The holidays are all about getting together with family. And while every gathering looks and feels different, the aspirational image of a “classic” family gathering, hovers intangibly over the proceedings.
In commercials, we see big tables with multiple generations of well-dressed people laughing and sharing heartfelt moments. In movies, we see madcap gatherings with mismatched personalities coming together to create superficially tense, but ultimately heart-warmingly fun events.
Even when dysfunction is hinted at, the family unit is usually still cohesive enough to provide an appropriately festive source of holiday entertainment. And yet, “in real life” — these holiday gatherings are much less coiffed and a tad more mundane than what we see on TV.
Even though I know better than to look to pop culture for validation on what my life should be like, lately I’ve been feeling especially adrift in the holiday landscape. One thing that makes me feel like a holiday outsider is that I have a small family — and it’s rare that we can all be in the same part of the world over the holidays. Our gatherings are usually quiet, intimate affairs. Nowhere near the rollicking full houses of classic movies.
For the past few Christmases, I’ve stayed in New York and spent the day with my boyfriend and his mother. We have a lovely time. We cook, exchange gifts, watch old movies and indulge in all manner of treats. The day reliably ends with a warm fuzzy feeling. But sometimes it’s followed by a twinge of melancholy because I’m not sure if I’m doing Christmas “right.”
Is it lame that I don’t have any juicy stories to report? Shouldn’t I be having awkward political arguments with some stodgy but well-meaning uncle? Maybe a laughable mishap involving high-speed toddler traffic in the kitchen? Why would I crave drama when cozy, amiable gatherings are where I’m most comfortable?
I’ve never related to pop culture portrayals of holidays. I grew up in the suburbs of Portland, Oregon in a divorced, half Hanukkah, half Christmas-celebrating family.
Every holiday was different depending on which side of the family I was with. Some Christmases were spent with just my mom and my brother in a humble apartment with a handful of gifts. Other Christmases were spent with my stepmom’s sprawling Catholic family and their towering tree drenched in tinsel. And then there was Hanukkah, which was quietly celebrated at my grandma’s house on school nights to little fanfare (if there were other Jews in my town, I didn’t know of them).
The holidays amplify the ways in which we either do or don’t fit into the classic family archetype.
As a kid, the holidays reminded me that I didn’t quite fit in, but I loved my family (or families), so I didn’t mind feeling different. Now as an adult, I feel more pressure to steer the course of my holidays towards that elusive ideal: the perfect family Christmas.
The holidays don’t just make me ask if I’m doing Christmas right, they make me ask if I’m doing life right.
Up to this point, I’ve pursued a quiet life that I enjoy very much. I value the stable, slowly-deepening intimacy of my chosen family, even if this doesn’t make for compelling post-holiday status updates. Yet I question whether this will be fulfilling in the long term. Is it possible to have a happy family life that thrives outside of traditional expectations?
I know that there’s no “one kind of family”, and that there’s no “right” way to celebrate the holidays. I also know that the holidays don’t need need to be a magnifying glass on every anxiety or point of doubt in my life. Holiday gatherings should be accepted at face value as opportunities to spend time with the people that you love. They can be as fun, low key, difficult or memorable as any other get-together throughout the year.
As I ponder my relationship to the holidays and family, I’m curious — do you have any thoughts on how to tune out expectations around the holidays and relax into the moment? Do you find yourself feeling like you’re not doing Christmas “right”? Share your insights below (I could really use the pointers)!
Happy Holidays!
xo,
Rebecca
