I always longed for it; those giant holiday gatherings where everyone got along, ate and drank merrily, and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. I was surrounded by "those families" in my friend circle, and always had twangs of jealous energy about it. As the holidays approached, I would turn to materialism by focusing on my extravagant Christmas list, and also paid close attention to my parents and whether or not they have been fighting. I'll never forget those Christmas mornings where the first thing I would do was silently hold up both fists and lock eye contact with my dad - my way of asking if him and mom were arguing. I'll never forget feeling somewhat disappointed when the spoiled brat in me didn't get every single item on my list, and then feeling worse after my post-present call to my childhood best friend to share what we opened; she always got more. I'll never forget how bored I felt watching TV in the other room or desperately going online to see if someone - anyone - was on AOL instant messenger, while the adults gathered in the Big Room. When no one was online, I felt even more down, knowing they were probably participating in games and conversations with their family, while I simply waited for the next "moment" of the day to unfold, like dinner and dessert, which I'm sure I whined about endlessly.
As I got older, my parents got divorced and my grandparents passed away. Now, instead of having us all together (a time I wish I appreciated when it was here), holidays were now split in two. Having a child young with someone I didn't love certainly didn't give me the opportunity to pave the way for better holidays on my own, and marrying someone with divorced parents turned our two-holiday event into four. Instead of being able to engulf myself in what I did have and fully experience this time of year for all that it could be, I moped. I asked myself why we couldn't be more like x, y, or z. I got angry at what I didn't have. I loved gatherings with certain family members and dreaded it with others. I found myself constantly wishing things were different; that this person could control their drinking and word vomit, or that that person would engage in conversation other than themselves for 5 minutes. Our families grew, which only added new personalities and dynamics to an already chaotic cluster fuck. I tried to hard to act all uppity, but it's hard when you're constantly trying to fit into a mold of a family that is not yours. I didn't have that family. I didn't share those relationships, that closeness, and most important - no amount of effort on my end would change any of this. And I had wasted years trying.
I had no choice but to accept it for what it was: annoying, abnormal, dramatic, draining, and disappointing. I had to say these negative, hurtful things aloud in order to mourn the loss of the family I'll never have. I had to clear out these heavy feelings that took up so much precious space and energy in order to make room for the positives. I simply had no choice but to accept. I had to accept people for who they were, self absorbed, opinionated, dramatic and all. I had to accept our family's different dynamics, and appreciate it for what it is. I had to learn to say no to traveling 4 different times per holiday, and not to worry about other people's opinions on the matter. The more I accepted, the less negative I felt. I didn't have to like certain situations or even certain traits in people, but I could accept it. In fact, that turned into my little holiday mantra: "I don't have to like it, but I can accept it".
The more room I left for positivity, the more I was flooded with it. For every negative thought or emotion I was able to clear out, it was replaced with something good. I even found that I was able to look back and have a different perspective on my childhood holidays. Instead of picturing myself bored in the computer room, I was able to remember the magic of Christmas morning; the stockings that were filled to the brim, the abundance of gifts under the tree, the holiday music, Christmas lights and burning wood stove that my dad left on all night, anticipating my early waking; anxiously staring out the window for the site of my grandparent's car pulling up, begging for the 2nd round of gifts, and always being the first done dinner with hopes that it meant earlier dessert. All of these wonderful memories were clouded with negativity of yearning for something different, when I had something so joyous the whole time.
Comparison can be evil. If I had not cared what other families were doing, or zoning in on how complicated mine was, I would have been able to be more present and experience so much more. It takes a lot of work. Even this holiday season, years into my practice of self-love, acceptance of others, and being present, I still found myself feeling overwhelmed by how different I wanted things to be. I wanted my family to be here on Christmas. It angered me that few people within our families get along. I was upset that my husband has to work both Christmas Eve and Day. I craved time with my daughters and yet booked us solid for the next few weeks with gatherings and celebrations. I filled myself with annoyance, anger, disappointment, and sadness. Then, I remembered how much I missed out on before because of these exact negative emotions, and I made a shift. The holidays (as is the same with everyday) are what you make it. If I view them as negative annoyances, then they shall be. But, if I accept the fact that people are going to be who they are, like it or not, and know that I'm only wasting my energy trying to change them or wish them differently, then how I view my holidays is up to me. I can still make a choice to be fully present with my husband in the time he is here, and relish in those teeny, beautiful faces of our daughters on Christmas morning. I can prepare myself for those tough personalities I will encounter, and laugh with myself when situations arise thinking "ha, there's so-and-so just being so-and-so".
Going through this mental change truly did make me feel like I mourned a loss; I had to let go of who I wanted people to be, how I expected things to unfold, and just let life be. This quote from Adventures For Your Soul helped ground me in this experience: "We can look at events in our life and see them as problems that hinder us and keep us from what we want, or we can choose to see them as opportunities for growth. We can surround our problems with love". I didn't have to have these "problems" because in reality, by wishing so hard for change, I created the problem myself. There never needed to be one. Everyone is who they are, and the only person I have control over is me. I don't have to react, I can respond. I don't have to wish, I can accept. I can view every annoyance as opportunity, and I can clear out the negative to leave more room for the positive. In the end, how my holidays go is just up to me, and in realizing that, I have a new overwhelming gratitude for what I do have.
