Breathe.Gratitude.Love.

This year something beautiful is scheduled to happen. My teenagers are planning to spend most of their winter break with their dad. They have not spent a holiday with him in 10 years.

It took a lot to get to this point. The ice blocks of emotions tied to divorce slowly melted enough for the kids to build a relationship with their father. As their mother who grew up without ever knowing her father, it feels like a dream fulfilled to see the lines of connection growing stronger between my kids and their dad.

But divorce took a serious toll on my social life. As with a lot of women (and by a lot, I mean all), I did not have much time to recover before my feet hit the ground of survival. Within two months of the initial separation, I:

• Started a new job
• Moved to a new home
• Sold my car
• Changed the kids’ school
• Lost the support of a housekeeper
• Experienced a significant income decrease
• Experienced an eviction
• Lost relationships with close and supportive friends and neighbors
• Became a single parent-again

These initial two months turned into years of alternating between digging my way out of a deficit and surviving. I lost the majority of my support system during this transition, so there weren’t any friends to talk to.  I didn’t want to constantly bring others down with my barrage of problems, and I found it easier to isolate.  Soon the few people I considered friends became vague memories of past interactions. 

I remembered the friends I had before moving to follow the trajectory of the now-dissolved marriage, but we had long ago lost contact.  I remembered the friends who lived near by, but we had grown apart.  I relied mostly on daycare and babysitters to help with the kids. I found myself alone and unable to remember how to reach out to others.  I only knew how to survive.

But these years were not wasted. They made it easier for me to settle down and take a deep breath. My view eventually became unobstructed by the opinions of others, allowing me a wider view of the reality in which I lived. I needed time to see more of the path that lay behind me and grant myself some here and now compassion. I needed space to recognize the roots of present-day wounds and to develop the wisdom to heal. I needed the expanded insight to move forward with my new tools of self-love, self-compassion, and self-discipline that would help me carve out a life that I wanted to live.

The Transitional Period

The weight of the years of struggle finally began to shed, allowing me to feel the hope that eluded me for so long. My growth was mirrored by the growth of my kids, who were now much more confident and independent. We were all moving in new directions, and spending the holidays with their dad was a big development for our long-standing unit of 3.

With my excitement for their new path came the realization that I would likely spend the holidays alone.

I stood in this space that allowed me to see the healing of the past and feel the auspiciousness of the future. But the present space held an unfamiliar feeling of calm contentment. Of course it would be different spending time alone during one of the most non-alone times of the year, but it felt like exactly where I needed to be.

Points of Solitary Celebration

Reflection– Facing the holidays alone made me think of my absolute favorite holiday moment ever. It was somewhere in my preteen years. My maternal family was very large, with 11 aunts and uncles and dozens of cousins. On Christmas we would all visit the home of my grandparents. Their home was a modest 4-bedroom, 1 bathroom house that felt like a mansion in my young heart. There were acres of land for the cousins to run and play while the adults were inside cooking and chatting or relaxing on the porch.

This particular Christmas gathered us all around the freshly cut tree that reached from floor to ceiling in the corner of the sitting room, and the gifts seemed stacked nearly as high. The time came to open the gifts, and someone was appointed to hand them out. Each person watched the person in the gift-unwrapping spotlight.

For some reason, we all started yelling “ooh…aah!” in unison every time that a gift was unwrapped and presented for everyone to see. I can still remember the laughter and joy that seemed to vibrate in every corner of my young body during the creation of this new tradition. The “ooh…aah!” was increasingly proceeded by comedic modelings and pronouncements of the unwrapped gift. It would seem that the joke would get old with each new gift, but somehow the laughter and joy grew bigger and wider for with each unwrapping.

I can remember the radiant smile on my grandmother’s face as she watched us cracking ourselves up with laughter. It seemed she would be satisfied with this moment lasting forever. I remember the fragrance of the tree and the smell of the wood-burning stove keeping my grandfather warm in the other room. I remember being absolutely in love with family, and how it was multiplied to infinity by something as simple as a repetitive chorus of “ooh…aah!”. To me it was a melody that would play in the chambers of my heart for the rest of my life.

Things are much different now. My grandparents are both gone and I don’t see much of my family anymore. But the laughter, the joy and warmth of the gathering around that Christmas tree from my childhood is enough for my heart to cherish into eternity.

Feeling my Feelings– As much as I love sweeping things under the “its okay” rug, doing so would likely cause a years-long emotional blockage. Therefore, it is okay for me to feel that I want my kids to finally have time with their dad, and I also wish they could be here with me.

It is okay for me to feel that I miss having close friends and family to spend the holidays with.

It is okay for me to feel disoriented about how I got here- how I got to the place of being completely alone at one of the most connected times of the year.

It is okay for me to feel happy and sad at the same time.

Gratitude– Sometimes saying “be grateful” comes across as a bit disingenuous. It can feel as though one’s personal experience or circumstances are being devalued.

But my personal gratitude comes much easier after acknowledging my true feelings. After sitting in the feelings of facing the holidays alone, I can be grateful for the free time that will allow me to reconnect with some of the things that have been put on hold to prioritize raising my kids.

I can be grateful for the space created through deep healing that can now hold healthier friendships and relationships.

I can be grateful for the days when I will look back on this time of being alone and pay gratitude for the new people in my life.

Connecting with Nature– Time alone is the perfect time to connect with nature. Time alone allows time with nature to flow naturally and without time constraints of other obligations. Plus nature reminds us that we are never really alone.

Thinking of Others– Facing time alone this holiday season made me think about those who may be marginalized due to advanced age, decreased agility, and limited finances. There are countless ways to connect those of us blessed with autonomous mobility with those who have no means of visiting others for the holidays. Perhaps this is the opportunity to reach a bit further beyond ourselves and extend a moment of happiness to someone else.

Rewarding myself with rest, peace and quiet– My 10-year-long road to bouncing back did not come with predictable rest stops. So while it is admirable to reach out and connect with others, it is just as admirable to not. Soaking in the still, quiet moments recharges the spirit and provides a store of energy for when things return to routine. Therefore it is okay to do nothing and think nothing of it.

Christmas to Come

There is no way to know what the next holiday season will look like for me. The kids will be a year older and even more independent. Perhaps they will want to spend another year with their dad. Maybe they will want more time with their friends. I will be even happier to watch as they expand and flourish on their own.

I do know that the next holiday season starts with who I am and where I am right now, in this moment.

And I really love who I am.

My life is far from perfect, but it is my life. I take responsibility for the fullness of my own story. It is challenging for sure, but these are my challenges. They reveal me as loving and capable, strong and kind.

I love that I try new things. I love that I talk to strangers, follow moon cycles, walk barefoot through the grass, write poems and pet dogs. I love that I am really organized in some areas and a complete mess in others. I love that I always want to know more and be more.

My truest hope is to find the tribe and the love that I’ve longed for over the years.

I hope to hang even more bulbs, ribbons and trinkets on the Christmas tree next year. I hope to put a candle in every window and to hang a wreath on single door of the house.

I hope to bring friends together for a holiday brunch with delicious food, festive music, and plenty of laughter..

But if none of this ever happens and I spend another holiday alone, I am grateful that I love my own company.

For those of us braving it alone and for those celebrating with family, friends, pets nature and soulmates, i wish us all the best. Happy Holidays!

It is released.