In the two-plus decades since I’ve been a parent, Dec. 1 marks the return of Christmas music into my family’s life. It’s heard in the car, the kitchen, whenever and as often as possible, to conclude triumphantly on Dec. 25. When I was the supreme mama ruler of young ones, this was all well and good, but as the kids grew up and developed their own musical preferences, enjoying the mandatory 25 days of holiday tunes became a challenge at times. Still, I forged ahead.
“It’s once a year! It’s festive and joyful,” I proclaimed, only to receive the prerequisite preteen eye roll.
Nevertheless, I persevered. On Dec. 26, we could return to rap, yacht rock, EDM and more.
This Dec. 1, however, I found myself not gravitating to those traditional songs. In fact, the day came and went and nothing happened. Even the reigning queen of holiday music, Mariah Carey, couldn’t get me in the mood. By Dec. 3, I tried to will myself to listen, a sort of lyrical kick in the pants. Eh, it was fine, like required reading on a syllabus. Perhaps because Thanksgiving was so late this year, or because it’s the first year my children aren’t at home, or just the state of the world, I told myself. It was hard to say, but I just wasn’t feeling it. Silence seemed like a better driving companion.
As we all know from the countless ads and movies, many of which have been running for weeks now, this is a time for cookies, good cheer and family togetherness — a time for love and gratitude. And while I’m a huge fan of all those things, as a mental health professional, I know that December can be anything but “the most wonderful time of the year” for some. For those who are ill, struggling with careers or relationships, or just in the figurative valley of life, being met with our many platitudes like “be grateful,” “look on the bright side” and “be positive” don’t really help. If anything, they send the message that feelings of sadness, worry or anger are not welcome guests. Many feel an inordinate pressure, especially when meeting with extended family, to have life all figured out, to be “successful,” and if they haven’t, to at least put on a good show. All the dreaded questions — Have you met anyone special yet? Any luck on the job front? Have you decided on a major yet? — while often well intended are reminders of our inadequacies, our self-imposed benchmarks not yet met.
Very few of us are immune from the impulse to be overly positive during this time, even those of us who know better. In the past, I have been guilty of being the positivity cheerleader in my home. Look at all our blessings! Others would give anything to have our lives! While true, these responses often shut down any feelings that sound “ungrateful.” Should we remember that the basic needs of food and a safe place to live should not be taken for granted? Of course, one need not go far from our Marin front doors to be reminded of that.
But riding the positivity wave only takes us so far; like most everything in life, it’s about balance. If our lives are trending upwards right now and our gratitude is genuine, that’s wonderful. If there are small bumps in our road right now and focusing on all the good in life helps us to stay centered as we navigate challenges, then great. But if we have a need for everything to be good or seem good, where happiness is the only acceptable feeling, even at the expense of ignoring more painful emotions, then Houston, we have a problem. To be clear, positivity in the form of affirmations and journaling are wonderful practices in our daily lives that are incredibly helpful for mindset, self-esteem and general well-being. But there is such a thing as too positive. I consider myself a “glass half-full” person. But let’s not forget that the other half is still empty. Our glass doesn’t have to be all the way full all the time and we shouldn’t expect it to be. If sunny positivity is the only reality we accept, our other more challenging feelings get boxed up and shelved. Sometimes life just isn’t that great, and sometimes it just flat out stinks, and that’s OK.
So, as we look to the new year, perhaps we can think less about gratitude and happiness like a light switch that’s either on or off and more like a pendulum that naturally sways. We humans aren’t robots with a permanent cheerful setting, not yet anyhow. Let’s allow ourselves and those we care for the most to experience the holidays without always having to look for the silver lining, the message or the positive spin. Let’s celebrate the lemons and not just the lemonade.
Arbella O. Parrot is a Marin clinical psychologist.
