The term, "Happy Holidays", has always given me the heebie jeebies. Perhaps because of the pressure to feel a certain way about one of the most stressful times of the year. I mean let's face it, 'tis the season to combat a shit-ton of traffic heading just about anywhere, asshats driving like lunatics, and fights over the very last pair of fuzzy slippers on the Macy's rack. Every year I have been more and more bothered by the commercializing of what I'm pretty sure is supposed to have something to do with Baby Jesus. And I'm not even super religious!
Anyway, for the past few years I've dreaded the lines, the overall heightened sense of entitlement, and the bitch-claws that the Christmas season seems to bring.
This year is different.
This year I can't even hear the noise because I'm too busy being happy. It's been a tough year, but that's life. You win some and you lose some, right? I'm a believer that life is on purpose. Things happen for a reason, and with each new day I have the incredible choice to show up or shut down.
I started this blog a year ago to battle a nasty case of postpartum depression and an insane desire to isolate and disappear. Because I shared myself here, you shared yourselves with me. I have been saved from the grips of terminal uniqueness, and I have found purpose. I am beyond grateful for the opportunity to get to know you and to share with you stories of hope, loss, strength, humor, and tragedy. I have no doubt that it is because of you that I am still here.
So, I would like to take this time to wish you all the happiest of holidays. You can have that last pair of fuzzy slippers, because I'm feeling totally content with what I've got.
What are you grateful for this year?