I've had a lot of mixed feelings about Christmas over the years. As a kid, I felt alternately excited and guilty. Excited: obvious. Guilty because my parents went overboard when buying me gifts, and I never seemed to have enough money to buy them anything they really wanted, and I was bad at buying gifts anyway.
When I was a teen, the excitement gave way to guilt and fear. Fear that I wouldn't be excited enough or grateful enough or happy enough that I'd forget to buy gifts, which I usually did. I secretly hid a lot of depression and social anxiety as a teen, and Christmas really brought that out. At holiday family gatherings I was often at the brunt of most of the teasing. There were peaceful and loving moments during this time as well, but I tend to forget those since pain is much louder than joy.
In my early twenties, as a single mom, I had a couple of really great Christmases. I was on my own, in my own place, making my own choices. I found a lot of spirituality and peace during this time. I was still Mormon, and my boy really small. Everything was very magical at this time in my life, and somehow I tapped into the "True Meaning of Christmas". I remember listening to a lot of music, like Mannheim Steamroller and a Mormon production called The Forgotten Carols (both of which I would still recommend to this day). A Fresh Aire Christmas had a lot of choir music that is really beautiful, like
Veni Veni, Emmanuel.
When I lost religion, I became very cynical around Christmas. Its blatant commercialism became clear to me, which rang chimes with my feelings of guilt and fear as a child. I had mixed feelings about the idea that only a baby god child could bring peace to the earth... a peace which never seemed to come, in spite of the promises of angels on high.
