I don’t celebrate Christmas: The struggles of ‘the Scrooge’
It’s the most wonderful time of the year, snow glistening, jingle bells… all things a select few of us couldn’t give a flying fig about. While everyone else is putting up tinsel-covered trees and digging out their cheesiest Christmas jumpers, here are some things you’ll know if, like me, you think Christmas is only good for getting you two days off work.
1. Dreading the first signs of the big C
Now, I think it fitting that this is the first point, as it is the one that irks me the most. It’s no secret that Christmas is a field day for consumerism and shops across the globe; Christmas jumpers alone are a multi-million dollar industry, let alone all the decorations, present purchasing, food, and everything in between. That’s why it’s also no surprise businesses want the Christmas period to last as long as possible to get that extra dollar.
As someone who doesn’t get the hype, walking into a carvery in August (true story), and spotting a lone Christmas tree tucked away in the corner as if just testing the waters, is truly horrifying and even rage-inducing. There are two perfectly good holidays before then: Halloween and bonfire night. So for fig’s sake, keep Christmas at bay until at least the end of November. ONE HOLIDAY AT A TIME PEOPLE.
2. The unbearable return of Christmas ‘classics’
Nothing brings a greater sense of foreboding than the sweet piano intro of ‘Fairytale of New York’, nor does anything offend my ears like the fifty-sixth playing of ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ that day. ‘Let It Snow’ leaves me permanently eye-rolling, ‘Santa Baby’ has me ready to gouge the radio from the dashboard in protest, and don’t even get me started on ‘Winter Wonderland’.
These songs haunt every radio station day in, day out, and have me begging for blissful silence while everyone else belts them out like every day is Christmas karaoke day.
3. Secret Santa is more of a secret chore
Why does everyone think Secret Santa is the cutest, most heartwarming pinnacle of Christmas activities to ever exist? I don’t know about you, but if I’m taking the time to decide on and purchase a gift for someone, I damn well want them to know it came from me.
Scrooge-like? Maybe. But getting Anne from work a gift she’ll probably hate – not surprising when you’re limited to spending a fiver – doesn’t really appeal to me.
4. Having to deal with funny looks when you admit to having no disaster decorating stories because you don’t put any up
Yes, that’s right. Zero Christmas decorations, niente, NONE. No gaudy cartoon snowmen lighting up the front lawn, no knee-quaking moments up ladders putting lights along the roof edge, not even a lone, tastefully-twinkly tree outside. And inside? No uncurling fake, dusty trees and sifting through hundreds of baubles collected over the years, no Santa ornaments or beautifully arranged (and seriously overpriced) miniature villages on window shelves. Not a stocking in sight, even the Christmas cards are begrudgingly blue-tacked onto one door with no fancy hanging card thingywotsists.
Okay, sometimes it’s nice to see entire streets lit up, even the OTT ones that are bordering on eyesore territory. But those moments of weakness are soon quashed when I see viral photos of someone’s lawn covered in The Simpsons characters and I feel the ozone layer thin just from looking at the sheer amount of electricity it must use. It’s enough to kill anyone’s Christmas b*ner, come on.
5. Simply knowing you’re part of a festive minority
Perhaps the worst point on this list is just knowing that every year you have to face the judgemental looks, the incredulous outcries, the accusations of Scroogery when all you want to do is celebrate your own version of Christmas in peace.
There might be a reason that Christmas is lacklustre to you and that you don’t throw yourself into the celebrations with everyone else. Maybe you loved it originally but it’s lost its pizzazz over the years, or maybe you’ve just never been drawn into the four (or God forbid more) month-long business campaign Christmas has become. Whatever our reasons, it’s exhausting having to explain yourself to people who seem physically incapable of even just entertaining the possibility that someone doesn’t celebrate Christmas.
So here is my breakup letter with Christmas. My ‘screw you’ to the Christmas-jumper-wearing, Mariah-Carey-obsessives who would have me ensconced in a snowman-shaped tomb, buried alive for my heathen Christmas opinions. Pelt me with mince pies all you like, but I’m a non-celebrator, and this is my confession.