I love the idea of Christmas. Of any holiday really that conjures up images of a close network of emotionally healthy family and friends gathering together, clinking glasses with children under foot, cooking, eating, opening gifts, blah, blah.
But here's the thing, that's not my world. That's not my reality. I mean, sure I have family who I love (although we've been torn apart by Trumpian politics and Q-ideology). I have wonderful friends too, who spend Christmas with their husbands, children and their own extended family. The truth is, that what I mostly felt during the holidays was pressure, stress, sadness, and whole lot of loneliness.
Why? Because the holidays for me just seemed to be a mirror held up to my face reminding me of all I didn't have. I don't have a husband (or partner). I don't have a big family. I don't have a massive tribe of geographically close friends. I don't have a lot of disposable income. I don't have a lot of time, and I don't have a lot of help.
As a single mother, I have always felt a tremendous amount of pressure to create holiday magic for my son, especially to make up for all the things we lacked. So I indulged him with every holiday ritual old and new that I could think of. Tons of decorations including a real tree perfectly decorated, special gifts and stocking stuffers wrapped in either "mom paper" or "Santa paper," elves on stupid shelves, fake Santa-written letters left on an empty plate with cookie crumbs, and dirty boot prints leading from the fireplace. I even got Christmas stocking for our two dogs and cat!
This is a blog for middle-aged women, like me, who want to live a life of increased authenticity, and greater well-being, with fewer façades, less role-playing and a lot more fun. I chose a photo with myself and my son because he is my heart.
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