Note: I almost didn’t publish this post. Earlier this week, I had drafted and scheduled this post to be published on a set date and time this morning. I woke up this morning with a deep dread and a resolve to cancel the post before it was sent out — it just felt too sad, too whiny, too pathetic, too negative. And I am extremely averse to inviting pity. But then in my morning reading, this brief video about loneliness caught my attention. While this post isn’t about loneliness per se, loneliness is certainly part of sadness for many people. The video reminded me that one of the things I wanted to do with this newsletter was to be honest about all the aspects, positive and negative, of human experience (my experience in particular, since that’s the only one I know). Being a lot, and all that. So, I’m going with it.
Most of the time, I don’t mind being divorced. I quite like living my life on my own terms in many respects. And as a parent, it’s not the worst to get to have some regular parenting breaks when my son is at his dad’s. As much as those breaks are necessary and re-energizing, they come with a shadow side, which is missing parts of your child’s life, and which is one of the worst parts for me about being a divorced parent. Not having Christmas with your kid is the ultimate bummer in this realm.
For more than 10 years now, my son’s father and I have alternated holidays. One parent has the kiddo for Thanksgiving and New Year’s, while the other parent gets Christmas. The next year, it switches. And back and forth. I could honestly care less about New Year’s. And while Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday (despite its complicated history and meaning), not being with my kid for Christmas is a real doozy. When I’m solo for Thanksgiving, I usually go on a trip, preferably somewhere international where it’s not a holiday and I can (mostly) forget that I’m not spending it with my son. But when I’m solo for Christmas, I usually stay put. Christmas is harder (though not impossible) to avoid with travel, and I’m usually too exhausted and worn down from the year-end holiday scramble to think about traveling somewhere.
This year, my son is with his dad for Christmas. I don’t mind being alone on Christmas Day. I actually like my own company quite a bit these days (one of the best parts about getting older). But not being with my kid on Christmas morning? Sad. It makes me deeply, impossibly sad. It looms on my calendar every other year. Even on Christmases that he is with me, the following year when he won’t be is always there, waiting for me like a mammogram. The fact that I have such rich memories of my own Christmases growing up probably makes it a bit more sad for me – the curse of a happy childhood.
I’ve been extraordinarily privileged and lucky throughout my life. So much so that the first few years that I didn’t have my son for Christmas, the sadness was shocking and overwhelming to me. These days, it’s mostly a dull ache. A sad day to get through. But one of the (many, many) things I’ve learned through getting and being divorced is that so many people live with deep sadness in their lives all the time. Yes, I know that is a privileged realization, and I was probably pretty Pollyannaish about life before I experienced my own deep sadness. Holidays tend to heighten our emotions. The daily happinesses of family life are enhanced and augmented with feasts, board games, gifts, time away from school and work, and traditions, while the simmering sadness that lurks in the background of some people’s daily lives can bubble to the surface on holidays. Whether it’s the loss of a family member, challenging family relationships or estrangements, illness, poverty, divorce, loneliness, conflict – the list goes on – the holidays can be a time of acute, sharpened sadness for so many people.
So after 10 years of holiday sadness (which isn’t too bad out of 47 years altogether), here are my unsolicited tips and lessons learned. Some apply to holiday sadness in general, others are a bit more specific to divorced parents:
Avoid social media. At all costs. Probably for a good week or so.
Make the most of the before and after. I cram all of our pre-holiday joy and traditions like decorating the tree and making sugar cookies into every other weekend between Thanksgiving and Christmas. And then my son and I have our “Christmas Day” a few days after Christmas when he’s with me. For our holidays, Santa is not allowed to go on vacation until he has visited all the households each child belongs to, even if it’s not on Christmas. We have a pretend Christmas Eve and then a pretend Christmas Day morning, just like we would on December 24 and 25. I won’t lie – it’s not the same. I don’t know why it should matter what the date is, but it’s not quite the same when it’s not the actual day of Christmas. But I make the most of it and pretend my ass off.
Consider invitations thoughtfully. Well-meaning friends and family may invite you to join their Christmas Eve or Day. This is nice of them. People are nice. People care about you. But consider the invitation carefully and weigh whether joining might actually push you over your sadness threshold. Regardless, sincerely thank these people in your life and genuinely let them know how much they mean to you — it will make you feel less sad.
Throw yourself a pity party. Per the above, I prefer to be alone on Christmas Day if I’m not with my son. I usually go for a long walk with my dog, and then come home to my couch and a slate of movies and naps. This used to also involve an expensive bottle of pinot noir, but since I quit drinking a couple years ago, I’m usually overindulging in chocolate and cookies instead. Let yourself be sad and feel sorry for yourself for the day. Our society has a hard time accepting “negative” feelings; we want everyone to be happy happy happy, all the time! But sadness is a normal emotion. It is not the same as depression. Sadness means you are human and you are alive. It’s okay, really.
Let yourself feel selfish. As parents, we do so much of the holiday shuffle for our kids so that they have magical moments and memories. But can we just admit that some of it is for ourselves too? I know that my son will have a wonderful Christmas with his dad, stepmom and sister, and I’m happy and grateful for that. And it’s also okay for me to secretly and selfishly wish he was with me because this is my Christmas too, even if I would never tell him that. It’s more than okay to want a joyful holiday for yourself. Don’t feel bad about feeling sad!
You’re not alone. Not everyone is out there Norman Rockwell-ing it up. Some people – lots of people – are sad on holidays. You’ll be okay, I promise.
Tomorrow isn’t a holiday. Tomorrow will be a new day, a normal day, and tomorrow always comes.
That’s it. My very original life lessons, straight from me to you. If you are lucky enough that the holidays are a time of happy family togetherness and unblemished joy, enjoy it with every last ounce of your being and take nothing, not one single thing, for granted. But if you are sad for the holidays, for whatever reason, know that I see you.
And seriously, avoid social media.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone! And a special holiday thank-you for reading this newsletter that I somehow managed to launch this year, for better or worse.
What’s got my attention this week
Scientists figured out what causes severe morning sickness. Imagine what else we could discover if we took women’s pain seriously.
After a tip from a friend, I dug into Happy Valley the last few weeks and have thoroughly enjoyed it. What’s not to like about a British crime show with a tough lady cop?
This article on NYC matchbooks reminded me of my grandparents’ extensive matchbook collection. Maybe it’s time to start my own in 2024.
WAL woman of the week
A woman out there in the world, being A Lot
Kate Cox. Brittany Watts. Untold numbers of other women. Elections have consequences for real people’s everyday lives. Something to keep in mind as we head into 2024.
Out of the mouths of babes
From Jodie Foster in Interview magazine: “A sense of humor is my touchstone, and I have a very dumb sense of humor.”
Also something to keep in mind for 2024.