. If I’m setting huge expectations of family perfection or experiential perfection vs. just letting things be and unfold as they are, I’m setting myself up (and everyone around me) for discontentment.
For me, there has always been a tension between the spiritual meaning of Christmas and the cultural Christmas experience. Inherent in that tension is some of the cause for the “not quite right” feeling. So in that way, the discomfort can be viewed as a good thing, because it means I’m not losing sight of the “both/and” of Christmas.
Keeping these differing perspectives in mind (through remembering my grandma and Jesus) helps me manage the discomfort.
Closing Thoughts
The holidays are just a few days a year, yet they take up a disproportionate amount of emotional energy. In just a few short hours, the holiday season will be behind us and we can release all the quiet pressures and expectations that weren’t met. If you feel like something was missing or off this Christmas, it probably was. Life isn’t an all or nothing game.
We have the capacity to enjoy some things while wishing other things were different. The trick is to know that even if those things were different, we probably would have new things that wouldn’t be quite right. Nevertheless, we persist.
