THINGS I AM BANNING THIS CHRISTMAS

Right. Things I am banning this Christmas. Please relax my darlings. Here are some things from your Momma Book Bear.

1. Comparing yourself to others. This is totally banned.

2. Making yourself ill by pushing yourself to create a perfect tableau. Basically, everyone just wants to eat more crisps and you could consider some sort of crisp adventure; a crisps tableau.

3. Assuming other people’s families live in total harmony and if they truly are pretty harmonious, remember that this is not necessarily earned, but luck. I mean, I don’t have parents, but it’s not because I killed them. (Sorry if that startled you.) So be gentle on yourself there babykins.

4. Looking at social media and seeing it as a consistent view of someone else’s experience. LOOK HOW HIDEOUS THIS PICTURE IS and note that the look in her eye is of escape and slightly sexy because she fancies the photographer, and her husband is dull as fuck and insisted on this joyless, two-tone, spendy co-ordinated tree abomination, when what she really wanted was an inflatable grinch and coloured flashing lights, camp as tits.

5. Assuming everyone else is having a brilliant time and not actually wanting to run away at some point or indulging some secret fantasy of a thing they would do just to shock people – like shagging their particularly hot neighbour

6. Your assumption that people are telling the truth about how they are feeling. EVERYONE has problems. EVERYONE. Some nurse a hideous seething morass of them; a terrible, raging, ongoing existential crisis – but they don’t articulate it other than in, maybe, unattractive moments of passive aggressiveness. Yes – even with glossy folk with what appears to be the perfect line-up. These feelings can be particularly acute at Christmas because of expectations, I always think.

7. Worrying because you don’t have a family, don’t see your family, are estranged from people. MY DARLINGS. There is a whole world of people out there just waiting for you. THEY can be your family and there’s no hurry. As I like to say, family is a flexible construct.

8. Feeling upset because you don’t have children and there’s always some twat going on about how Christmas is special because of children. Baby Jesus is special and an outlier here, and yes children, young nativity play children, can be delightful, but I can’t be the only one who was also breathing a sigh of relief when they fucked off to the park on their own instead. Also, they open their stockings at 3am and then get wired on chocolate and are hideously behaved and you’re knackered. It is ONE way. Pets are also nice. And books. And cheeseboards. Down with this bollocks.

9. I am banning any guilt or fuck me am I weird because I WANT to spend Christmas on my own. NOPE. You are being true to yourself and you can have a gold star for that. There are terrible things happening right now and the last few years have been a considerable strain. Please be true to what your body and mind are crying out for right now if you are tired – bone tired. No way are you doing this Christmas Eve box thing for kids, and you can ditch the matching Christmas pyjamas if you don’t actually want to do that and everyone needs to know that an alternative to making a cake is a massive pyramid of doughnuts from Lidl with maybe some sparklers on top. Sprig of holly if you like. More fun is generally had when expectations are lowered and you’re not too tired to do things or crying because you feel like you didn’t do ENOUGH. That you are alive is the miracle of ages; I mean, it’s amazing, and not everyone gets to be that way. Deep breaths and perspective (and crisp smorgasbord – see above).

10. Also guilt at not wanting to spend much time with family? If it’s going home (I wouldn’t know because I have no experience of being an adult with parents, but I can SEE), there can be discomfort at being swatted back to your earliest pathology. There are narratives which develop in families and sometimes, you know, you don’t feel good about that. At this stage, there may be little or nothing you can do. Have some miniatures in your handbag and don’t feel bad if an uncharitable thought creeps in – but don’t have so many miniatures you say what’s in your head during Christmas dinner. You know, like in the Eastenders Christmas special when it all goes horribly wrong

Did this help at all?