Solace in Solitude
For me, Christmas is my favorite time of year, point-blank. I see it as the grand finale, the third act of the year. As soon as Halloween is over, I bring out my mini Christmas tree so I can have my minimalist decor up for two full months.
And when December rolls around, I rock a Santa hat for every social outing. Bars, movie theaters, family parties, all of it. My music? About 90% Christmas country songs, with this year’s modern country giving way to more Dolly-era classics as I finish my third year as a country music fan and continue going deeper into the genre.
Traditionally, I attend my grandparents’ big family Christmas party and crash at my dad’s place, then go down the street to my mom’s place on Christmas Day. Depending on how much time off I have, I’ll spend the next few days bouncing between the two. For New Year’s Eve, I either attend a friend’s NYE party or go back to my grandparents’ place, since NYE is also my grandmother’s birthday.
I’m currently writing this during the mysterious week between Christmas and New Year’s. That strange stretch where the Christmas energy is dying down, but people are still on holiday. Around this time every year, my introvert social energy plateaus and I start to feel a bit over all of it.
I went back home today after SEVEN straight days of socializing with friends and family. I honestly can’t remember the last time I went that long without a recharge day—well actually I just did now, the southwest roadtrip of 2022. But that was with good friends who were all also mostly introverts. Most fellow introverted folks can understand how seven straights days of mostly family can take a toll without a recharge. Last night, I felt my social energy dip into the negatives, along with a flood of anxious, worrying thoughts about the year ahead. With those feelings weighing on me, I drove home with a clear mission for solitude.
What a difference an afternoon of me-time makes. I immediately felt calmer and more level-headed, and I was reminded of my core belief that everything that happens is meant to happen, especially when worries take over.
I rarely stay with family that long during the holidays. I know I did it because I’m planning to move next year and wanted to get in as much time as possible. I also wanted to start getting used to not living in my apartment of nearly five years. Now, feeling recharged from the solitude I needed, I’m excited to spend the next few days in this home and neighborhood that has been good to me before things start to ramp up.
Being reminded of the things I am grateful for was the emotional recenter I needed. I try to start each morning by naming three things I’m grateful for, though I tend to forget after a while and eventually remind myself to keep up the practice. The grateful things don’t always have to be deep. It could be as simple as the dinner I had the night before or someone smiling at me from inside a shop window. But right now, I’m especially grateful for this home, and for knowing myself well enough to seek out solitude when I need it.
Normally, my Monday night would mean heading to the gym for them gains, but the holiday spirit hasn’t completely left me yet. I’m staying out of routine, heading to a favorite cafe to catch up on reading instead. And with that, I’m also grateful that spending time with myself has helped burn off the holiday exhaustion just enough for one final festive lap.