I was going to write some little blurb that was all happy and full of shit but you know me, I can’t do that.
The holiday doesn’t matter, it’s the people with whom you spend the day that matter. Years of retail and living states away from the majority of family have taught me that the day in which you get together doesn’t matter at all. We would get together in the summer to celebrate - even if it was just grilling and drinking. We’d celebrate Christmas in January. It does not matter.
This year, with a new job, I didn’t really want to take the week off and probably couldn’t this late in the game. By the sounds of it, I will have to petition for the week off very early as everyone and their brother doesn’t take enough vacation and waits until December. Rude, but okay. This week I will work my normal days, with the 24/25th off. That’s fine. I will see my family when I see them, and it’ll be okay. Next year, I’m hopeful everyone will come here in November so we can celebrate together.
This part is more me, telling myself, that everything is okay.
I’ve struggled, for years, with the idea that I’m an imposition to people. I was invited somewhere, with people who are like family, for Xmas Eve/Day. I was watching in real time, an out of body experience, as I tried to keep coming up with excuses as to why I shouldn’t go and that I didn’t want to impose. I was invited, more than once, and it is not an imposition. For years and years I’ve felt this way with anyone inviting me out to do things - it’s a pity invite or a second thought. I would assume the worst, instead of just accepting I was wanted. It has been a wild ride to unlearn this bullshit way of thinking, but I’m pushing through with only minor self-sabotage moments on occasion.
If you were invited, it is more than likely that you were wanted there. Period. Full stop. Enjoy the holiday season. Happy Solstice and Happy New Year!