Move to a different country (and other tips for a stress-free Christmas)
I’ve lived in Australia since 2007. In that time, I’ve spent two Christmases in Canada — my country of birth. People always ask me if I get homesick at Christmas and the truth is, I don’t. As far as I’m concerned, moving to a different country is the best way to have a peaceful Christmas. But if that’s not feasible for you, here are three things I’ve learned about creating a joyful holiday season — even if you have to stay put.
O Holy Night
Growing up in Canada, Christmas was an Extremely Big Deal. Christmas Eve at Grandma’s. Carols. Church. On Christmas Day, my parents hosted our extended family (up to 35 people) for dinner. I loved it as a kid, but as a grown up it is my literal nightmare.
Since I have ADHD, the planning, cooking, shopping, and card-writing take up a lot of my executive function prowess. Which, let’s face it, is pretty thin on the ground at the best of times. But moving to another country has allowed me to let go of a lot of this expectation and focus on the things that work for my family and me.
Create your own traditions
One of the most exciting things about becoming an adult is creating new traditions. But when it comes to big-ticket holidays like Christmas, it can be hard to carve out new ideas under the weight of Dad’s Famous Egg Nog and Grandma’s fruitcake (which seems to endure despite the fact that nobody likes it).
Moving countries provides plenty of space (18,000-f**king-kilometres, according to my Dad) to create new traditions. Ones that are meaningful — today — to you and your family. In our house, we start the season by eating pizza, picnic-style, in front of our Christmas tree, no earlier than 1 December. It’s not chestnuts roasting, but it’s simple, fun, and our kids love it.
Let go of foods that don’t serve you
Don’t get it twisted: most Christmas faves were honed by the patriarchy and involve women spending hours-to-weeks preparing elaborate dishes and sides. Generally the men stare, dead-eyed, at the cooking turkey (stuffed and prepared by someone else) only to receive lashings of praise for cooking the tastiest carcass.
Australian Christmas is hot — so a roast dinner is out of the question. This means we get to (gasp!) eat foods that we actually like. Seafood, salads, and a special dessert or two keep us happy enough. These foods are light and delicious, but the best bit is they leave us enough time to spend a few hours at the beach (which is a lot more fun than being stuck in the kitchen all day).
If shopping, prep, cooking, and cleaning up after an elaborate meal don’t spark joy, consider this your permission to consolidate the menu, order in, or head to a restaurant. Do you, boo.
Say no
As a recovering Catholic, I find it very liberating to take Christ out of Christmas. I remember feeling guilty even thinking about presents. As if I, a CHILD, should have — thanks to some God-given fortitude — been able to resist the collective marketing efforts of the entire toy industry in favour of worrying about the frozen baby Jesus.
This is not to say that you should eschew church on Christmas. If you’re into it, by all means get to churching. But if there’s something else about Christmas you can’t stand? Stressing about spending equal time with each side of the family? Managing your divorced parents’ expectations? Starting the year on the back foot because you spent more than you could afford?
Say no. You’re entitled to enjoy the holidays — not spend them in subservience to other people’s demands. Which brings me to my final tip:
Take care of you
Whether you move to a different country or not, it’s worth taking a moment to think about how Christmas makes you feel. And if the weight of other people’s expectations is overwhelming — whether you birthed those people or they birthed you — it’s okay to reassess. Moving to the other side of the world has its downsides. But creating a God-less, stress-less, Christmas that works for our family certainly isn’t one of them.
