Updated: Jan. 3, 2017
Originally Published: Dec. 7, 2015
Fa la la la la, la la la la,
Is this really the season to judge? Hold on a second. When did the holidays morph into a competition of who celebrates correctly? What does “acceptable” even mean? Should Christmas focus more on faith, family, charity, food, friendships, or gifts? And who determines the right balance among these elements?
Christmas possesses a remarkable ability to bridge cultures, religions, and generations. Although its name is derived from the Christian observation of winter, many non-Christian families attribute their own significance to the holiday. Variations like Festivus, Chrismukkah, and Black Friday have emerged, each drawing inspiration from the same joyful essence.
Who doesn’t adore a jolly figure in a red suit?
In many respects, Christmas symbolizes the inclusive society we aspire to create. But with it comes the emergence of the so-called Christmas police. Alongside the incessant jewelry advertisements, nostalgic renditions of “Let It Snow,” and countdowns to “the big day,” we also encounter the ongoing debates: What embodies the “true” meaning of Christmas? Is it about Santa Claus, gifts, and sweet treats, or should we take a more traditional route with nativity scenes and church services?
I can’t count how many times I’ve heard one faction critiquing another for undermining the spirit of Christmas through materialism, religious zeal, overindulgence, and various other holiday customs. The one point of consensus seems to be that everyone eagerly anticipates this beloved celebration, likely because they cherish the memories of their own childhood traditions. At the core, we all yearn for the same thing: to reclaim a slice of the magic we experienced as children during this special time with our loved ones in the cold, dark winter months.
Is it possible to truly get that wrong?
I grew up in a family devoid of many traditions—cultural, religious, familial, or otherwise. We were a dysfunctional unit, and we celebrated this cherished holiday in the way that made sense to us. My father had a peculiar love for gift-giving, which was ironic since I’m certain that Christmas shopping was the only retail activity he engaged in during the two decades he spent with my mother. For eleven months of the year, he was withdrawn, argumentative, self-centered, and childlike. However, as December approached, something shifted.
The only time I ever saw my parents leave the house together without us was during the weeks leading up to Christmas. They would return from their outings whispering conspiratorially and sneaking bags of presents through the hallway to their bedroom, away from curious eyes. In most families, this scene would hardly raise an eyebrow, but my parents rarely communicated, let alone plotted together—except during the holiday season.
Years later, after earning a psychology degree, gaining distance, and starting my own family, I’ve gained some insight into my dysfunctional upbringing. What I initially interpreted as a Christmas miracle—a heart growing three sizes like the Grinch—was merely another reflection of my father’s limitations. He only knew how to express love through material gifts. He overlooked my existence through every school project, heartbreak, and hormonal upheaval, yet he believed that one perfect gift on Christmas could compensate for all of it.
Would I have preferred a more engaged and loving parent? Absolutely. But that’s a rational conclusion drawn from a troubled childhood through the lens of adulthood. In those moments, I knew nothing else. All I understood was that for a short span each year, my family resembled those I saw on television and in movies.
I would awaken on Christmas morning to find my world transformed: My little brother would be sleeping on the floor beside me, my parents would be sharing the same room instead of one on the couch, and the tree that was once bare was now adorned with twinkling lights and surrounded by heaps of presents. We would share breakfast and then spend the entire day unwrapping gifts and watching our favorite Christmas movies on repeat.
I now realize that all that sparkle was a poor substitute for the stable environment every child deserves. Yet each year, when the Christmas tree goes up and the lights illuminate, I still feel that thrill. I steadfastly hold onto the few traditions I have from my childhood, as letting them go would feel like bidding farewell to a cherished friend during hard times.
For me, Christmas is about sharing my limited happy memories with my children and desperately trying to recreate that sense of warmth and security. I believe this is what everyone desires during the holidays.
I tend to overspend during the festive season, purchasing too many gifts, stringing up excessive lights, and watching “A Christmas Story” far more often than is reasonable. But it’s not because I’ve been brainwashed by consumer culture or lost sight of the true meaning of Christmas—quite the opposite. Most of my time as a parent is dedicated to ensuring my children don’t grow up in the same environment I did. Christmas represents the one time I want to pass down the family traditions I had, however flawed they might have been.
So the next time you overhear someone criticizing another family’s holiday choices, remember that we all seek the same outcomes: love, acceptance, security, and a few delightful treats. The spirit of Christmas doesn’t have to manifest in the same way for everyone, but it always reflects in the joy on children’s faces come Christmas morning. Isn’t that the true essence of the holiday?
For more insights on family and parenting, visit this link. If you’re interested in home insemination, check out this site as a reliable resource. For additional information about pregnancy, the CDC offers excellent guidance.
Summary:
In a chaotic family, Christmas stood out as a rare moment of joy amid dysfunction. The author reflects on their childhood experiences of the holiday, focusing on the superficial traditions that masked deeper issues within their family. They express the desire to create a warm, loving environment for their own children, emphasizing that the true spirit of Christmas lies in shared memories and joy, regardless of how different each family’s celebration may look.