An Unexpected Holiday Feeling
An, admittedly, very very sappy ode to my people
Well, it’s December. Which, to me, is Holiday Hoo-Be-Whatty time. And that means, a Holiday Hoo-Be-Whatty special! Between now and 12/31, paid subscriptions are 40% for the next 12 months. Oh, it’s the most wonderful time of year!
There is a joke that if I’m at your wedding, there’s likely going to be a picture of me looking on lovingly at some point in the night.
I can’t help it. I love it when my people are happy. (I also love a good candid photo…of myself.)
It’s easy, and feels great to be there for the big things, good and bad—the big successes, the big happiness…es, the big stumbles. Those are the things that tend to be the most noticeable or the most talked about or the most concealed in a way that exposes them immediately. They are the siren songs and that’s when people tend to run towards (or away).
This time of year—”the holidays”—have showing up built in. There are gatherings and parties and celebrations. It’s the most joyous time of year for some, the most terrible time of year for others, and everything in between for the rest. Regardless of how you feel about it, there are probably a few events or obligations on your calendar. At least one thing. Whether you go to whatever it is or not is none of my business but it’s likely there’s something on that calendar. And, to be honest, I do personally love a calendar invite.
The holidays are busy, no matter which way you slice the gingerbread but they’re busy in a way that I’ve really grown to appreciate. That sounds nuts to me as I’d often rather be hunkered down in my room watching some baking competition show but it’s true. Right around this time in December, I usually head to my family’s house for a couple of weeks (leaving on Tuesday) so that means I really try to stack the get-togethers in the weeks from Thanksgiving to when I leave the city. Often, it’s an opportunity to see people I haven’t seen in a while or, possibly, all year. Some people I only see at particular holiday events which make those meetings feel extra special. Sure, I’m really tired but it’s been more than worth it.
This year, I’ve found that I’ve come away from a lot of these events and get-togethers with silly smiles on my face and levity in my heart. I’ve been feeling a lot of pride.
As an adult, to me, it feels much more common to drop in-and-out of people’s lives. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think that’s a reality. We just all have jobs and to-do lists and all sorts of relationships to manage and there’s not usually a consistent centralized place (like school) where you get the low down on a daily basis. I certainly have people I talk to more often than others but, in general, I’m physically showing up in someone’s life after lots of planning. It’s probably a face-to-face after enough time that those faces have usually been through some stuff.
I think these seasonal get togethers—well and things like coffee dates, dinners, or what-have-yous—are celebration moments that are often overlooked in favor of the bigger events like weddings or graduations or births. These are quieter moments to take stock of the person or people you’re in the presence of. It’s a very good time to notice the little things that someone has been working on that may not usually get a spotlight acknowledgment. It’s an opportunity to be observant in a way that maybe feels a bit foreign to us right now. Because it’s not about complimenting what someone is presenting you on social media or in inherently performative situations. It’s about noticing the small things that someone is doing to make them more sure of themselves, more comfortable in the world, more able to go from day-to-day with a bit more contentment in their soul.
My source of pride this holiday season is exactly that. There are so many people in my life who have been working really hard and have accomplished some, of course, big things. But they’ve also accomplished a lot of small things, some seemingly invisible things. They aren’t necessarily ‘happy’ things. They are things that show me that they are starting to understand that they are more the person I already believe them to be. Smart, strong, funny, talented, self-assured, powerful and so on and so on.
When I was a kid, the common discourse was about growing up to be ‘happy.’ “I don’t care what I do as long as I’m happy.” It’s not a bad goal in parts but it’s another thing that is filled with expectation and pressure. ‘Happy’ is slippery and is, in part, affected by things you can’t control. (*Gestures vaguely around.*) In the times when you don’t feel happy or don’t feel like a happy person or haven’t reached those happy goals, it can feel like a failure. It can feel like you don’t deserve any celebrations or even, simply, acknowledgments of all the work it takes to be a human. It takes a lot of work. Particularly to be a human who you yourself feel good about.
I want my friends to be happy. I truly do. I want them to reach whatever big successes and milestones they want for themselves. I’m there to celebrate or cheer or commiserate or scream into the void. My people achieving those things will make me happy too.
Still, it can’t all be big things. What is making me feel incredible pride right now is just how many people in my life feel settled and comfortable in themselves. My heart swells being able to witness the hard work they are putting in and to be a party to the sneaky mundanity of them becoming versions of themselves that they like. It’s so encouraging to see my people enjoy—as much as you can enjoy this hard work—learning and growing and discovering that they’re doing a good job. Full stop.
This is what I think is a true gift of the season. Getting the opportunity to drop into someone’s life to see how far they’ve come in all the smallest and quietest of ways.
Me, on my way to CVS this morning.
THANK YOU for reading. Very seriously, thank you. If you’d like to learn more about the newsletter, here’s my About page. It’s about…me…and this…newsletter.
Paid subscriptions are always nice so if you want to upgrade, I wouldn’t stop you. Or, if a one time support is more your thing, my venmo is @samjeancoop. No matter what—paid, not paid, three little kids in a santa suit—I’m just happy you’re here.
Sharing is also nice. Sharing is a great kind of support. Sharing is, in fact, caring.