Unpopular opinion: I’m just not that into Christmas
In particular, gifts - why (and how) we opted out. Happy holidays!
Hi! This is Leyla from A Day Well Spent, a newsletter seeking pathways to more purposeful living.
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For most of the year, I go by the name of Leyla. But from approximately the middle of November when the tinsel takeover begins, until the sweet release of that strange but welcome liminal downtime between Christmas and New Year, you will also find me responding to Grinch and Scrooge (Ebenezer and/or McDuck).
The last month of the year starts tomorrow (which also happens to be A Day Well Spent’s 6 month anniversary 🎈) and it is this moment – collectively perched on the precarious precipice of unfettered festive madness – that I think it’s about time I shared with you, dear reader, that I’m just not that into Christmas.
I’m not a Christmas hater, that’s too strong a word. And I am in no way Christmas-shaming or trying to crush anyone’s yuletide joy; we live in an uncertain world and this time of year brings light, love and laughter to many — there can never be too much of that. Plus Christmas is a significant religious celebration for millions.
I also do have a Christmas jumper (emblazoned with BAUBLES) and I will wear it at various points this month, non-ironically. Plus I am partial to a steaming glass of hot red wine with floating tree bark and I very much enjoy a Boxing Day turkey sandwich with pickled onions. I will also accept pets in festive outfits with bells on their collars.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t start going hard with the bah-humbugs from approximately now until the whole overly formulaic, repetitive and anti-climatic ordeal of enforced fun and rampant consumerism masquerading as the ‘season of goodwill’, is over.
Before I share the main singular reason I have an aversion to the festive holidays, please indulge me and my following tirade.
A few of my favourite reasons why Christmas grinds a lot of my gears
The fever starts too early, I think we can all agree that Christmas should happen at Christmas and not from SEPTEMBER which is when I spotted the first decoration for sale this year
Caramel pumpkin chai-spiced waffle eggnog lattes
‘It’s a great excuse to spend time with friends and family’ – shouldn’t we be doing this more than once a year? And maybe with less alcohol?
The word Christmas being replaced with substitutes such as crimbo, crimmus and crimble
The fresh hell that is cheese with fruit inside it
Glitter
The addition of hard liquor to daily foodstuffs including but not exclusive to, butter
Christmas trees in any colour other than green
Peppermint with chocolate, like brushing your teeth with a bar of Dairy Milk
Every single Christmas song ever. Apart from those on South Park’s Mr Hankey’s Christmas Classics
Travel chaos
Decorations that go up on November
Decorations that are still up in the middle of January
Christmas films – how many times can a person watch the same thing?
Wrapping paper that can’t be recycled, which is a lot of wrapping paper
The socially accepted ‘free pass’ to over consume and treat our bodies like trash for a whole month
The affliction of Christmas restaurant menus. Can’t we just have a normal cranberry-free meal?
Overheated and stuffy houses, cars, public transport and places of work
Christmas TV – it’s always disappointing (except for the first ever MasterChef: Battle of the Critics 2023 Christmas special which I will be on which you should of course definitely watch, date TBC)
Secret Santa
Being taught by the same TV chefs how to cook a turkey for the 23rd year in a row
Christmas jumpers at risk of self-combusting near a naked flame
The Christmas Number 1 song
Tinsel
Having to think about and plan for what you’ll be eating on this one single day weeks in advance, including spreadsheets and securing your supermarket food delivery slot in November
It can be a really hard and lonely time for a lot of people yet society tells us we’re all meant to be having the best time with our loved ones
The unadulterated and distilled pressure of being the one responsible for cooking the Christmas meal
Condiments and sauces you only see once a year, for a reason
Senior management wearing reindeer antlers at work
Black Friday, Cyber Monday, Boxing Day sales
The yawning chasm between the haves and have nots, at its widest in December
The lack of daylight
When it snows
When it doesn’t snow
Binge-drinking for a month straight because it’s easier than opting out of this whole farce
Plastic Christmas trees
January pavements littered with the carcasses of real Christmas trees
The endless sofa sitting
Eating a huge meal by 2pm
Family members asleep by 3pm
But the biggest gripe I have with this time of year?
It’s the gifts. The buying, the giving, the receiving — everything about Christmas gifts.
The stress of selecting, the burden of battling busy shopping streets, the late night hours scouring online retailers, concentrating all your energy into feigning a believable reaction of joy so as not to hurt anyone’s feelings, the pang of failure when you register the disappointed micro-expression on a receiver’s face.
