THE HOLIDAY MYTH

According to movies, TV, social media, & fairy tales, traditional family holiday get togethers transform magically into warm and loving events no matter how everyone behaves the rest of the year. Hard as I rack my brain, all I can remember is a lot of tension and stress, no magic!

The worst ever, occurred after my stepmother moved in. Her relatives from another state always came during a holiday and it fell on us to entertain them. I complained to Dad that I wished they'd pick another time to visit. Life was stressful enough under this woman and company only exacerbated the situation. He knew that was true, but SHE ran the show now!

I was in my 40's at the time and living out in the guesthouse which unfortunately didn't have a kitchen. Other than holidays, I cooked and ate all my meals separately from theirs. And I was constantly changing my mealtimes to accommodate them.

I offered to do this at those holiday dinners as well, but was told her relatives would be insulted if I did.

For those meals, the middle board was added into the table. Still, there was no room for me. I sat out in the Florida room at a card table, my back to them as I gazed out toward the river. It was a mile wide behind our house. In social circles this is called being banished to Siberia. However it didn't feel like Siberia to me. In my mind, this was my private island opposite the crowded, noisy, polluted city on the shore across from me.

However I wanted to nuke that city because its noise and pollution wafted over onto my island!

Before my stepmother moved in, holiday dinners were nothing more than just another big meal, and often a rather depressing one. One of my step-mom's big complaints about my father was that he expected a holiday dinner every night.

Finally, my prayers were answered and my stepmother moved out! She took her damn table along with other furniture she'd brought into our home. We had only ONE dining table in that house. Dad was uncomfortable at the folding card table so we had to find something else fast.

We went to a consignment store that sold merchandise we liked. Dad bought an old Florida style table that went perfectly with our tropical themed house. I don't remember our last Christmas there, but I recall that Thanksgiving well. Dad had just been released from the hospital the day before after undergoing a triple bypass after a heart attack.

I went to great lengths to make that dinner special for him and all he did was criticize and complain. Nothing I did was ever good enough. It seemed a waste of effort even to try. This only seemed to worsen after we moved into this house just months later. 

Shortly after his death, I went to a salon to have my hair dyed red. -- A color he hated! This was right before the holidays. I mentioned to the beautician that it was going to feel weird celebrating the holidays alone from now on.

"Aren't you ever going to get married?" she asked.

I told her I had no aspirations in that direction. She paused to stare at me in disbelief; her brain simply could not grasp such a concept. "There is absolutely no way I would ever be alone!" she stated emphatically.

 How pathetic to be that emotionally needy, I thought.

But then I'm asexual. (Yes we do exist!) I've been lectured often, by many, to at least give men a chance. Actually I've given them plenty of chances! I've had boyfriends! But I was never happy in those relationships. However I was thrilled when they were over and out of my life.

I've spent a number of holiday meals with friends, sometimes with their relatives included. And always I found myself wishing I was at home, alone. It was just too much people overload for me! It felt like trying to breathe under plastic. And it never felt like MY holiday, I was just part of theirs. Others have always been a poor judge of my needs.

My neighbors on the south side are ones I actually like. For several Christmases I was invited over with them and extended family. I know they thought they were being kind and doing me a favor, but they actually weren't. I've never been the type who gets lonely, except when surrounded by other people. Finally, I told them politely, "Please don't invite me again."

I was telling my friend Rose about this and added, "Thank you from the bottom of my heart for never inviting me to spend a holiday with you and your family. I truly appreciate it!"

"I know you too well," she replied. "And I know how much you enjoy your solitude."

I wanted to throw my arms heavenward and holler, "Hallelujah! Finally, someone understands!"

At long last, I can forget all that misery in the past and forge my own holiday traditions. Ones filled with the things that I enjoy. No more stress, only joy, plus the serene and sublime. My holidays actually feel magical, now. (Sigh!)