Time to talk about how Singles feel about the holidays. And to do it without sounding maudlin.
My friend Melinda and I were chatting a few weeks ago. She's a smart, accomplished single Boomer, lives up in St. Paul. We were talking about Thanksgiving (rebel spirit that she is, she was serving her family roast beef and Caesar salad, instead of turkey) when she said, "You should write a Blix about what it's like to be single during the holidays."
Great idea, Melinda! But where to begin?
Shall I start with the general sense of just having to endure the whole season? This can range from a mild, but stoic tolerance to painful, forced-grin occasions. It's not at all that we are Scrooges, or that we begrudge anyone their delight in the holidays. It's the annual struggle of finding our own way to fit in. As experienced and usually-comfortable-in-our-skin Singles, it's odd to find ourselves returning to the same spot. So here we go again.
It's difficult to explain. When we're in the mix with other Singles and couples, maybe a work function or a casual cocktail party, no sweat. What gets tricky are those invitations to join another family. It starts to feel a little schizo. Part of us wants to be included, part of us wants to avoid it. Maybe because being around a happy family, with their inside jokes and histories that require no explanation, can actually make us feel even more lonely. We want to share the day, and yet we don't. To add to the confusion--and trust me, it is confusing!--we can't predict which way we'll feel on our drive back home. Content, with the rosy glow that comes from having had a "happy holiday" experience? Or bummed, because we don't really belong?
Melinda thinks there is a difference between Thanksgiving and Christmas. One matters more than the other. For her, Thanksgiving is more family-based, and therefore tougher to navigate. Christmas is more general; people don't usually invite you over to watch them open their gifts. Besides, by Christmas, we're in the home stretch of the whole holiday thing. New Year's Eve is a cakewalk. Still, I need to think about this a little more. I can't quite identify a particular holiday as being kinder and gentler to Singles.
For me, the hardest part of being single--and alone--at the holidays is going into the grocery store. I can sidestep the malls, which are ridiculous with carols blaring before Thanksgiving. It's easy for me to dismiss the glitzy shopping scene; we all buy too much, anyway. However, I have to eat, and therefore, I have to buy food. It's when I see displays with the special ingredients for holiday foods, that I weaken. Memories of past celebrations come stampeding back. I wistfully recall tasty party dips, containing many blocks of cream cheese. Baking supplies, nuts, candies, fancy baskets and cookie tins. Fruitcake. Yes, even fruitcake. I happen to love fruitcake. That's when I go white-knuckled, wishing I had someone to cook for, and with. Someone to clink my champagne glass with. Veuve Cliquot, of course.
You see my point, now, on the maudlin thing.
"What do you want from us, then?" ask the steadfast married and coupled readers. Let me first say we don't want your happiness; in fact, we cherish and encourage it. We applaud it--it gives us hope, makes us smile. Second, the season doesn't really shake our self-esteem, as much as it may sound like it here. We're not morose, or in danger of hurting ourselves. We're simply trying to muddle through. How much is sheer seasonal hype, how much is what we actually need at this time of year? Even though Boomer women slightly outnumber men, it's still a two-by-two society. And it's more pronounced during the holidays, different from the rest of the year.
So, precious partnered friends, please keep inviting us. Understand that we may or may not accept. I hope this Blix explained. And know that come January 2, we will heave a huge, collective sigh of relief...until Valentine's Day.
Suzy, you could not have expressed my sentiments, and those of many other singles, more appropriately. Family/couple times remind us of past holidays where we were swirling in the midst of cooking for our families, and shopping endlessly for dolls and trucks for our babies for those exciting Christmas mornings. My worst holiday, even worse than the previous two, is New Year's Eve. You are supposed to be heading out to "do the town" with your significant other: sparkly clothes, noisy horns, a home party you are invited to where you welcome in the new year with friends. I have never felt more out of place than sitting at a New Year's Eve party, alone, (during the past 6 years) trying to be festive on the most festive night of the year. I even married my husband of 25 years on New Year's Eve, partly because it would be a happy event to obliterate previous memories of "alone" New Year's Eves from two previous divorces. The tables have turned on me, and now this special night only punctuates a deep and abiding loss. I know this may all sound like a depressing situation, but the human spirit is one of survival in all situations, and so we will each survive in our little holiday struggle, and even find joy, love and hope in unexpected corners of our lives.
Posted by: Amy Johnsen | 11/26/2014 at 09:09 AM
Sets me thinking. We have a group here in Hawaii that always meets for Thanksgiving. Our children are on the Mainland. And there are singles without children in the group, too, and divorced women and one woman who lost her husband two years ago. The host family cooks the turkey and we guests bring the other things to eat. This is very low key, and no one gets that lonely feeling. We have been doing this for many years now.
Posted by: Hattie | 11/29/2014 at 12:57 AM