F*ck the holidays: if Christmas can be stolen from you
Probably this title will make many people go completely on the defensive. Don't touch Christmas. Aren't you listening to Sky Radio or The Christmas Station since early December? Scandalous. Aren't you eagerly anticipating all the Christmas dinners that await you? Impossible. Well, sorry people, I'm just not that into Christmas. And I don't spontaneously start singing along when Michael Bublé comes on. Bad, I know, but those people exist too. All I Want For Christmas I will sing along with, but I also do that when it plays in the middle of summer during the Cooldown, where they hand out free Christmas hats. You won't hear me complain.
It’s the most wonderful time of th— No way. Absolutely not. I often find it such forced coziness. Because with a bit of luck, you don't have Christmas Eve, first and second Christmas Day filled with family obligations. But yeah, do you have luck then? Suppose you're free from those obligations on the first or second Christmas Day... And then? I also feel so sorry when you stay home and start working with Thuisbezorgd, because I'm not the type to plan ahead so that my fridge is already full. And you feel a bit pathetic (I do) when you're sitting alone at Christmas. And that while it's just a regular weekday like any other. But it feels different. Not pleasant.
On vacation then? I've been planning that for years, to seek the sun with my winter depression and myself. But that never happens. Because I find the threshold to go alone too high, everyone around me is happiest with a decorated Christmas tree around them, and my parents don't take it well when I dive into the holidays. So my strategy is to find a fellow Christmas hater and complain together. There's nothing as nice as complaining. Luckily my brother feels the same, although he doesn't necessarily hate Christmas, but he's solidary when it comes to complaining. Thanks for that.
The abundant food then? Yes, that's always an advantage. Unless you're like me and have no brakes and therefore can't stop. Not with eating and not with drinking wine. It's always been a tricky point for me, but around Christmas all brakes are off. Everything. Must. Go. As a result, after the holidays, I don't feel very good (or fit) in my skin and I almost burst out of my New Year's outfit. And — you can see it coming — I, as a New Year's resolution, sign up for dozens of fitness classes to limit the damage. And yes, the following year everything starts all over again.
My solution this year? Just accept that Christmas isn't for you. It saves a lot of rebellion, that acceptance. And try to make the best of it. So binge that Netflix series before that long dinner, plan vacations for the new year, and my salvation is at least to spend one of the Christmas days (preferably more) with friends. Even if they like Christmas and don't complain with me, that excess of wine can easily be handled by them. Thank God.
