It’s okay if your Christmas does NOT make you feel like this.

Dearest:

I want to say:

I hope you are having a merry Christmas filled with love and kindness and laughter

but I also want to say:

It’s okay if you’re not. Truly, it’s okay.

It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be good. Whatever it needs to be, it is.

I think for a long time I hunted and yearned and grieved over Christmasses being imperfect. How in some way, how good one single day was would be the measurement of my life.

But it’s not. It’s truly not.

The measurement of my life is the ordinary days. The little moments adding up with each other to culminate in a life well loved.

I want to say it’s okay if things aren’t perfect. If you don’t have everyone together. If you don’t have a big, happy, functional extended family (or any kind of family at all). If everyone isn’t happy. If the kids are whiny or you are whiny or there are no kids and instead of noise there is silence.

It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.

You’re not broken, you are whole.

Christmas wasn’t meant to be anything but what it is:

Whatever appears for you. Whatever your day is composed of right now.

Whatever happens.

Sometimes it can be so hard to actually just genuinely relax and have fun and enjoy when there’s so much external pressure for Christmas to be HAPPY! FULL OF FAMILY! PERFECTLY COMPOSED! NO PROBLEMS EVER!

And the pressure builds up until we inevitably feel overwhelmed, crabby and heartsick at why our life doesn’t look like the way we think others’ lives are.

(Extra resources: I like what Sarah Wilson wrote about Christmasses: that without fail, she cries at each one just from the build up of energy. Ask Moxie is always wise about basically everything, but especially kids, and I think this post about not having high expectations is stellar.)

If nothing more, Christmas serves as a time for us to pause in the stillness before another year begins. To look back and see what just happened. The blessings and the shit and the hard stuff and the miracles, all tied together in a bundle of a year. Who you were a year ago. Who you are now. You might be feeling a little more war-torn but I can bet a hundred bucks you are wiser, deeper and lovelier than you could ever know.

That’s all my darlings.

Wherever you are:

in the midst of the BEST DAY EVER or the Shittiest Crapfest of the Century or something I like to call a Festival of Awkward, or something in between:

I want you to know you’re okay. You’re whole. Everything is going to be okay. It’s okay for things to be how they are today.

Your whole life is waiting for you. All the ordinary days to come.

And it’s going to be bloody beautiful.

So much love,