Grinch No More

For decades I really haven’t enjoyed the holiday season.  I’ve been referred to as the Grinch of the family.

Thanksgiving is food centered, and usually involves spending time with family or friends that we’ve adopted into our family.  I LOVE to cook for a crowd, so of course I have fun with that.  I do not like that the Christmas season usually starts well before Thanksgiving.  I mean, can we survive one holiday at a time?

Last year was the worst Christmas I’d EVER had.

Because we had just moved across the country we’d agreed to give each kid a budget to stay in.  They could spend this budget on anything they wanted or liked.  It was the first time we hadn’t purchased their gifts for them.  It seemed weird.

As Christmas approached, and Broken Girl came home from college, the house got a really tense feel.  I was on edge because every move I made was under a microscope.  If I turned left instead of right I was being asked what I was doing.  If I bought wrapping paper, but forgot the tape I was belittled.  I couldn’t leave the house without expecting a full on inquiry to happen on my return.  Where was I?  Why was I gone so long?  What stores did I visit?  How many people did I speak to?  What conversations did I have?

As the holiday approached I noticed that I was the butt of all my husband’s jokes.  I also realized that they weren’t funny haha jokes.  He was being mean to me in front of the kids.  I mean, really mean.  I asked him to stop it.  That he was hurting my feelings.  Once again I was told “no I’m not.  Stop being oversensitive and dramatic”.  The more I tried to explain that I wasn’t being dramatic the worse it got.  I gave up and started ignoring his “jokes”.

I asked my husband to help me wrap the few gifts we had.  He refused to help with it.  He then announced Christmas Eve that we were giving everybody their gifts.  Christmas would be easy since everybody knows what they bought themselves.  The kids were on board with it, so I played along.  I was disappointed.  It didn’t feel like Christmas.

Christmas day I woke up to a gun shot off the back porch.  He and Broken Girl had decided to get up early and go hunting.  That was fine.  Then they disappeared ALL day long.  I was here with the other three kids, who had decided to keep up with the mean jokes from the last week.  How I couldn’t walk young, how I couldn’t open jars, how I don’t like Christmas, how I never get them what they want, how dad always says that I can’t remember anything- would lose my head if it wasn’t attached, and finally one last dig that sent me over the edge…. I was just so dramatic and had a stupid sense of humor.  I finally asked them how I was supposed to like Christmas being treated like this?  How was it OK for them to all have an identity, but not me?  Why was I open to being mistreated?  Where did they get off being mean to me?

I ended up in tears, alone in my room, for the next 6 hours.  Blue Girl ended up in tears for a time.  She eventually came to apologize that evening.  The boys ended up in their room.  Everybody was ALONE.  Alone on Christmas yet under the same roof.  SO WRONG.

I came out of my room long enough to serve dinner.  Then it was back in my room I went.  Feeling alone, worthless, unappreciated, and miscellaneous to my family.  By this time he was back.  The signal that I was unimportant was loud and clear.  He actually told me that I shouldn’t have such a thin skin, and that if I was going to act like a baby they didn’t want me around- to stay in my room.  I sat in my room wondering why it was OK to be treated like an outcast, or a maid, on Christmas.  Why it was ok that we were all alienated from each other on a family oriented holiday.  I cried myself to sleep that night; alone.

This year I was dreading the approach of the holidays.  I didn’t know how the kids would feel, or how I’d react.  None of us are who we were this time last year.  Nothing in our life is the same.  Not to mention that with me not working and no support coming in from my soon to be ex, gifts were either going to be tiny, or non-existent.  The kids all said they understood the money issue and that gifts aren’t necessary.  The general consensus was that they are grateful for what they have and the changes we’ve been able to make.  They banned together to take pressure off me.  While I appreciate that very much, I know this holiday means something to them.  They used to love the holidays.  I went to work formulating a plan, a very small and careful budget, that maybe, just maybe I could make happen.

Shortly after our discussion, I was shocked to start noticing little changes in my feelings toward the holidays.  Movie Boy wanted to play holiday music on December 1st.  It didn’t grate my nerves or send me into a panic.  Then running out to grab small items when they were on sale didn’t kill my spirit.  Usually being in public in December is not recommended for me.  People are so rude! 

Not being able to afford a Christmas tree was actually disappointing to me.  When Blue Girl’s best friend brought us a pre-lit Christmas tree, unbreakable ornaments (important when you have a pig that flips everything), and a gingerbread house a wave of appreciation washed over me.  The kids would get Christmas.  Then a wave of what the hell washed over me….

I was the family Grinch.  Wasn’t I?  Why was I confused?

Over the years I was told I didn’t celebrate right.  I was told I didn’t do things well enough.  I was told that because I don’t necessarily like humanity during the holidays I was not a good enough holiday person.  I was convinced, by the person whom was supposed to love me, that because I wasn’t “right” I was the Grinch.  I was convinced that I didn’t like the holidays.  I was forced to carry all kinds of negativity that wasn’t mine.  I was treated like an outsider no matter what I did or didn’t do.  I ended up owning the title on the sheer recommendation of my husband, my abuser.

What I’m realizing this year, is that I actually do enjoy the holidays.  I’m enjoying the simplicity of being with the kids.  I’m enjoying the people around us, whom have been so generous with emotional support.  They have welcomed us into their families, kept in touch with us after our move, and made sure we’ve known we are good as well as we are loved.  I’m feeling a great sense of relief.  Relief of not having so many negative thoughts or situations to deal with; being forced on me.  I’m enjoying getting to be 100% me, and foster positive growth in the kids.

I still don’t love or live for holiday music.  I still don’t love the fact that humans turn rude.  I still don’t love the commercial madness that has been created by marketing companies.  I don’t love the cold.

But do you know what?  I am not now, and have never been, a Grinch.  I don’t have to own anything that isn’t mine anymore.  I refuse to own any more crap than I need to any longer.  I have enough real crap to deal with.