Some children getting spoilt with anything they wish for, other children lucky to receive a hot meal, kids playing with their new toy for 5 minutes before they’re bored with it, the pressure to spend spend spend, the pressure to keep up with the Joneses, the daily dwindling funds, the unseen homeless sitting outside stores customers flounce out of 5 shopping bags deep, buying gifts just because it’s routine and expected as opposed to actually wanting to.
And the acres of pure and utter tat for sale at this time of year that no one needs nor wants.
Readers who have been around for a while may remember a piece I wrote called why I really, really don’t like shopping and so my being repelled by mainstream Christmas gift buying may come as no surprise. All my reasoning in that piece is magnified tenfold towards the end of the year.
Couple this with the fact that gift-giving anxiety is a real and visceral thing that I used to experience quite acutely, I struggle to understand why those who don’t enjoy this annual high street stampede continue to put themselves through it each year.
The year my family ended the giving of Christmas gifts
Psychologists note that gift-giving anxiety – a form of social anxiety where the individual feels a level of anxiety based on the need for approval and the fear of being negatively judged (the recipient doesn’t like it, it’s not expensive enough, they already have it etc.) – is a real problem during the holidays.
My mounting sense of dread would begin around the time the clocks went back here in the UK, the end of October.
With the looming expectation of having to source multiple thoughtful and individual gifts that wouldn’t end up on eBay within days, alongside the fact my entire family also have their birthdays from November to January, and the last couple of months of my year were fully occupied by this very specific strain of angst.
In an attempt to ease the suffering for all of us (and I’m really only talking about my immediate and adult family here – having to source gifts for more than a handful of people sounds like Dante’s 7th circle of hell), one year I suggested we each come up with Christmas gift wish lists. Which we all did and the stress valve was cracked open, it helped a lot.
But along with the stress went any meaning to the gift-giving exercise at all; what is the point of giving someone a gift they have specifically requested? Where’s the surprise, the consideration, the thoughtfulness, the demonstration of knowing that person so well that you have totally nailed what they would love? Plus, I was still harangued by questions such as: have I spent an equal amount on each person? does everyone have the same number of gifts to open?
You might as well hand someone a couple of notes or a gift voucher and tell them to buy the thing themselves, there’s little difference. And if I do really want or need something, I’m not going to wait until December and ask someone else to get it for me. I would just get it myself at the time I needed it.
Forcing myself to think up a list of items I would actually appreciate and value that I didn’t already have was becoming harder each year. I am the person who says ‘please don’t get me anything’ and I mean it.
Plus, consider the huge quantities of crap in my eyesight right now that I have accumulated over the years thanks to capitalism. No one really needs any more fast-fashion polyurethane socks made in Vietnam that will last a few months and eventually end up in the Great Pacific Trash Vortex.
So, one year I stepped it up a gear and tentatively suggested to my family that we put a stop to this whole gift buying and giving pantomime entirely. Everyone would be off the hook. No one would receive anything but also no one had to buy anything. We would instead just enjoy each other’s company, good food and some nice wine – the holy trinity of a joyful time. The gifts would be out.
After a mere matter of moments — and to my surprise — everyone was immediately on board. We exhaled a sigh of relief and our collective shoulders dropped. From that day on, the run up to Christmas and the day itself was transformed.
Sure, I might sneak a bottle of bubbly to my parents or a jar of homemade granola to my brother. But beyond this, Christmas gifts have been absent for years and I think it was the best decision we ever agreed upon as a family.
It turns out opting out was an option all along.
Of course, there are some presents that are always well received
Should anyone, for any inexplicable reason, feel an overwhelming urge to generously bestow upon me a gift at any time of year, I would always very gratefully receive any of the following, in no particular order:
good red wine
good cheese (without the fruit thank you)
good bread
good olive oil
good books
a donation to Practical Action, the charity I am an ambassador of
something you’ve lovingly made yourself
something unique crafted by an artisan
Substack subscriptions
In case you didn’t know, you can buy someone a gift subscription to your favourite Substack publication, just add /gift to the end of the Substack URL to take you to the page.
And if one of your favourite Substacks happens to be this one called A Day Well Spent, that I write (hello 👋 that’s me — Leyla aka The Grinch that stole Christmas), that you are reading right now, here is a little button that could help take some of that gift-giving anxiety away.
I have also previously shared some of my favourite brands doing good which readers may find useful at this time of year:
Incidentally (and ironically?) next week’s post is a practical how to guide related to something that I think could actually make a really cool gift, for the right person.
I was brazen enough to ask the very small and independent London-based business if they would be willing to offer an exclusive discount code for my readers — they very generously obliged.
So stay tuned for that.