Almost eight years ago I left the toxic bindings of my abusive "family," had major surgery, and then a month later moved to upstate New York for college. I had three jobs by the end of my first week, ultimately having four at a time while being a full-time student.
One of those jobs was at the local equity theatre. I worked the holiday show every winter, as I didn't have anywhere else to go (nor could I afford to leave), and it was nice being able to work full-time without simultaneously balancing school.
That, however, meant every person I encountered while working would earnestly ask "you mean you aren't going home to your family for Christmas??"
I didn't know how to say I didn't have a family or a home. I didn't realize yet that I had PTSD and those two words really triggered me. I didn't know how to tell these well-meaning individuals that I didn't live in the same shiny snow globe of convention that they were used to, nor how it broke my heart that I didn't. And I didn't know how to avoid breaking their without lying about my circumstances.
It was especially hard the first couple of years, when I hadn't yet gotten used to the weight of the cloak of guilt on my shoulders. I've never ever regretted leaving, but I know it was a (justifiable) selfish choice, and I didn't know then how to wear my chosen circumstances as a badge of courage. I just knew I was different and that this season was a constant reminder of it.
All of my "peers" would disappear onto planes and return with tans and stories and presents. It was a reflection of what I didn't have, and yet I felt like sadness was my price for being free.
All of this reasonably lead me hate to the holidays so so much.
BUT HERE IS WHAT I'VE LEARNED: things change.
I am stubborn as hell, so I don't easily admit this, but.....the holidays don't suck now as much as they did then. For one, everyone now is working. I'm not the only person in my age group that I know who's having to sacrifice every minute that could be spent making art to instead secure a roof over my head. There are still a few more obstacles that I'm juggling, but my circumstances have been largely normalized. Pity traded for a piece of empathy.
And then there are those in my life. I've finally realized that it was mostly my own voice saying I was different, and can change the melody to a reminder of how lucky I am to have those who love me.
A few years ago friend tried so hard to give me Christmas. I had a family to spend it with and did all the Christmasy things. It's hard now, because I have a reference for what I'm missing and missing out on...but honestly that's mostly the traditional stuff. And look at me, look at my life, even just look at this post: I am anything but traditional. What I do still have, however, what he did give me, was the assurance that today I can feel loved. No matter what I do today, no matter how many people I do or do not see, no matter if I even want to have a good day, it is the holiday of Christmas and I know that I am loved.
I was by those working the holidays shows with me. I am by the friend's mom who helped me have a home when I was eighteen and has never stopped caring about me. And I am by my best friends that are my entire world.
I know every other day of the year how lucky I am to have those who've stood by me; I think it's time to admit that I can remember that on this day, too.
So have a good day, or don't. You're allowed to feel sad, you're allowed to feel grumpy and alone. But maybe in the midst of this chaos of a day, try remember those who love you for who you have chosen to be, and let's both learn to accept that as enough.
(My view/art made of a photo of the kit mixed with some colors from How the Grinch Stole Christmas)
