A struggle to feel festive
It’s the 12th day of Christmas, so I suppose it is appropriate for me to write a festive blog post. I know a lot of bloggers have been doing ‘Blogmas’ or ‘Vlogmas’, posting every day with something Christmassy. I’d rather give you guys something I’m happy with, rather than just writing for the sake of writing! Plus there is the fact that, actually, I have been struggling to get into the spirit.
When you’re a kid, Christmas is fantastic. There is nothing else to worry about except if Santa has received your list or not. It’s always a pleasure for me to see my little siblings revelling in the Christmas magic that we work so hard to create for them. Even if they drag me out of bed at four o’clock in the morning, they still manage to make me smile with their enthusiasm.
Since being a university student, I have had to come to terms with the adult side of Christmas. Whilst before I knew Santa didn’t exist, I was fed and sheltered for free, and I had a job which allowed me to give everyone lovely presents. Now I am living on my own, I understand how hard it is to budget for Christmas. To make sure everyone has something. I am appreciating more how parents do have to work hard to make sure their kids’ lavish Christmas present dreams come true. It’s a fun time of year, but boy is it expensive.
Despite walking through a fairy-light-lit Nottingham every day of the week, it still didn’t feel like Christmas. Plastic log houses and tack being flogged at the market didn’t help either. It is just, unfortunately, another overly-commercialised holiday. But then again, we do just live in a world where everything is just a selling point and people do forget the actual point of things. Which isn’t the statement of the year. However, living away from home and not having the family atmosphere to remind me of the real Christmas means that I have become numb to the shops telling me it is that time of year.
The past couple of days have been a slight turning point. When I went to my boyfriend’s, his family welcomed us with mince pies fresh from the oven. I went to main London on Friday (more about that soon), and when we walked up the Underground steps to Oxford Street, snow immediately started to fall. It couldn’t get any more cliche, but I loved it. On Saturday my best friend came to Nottingham, and we drank mulled cranberry margaritas and made gingerbread guestimating. When I got home Sunday, I was greeted by a beautifully decorated, snowy Lichfield (it’s in a dip so we always get good snow). Naturally, I just had to make a snowman.
I’m getting there. The more ways I feel Christmassy through actual events, rather than having the plastic concept of Christmas shoved on me, the better I will feel about the season. Once my schedule slows down as everyone winds down for the actual day, I’m hoping I’ll be able to soak in the spirit even more.
“Christmas isn’t a season. It’s a feeling.” Edna Ferber