The holiday season often brings about a wave of judgment—who knew? It seems that the spirit of Christmas has shifted from being a time of joy and reflection to a platform for enforcing personal beliefs about how to celebrate. Who gets to decide what is considered acceptable? Is Christmas meant to be primarily about faith, family, giving, food, companionship, or gifts, and how can we determine the right balance?
Christmas uniquely transcends various cultures, religions, and generations. While it is rooted in Christian tradition, many non-Christian families have adopted their own interpretations. Celebrations like Festivus, Chrismukkah, and even Black Friday have emerged, each carving out its own niche while still connected to the same spirit of festive cheer.
Who can resist the charm of a jolly man in a red suit?
In many ways, Christmas represents the kind of inclusive society we aspire to create. Yet, with the barrage of holiday advertisements, nostalgic tunes, and countdowns to the big day, comes the inevitable debates: What truly embodies the spirit of Christmas? Should we prioritize Santa and gifts, or embrace the nativity, religious services, and the essence of Baby Jesus?
Countless times, I’ve witnessed one faction criticize the other for supposedly tarnishing Christmas with their materialism, fervent religiosity, or indulgent traditions—be it excessive drinking, overeating, or extravagant decorations. The only consensus seems to be that everyone eagerly anticipates this cherished celebration, likely because of fond childhood memories associated with it. Ultimately, we all share a common desire: to rekindle that magical feeling we experienced as children during this special time spent with loved ones in the midst of winter’s darkness.
Can one truly get that wrong?
My upbringing lacked established traditions—cultural, religious, familial, or otherwise. We were a dysfunctional unit that celebrated Christmas in whichever way suited us. My father, surprisingly, relished gift-giving, which was peculiar since Christmas shopping was his only shopping endeavor during his two-decade marriage. For eleven months of the year, he was withdrawn, argumentative, and self-centered. Yet, during the month leading up to Christmas, he transformed.
I think the only time I ever saw my parents leave the house together was in the weeks before Christmas. They would return home, speaking in hushed tones and sneaking bags of gifts down the hallway, away from our curious eyes. In most families, this would be unremarkable, but in ours, it was a rarity.
Years later, after earning a degree in psychology and becoming a parent myself, I’ve gained insight into my family’s dysfunction. What seemed like my father’s heart swelling with holiday spirit was merely a reflection of his limitations. He expressed love solely through material gifts. While he overlooked my struggles during the year—whether with school projects, friendships, or emotional upheavals—he believed that one perfect present could somehow compensate for his absence.
Would I have preferred a more engaged and nurturing parent? Absolutely. However, that’s a retrospective judgment shaped by the complexities of adulthood. At that time, all I knew was that for a couple of weeks each year, my family resembled the joyful families I saw on TV and in films.
On Christmas morning, my home transformed: my little brother would be asleep beside my bed, my parents would be in the same room instead of separated, and the previously bare tree was now adorned with shimmering decorations and surrounded by a mountain of gifts. We would enjoy breakfast together, followed by a day of unwrapping presents and watching the same holiday movies on repeat.
While I realize now that all the sparkle and glitter was no substitute for a stable childhood, I still feel that thrill when I see the Christmas tree go up and the lights twinkle, as if they are answering an unspoken longing in my heart. I adamantly hold on to the few traditions I recall from those times. Letting them go would feel like bidding farewell to a cherished companion during tough times.
For me, Christmas is about sharing the limited happy memories I have with my children and desperately trying to maintain the warmth and security I crave year-round. Ultimately, isn’t that what everyone seeks at Christmas?
During the holidays, I often find myself shopping excessively, buying an abundance of gifts, stringing up far too many lights, and watching “A Christmas Story” far more than is reasonable. However, this isn’t due to being swept away by a materialistic consumer culture—quite the opposite. I strive every day as a parent to ensure my children don’t grow up in the same environment I did. Christmas is the one time I want to share my family traditions, however flawed they may have been.
So, the next time you hear someone criticizing another family’s holiday choices, remember that we all desire the same things from the season: love, acceptance, security, and a few treats. The spirit of Christmas doesn’t need to look identical in every home; what truly counts is the joy reflected on children’s faces come Christmas morning.
After all, isn’t that the essence of Christmas?
This article was originally published on Dec. 7, 2015. For more insights on family dynamics and fertility, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination.