a perimenopausal, good-enough, grieving holiday
I’m just going to say it. I hate Christmas.
I have lost the joy in any of it. The tree, the fairy lights, the gifts, the food, the baking, the drinks, the family get-togethers. All of it feels like work and feels meaningless.
My unschooler friend says she gives the kids almost anything they ask for throughout the year so presents under the tree just doesn’t do it for them. She says they don’t long for the one-day-a-year that they get to be spoiled. She’s also the only parent I know who quit “making magic” at Christmas. She said her kids didn’t really notice when she stopped and when they did, they were happy to make the magic themselves. Her partner put up their artificial tree and bought a gingerbread kit to make with them. Simple meals, very little entertaining and low expectations. Just because most of us have a two week window to fill with our kids does not mean we need to fill it all with special-ness!
Most of the women in my life dread the holiday’s. The month leading up is hella stressful. Work, planning, buying, wrapping, baking, letter writing, clothes shopping, attending work parties, school concerts, markets, family photo’s and on and on. The wealthier you are, the more you take on. Everything must be “perfect” according to…the even wealthier. They say, “Remember. What you have is never enough. You must always want more and aspire to be more.”
Lies.
Many of us mothers snap at some point. Some of us snapped during the pandemic. Some of us before and after. I’m in a slow-motion snapping! Each year I break a little more. My magic-making list was pretty short this year. No family photo, baking or decorating the tree. Minimal home decor and NO TRAVEL! A lot of the holiday magic is actually created by my partner. Yes, men can be witches too! He has a lot of energy and finds daily routines like advent very easy. I admire him for it.
caring for your perimenopausal, introvert, adhd, chronically-in-pain self over the holiday’s
(yes, it’s after xmas. read heading again!)
Start planning months in advance
Scratch out as many things on the magic-making list as possible and delegate the rest (if you want some to happen)
Keep reminding yourself that you aren’t a failure for not doing most of the list
Create a sleeping routine that you can stick to throughout the busy season
Stick to the four food groups - coffee, water, toast and wine (just kidding)
Mood lighting and chill music obviously
Ear plugs, hot packs, heavy blankets, journal
Foot rubs, hot baths, plenty of sensuality with zero pressure to put out
Shop online - unless crowds and bright lights is your jam
Thrift the perfect outfit to express your creative, wild self
Decline most invites
Walk outside, in the snow and in the sun if possible!
Skip the loud present-opening sessions (I literally left the room and rested while the exchanges took place and no one even noticed!)
Become highly committed to your mental well-being E-V-E-R-Y D-A-Y. For me that means daily movement and daily alone time.
And this one bears repeating. Don’t beat yourself up if you weren’t able to meet even your lowest expectations. No one is judging you! No one will criticize you for not being the whole gd tribe by yourself!
grieving solstice
One of my hopes, (among many) was to have a winter solstice fire. I’ve done this for many years, but this year I was alone with my kids and just couldn’t muster the energy. I didn’t even light incense or practice any ritual really. Again, I ask, by who’s standard am I measuring? This idea that just because we know of an ancient, communal tradition of the past, does not mean we, in our isolated, domestic goddess selves are meant to or are able to re-create the animist tribe our ancestors were so attuned to. We’re amazing, but maybe give us a break!
It doesn’t matter how meaningful or aligned or whatever it is. It doesn’t matter, because, what actually matters is our health and wellbeing. And most of us are so exhausted not only by perimenopause, but by capitalism full stop. We must rest. We read and learn about ancient ways but we can only dip our toe into those ways because until the whole thing falls down, we are still swimming upstream.
I would count myself as a counter-cultural parent in many ways. I lean in heavily to the liberation movement for children. I also lean in to my own liberation. I must remind myself that striving to achieve some image of “rightness” or “goodness” is a fiction story. If I want a right relationship with myself, my children and the earth, I must walk slowly. I must listen to my feelings and be with them. I must feel the grief and the longing of what I did not have as a child and also what is missing right now in our lives. I must let those tears take up space.
This is real folks. The pain of letting go is hard af. Climate grief, parenting grief, re-parenting our inner child grief. All this healing takes time and gentleness and so much of the current flow of consumerist holiday’s pushes against that. Going against that flow can’t be done alone. We need others to swim with in this healing.
And so I’m gonna sit here with my perimenopausal, grumpy self, my cup of chai, light a candle and watch everyone prance around in their energetic, teen spirit and just let go. I’m going to have big feelings. I’m going to cry again. But then I’m going to smile, as I step outside into the sunlight and feel the warmth on my face. I’m going to smile when I pet my little fur ball cat and chat with my online friends. I’m going to pull from my queer tarot deck and tap into the mystery of the beyond.
Things won’t be right or good and that’s okay. It’s important to grieve solstice in whatever manifestation of meaning that represents to you.
With you on this journey.