I remember when I used to love the holiday season. The lights, the music, the hustle and bustle, not to mention the feeling of goodwill in the air. I always felt like people were kinder, gentler. As a child growing up with a mom who really wasn't my biggest fan, the holidays were a reprieve from her cruelty and indifference towards me. We always had a fresh, real tree that we all decorated, and we always had all the delicious sweets and treats around the house. My grandparents always came to visit, and I loved them so much, and they made everything better.
After being adopted my love of the holidays continued for a few years, but it was never the same. My adoptive parents don't have the same traditions, and I certainly didn't have the warm relationship with their parents that I did with my real grandparents.
At this point the holiday season is nothing but a month of pain and heartbreak. I have spent every Christmas alone for at least the past ten years. Even when I lived in the same city as my adoptive family, I chose to spend Christmas alone.
I try to keep up appearances and when people wish me happy holidays I try my best to smile and wish them the same. I don't want to be that grumpy bah humbug person. But it is who I've become. I try to act cool like it just doesn't matter, but it does.
I want to decorate, and bake delicious vegan sweets and have a huge holiday meal with all the vegan trimmings. But my cats just don't appreciate home cooking.
I hold on dearly to my memories of happier holiday times filled with family, love and warmth. And I hope that those memories help prevent me from becoming a total Grinch.
