Sometimes the Holidays Can Be Hard… [Kitten’s Ramblings]

Good Morning Friends,

Today I feel reflective. The world has slowed down. I’m sitting here in my fuzzy, pink bathrobe with a cup of tea, knowing that there is so much I need to get off of my chest. Normally I am moving at break-neck speed, writing to you about everything and anything related to BDSM and DDLG, but today I am taking a moment of pause. Here, in this space, I can be quiet and simply write from the heart. This topic has been sitting on my heart for a few days now, but I didn’t want to sound morose or depressing to those that read my thoughts and feelings. This space has always been a place of happiness, warmth, and welcoming.

I suppose it’s fitting that today we welcome in those strong feelings attached to Christmas. So let’s dive in. Anyone who knows me, knows that I am a Christmas junkie. But the truth is, that my love for Christmas stems from a time of what once was. My mother used to be the Martha Stewart of Christmas. Growing up in a small, farming town she would decorate the holidays and deck herself in those ugly sweaters all December long. After my parents divorced when I was 10, the magic of Christmas began to rapidly slip away. Now as an adult I cling to what once was, and bring back the magic of the season.

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But in talking to some close friends of mine recently, and from my own experiences, sometimes… the holidays can be hard. We assume that because we’re part of a family that they will always be there. There is something biological and innate that presumes that because we are linked by blood, that a connection will be formed that is everlasting. In truth, at least in my life, that simply isn’t so. It’s a strange feeling to listen to my husband as he talks about the many titos and titas that have been a part of his life. How he had a barkada (close group of friends) throughout the bulk of his 20 years living in the PH. I never had such a thing.

We are all dealt a lottery of “life cards”, if you will, when we are born. Some are born into families who do annual holiday photos and cherish time together. While others are born into families whose members place family on the bottom of their priority list. Drugs and alcohol may plague the family in such a way that it isn’t possible to sustain relationships. Others may choose romantic partners over their own children. And still others simply fade away. They are alive… but the relationship has long been dead. And so while the world is sparkling and bright, and everyone is “decking the halls” and squishing in together as one giant pamiliya… you sit home alone. Maybe you have your partner, or you’re single, but there is an absence within your heart where you long to “belong” somewhere. We all yearn for a sense of family, especially around the holidays.

To those of you, who like myself, come from dysfunctional backgrounds, this next paragraph is especially for you: I get it. Believe me when I say that I understand your pain. We have every reason to want to hide away until January 2nd, waiting for the world to return to normal. I feel the ache in your heart and understand the feeling of closing your eyes and seeing the ones that you’ve lost. I understand the reoccurring dreams where they feel so real that you could almost touch them. It’s okay to pull yourself away and release those strong emotions in tears. Not a Christmas season goes by that I don’t take one day to just cry. I cry for the loss in my life. I cry for quiet in my home, when all my life I had envisioned being a part of one, giant family. I cry as my mind drifts down memory lane remembering a time when they were a part of my life, and I could give them a hug. And so, I cry. I give myself permission to acknowledge those feelings and the scars that they have made on my heart.

And then I rise.

I rise because even though life can be unfair, I’m still here standing. I rise because there is a tiny voice inside of me called hope, that chooses to believe that one day I won’t need to cry at all. I rise because even though I miss them terribly, I am thankful that they were a part of my life. It has made me who I am today. They came into my life like two angelic beings and imprinted forever on my heart. And so I turn my grief into gratitude, and slowly… I begin to see the magic of the season again. Christmas isn’t about the gifts… or the printables… or the carols. It’s about time. It’s about the greatest thing of all, that slips through our fingers far too fast.

From the bottom of my heart I am filled with gratitude for everyone that has come and gone from my life. I choose to fill that void with a sense of peace. I choose to release the image of a giant family from my mind, and instead look at the very few people in my life who choose to be here. I look at the comments on social media from near and far, and smile at the people who took 1 minute in their daily life to write something nice to me. I choose to acknowledge all of the good that is flowing around me.

Yes, the holidays are hard… but the spirit of Christmas is hope.

Thank you all for holding space for me and reading this post. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that this season is magical and bright for you. May you spend your time with the ones you love, doing everything your heart desires. God bless.

~Penny Xx

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