A Gay Man on His Own at Christmas - 1. Chapter 1

This will be the first Christmas of my life that I spend on my own.

These past few days have been interesting. I have alternated between feeling sad, defiant, and hopeful. I have spent much time in reflection, pondering questions, and I have found my answer. I hope that, by sharing it, I can understand it better, and maybe even help someone else.

I suppose I should begin by describing how I have come to understand that I have deeply internalized a message that is ubiquitous, a socially constructed narrative that has become part of the way I understand one aspect of human relationships. The message is simple: you should not be alone on Christmas. It is a bad thing. Worse; if you are alone on Christmas, you have somehow failed as a human being.

I see this message take many forms. The first is as punishment. Some Christmas stories in literature and film make it clear that the consequence for selfishness and evil, particularly around Christmas time, is loneliness. It is thus that Scrooge is alone in his cavernous mansion, the deserved outcome of his years of greed. Many movies and cartoons I watched as a kid showed the heartwarming moral that it didn’t matter whether you had money or not for presents around the holidays - what mattered the most were the people around you, those who love you. It’s possible to have a happy Christmas even if the world is falling apart as long as you are surrounded by love on this one special day. The inevitable corollary to this, however, is that being alone is a terrible thing, reserved for the villain, whom we don’t see after being vanquished or, alternatively, is on the outside looking in, shivering in a blizzard while the family inside their home smiles as they bask in warmth and happiness. The villain then, presumably, sulks off to dwell in misery in a cold cave somewhere like a Grinch devoid of humor.

Loneliness around this time is also part of another, more complex message that has to do with the socially expected accomplishments a man must have reached by a certain age. I am 38 years old. At my age, society expects me to have a nice home, a wife, and kids. It expects me to be successful enough to provide for my family, to be handy enough to clamber around the roof of the house to set up intricate Christmas lights, and to be a likable and slightly awkward patriarch who hosts family reunions in his home to hilarious consequences when other members of the extended family come to visit, á la National Lampoon.

It doesn’t even matter that I’m gay. I feel the social pressure and expectation just the same, with the only substitution being that instead of a wife I should have a husband. All else remains the same.

It has always interested me that many of these portrayals of idyllic Christmas time family life often feature the “odd uncle” or aunt, who is sometimes single and either a comedy relief or a subtle admonishment for the audience that would seem to silently indicate that you don’t want to be this person. You don’t want to be lonely Uncle Albert who doesn’t really see people much and is either so odd that it’s uncomfortable to be around him or is so pathetically grateful to have been invited to share in the family dinner that he is to be pitied.

This… pity. This concept that you have to feel sorry for someone who is alone on Christmas irks me to no end. My barber asked me yesterday how I would spend Christmas and I answered that I would spend it at home with my dog. I hated the way I said it, as though apologizing. It made me angry to realize I had internalized this narrative so much that I was now actually starting to feel sorry for myself, and I did not like it at all. I also thought I fancied hearing a tiny note of pity and concern in my sister’s voice as we spoke over the phone and she asked what I would be cooking for myself on Christmas Eve. I couldn’t stand it, and it may just have been in my own imagination, but I’m surrounded by the message that you shouldn’t be alone during the holidays and I couldn’t help but project my own insecurities onto everyone around me.

These thoughts went back and forth in my head for several days. But then I took some time to think, to really think and look deep inside myself.

I have already lived the postcard-perfect life at this time of year. I had a husband, and we spent many holiday celebrations together. Some of them were nice. But near the end of that relationship, it wasn’t the real thing anymore. I now see that I was working ridiculously hard to maintain something that wasn’t working, desperately trying to keep up a sort of Potemkin village of my own life to try and meet social expectations.

And it was awful.

I would much, much rather spend this Christmas on my own rather than go back to the way things were in the past. There is no comparison at all – I am free now. And with this freedom comes a lightness of heart that I did not have in a very long time.

I have felt lonely from time to time, of course. However, when I really stop to think about it, most of the time I actually haven’t felt lonely, I’ve simply been alone. I’m starting to refer to this time here and now as time I spend with myself to really emphasize the fact that this is an opportunity to really get to know who I am and enjoy my own company. Many of us are afraid of being alone, me included. However, I am now seeing this as a test of my strength as a man, as a human being. If I can pass this test and find happiness and compassion within myself, I will have accomplished something great indeed.

I made a promise to myself today. I will never again compromise and accept someone in my life just because I’m scared of being alone. That’s not fair to either of us and it just leads to darkness in the end. I refuse to do that.

Instead, I’m going to cook whatever the hell I want for Christmas Eve and I know for a fact it’s going to be delicious because I’m making it for me. I’ll prepare a tasty treat for my dog, and I’ve already bought a present for myself which is at the foot of the tree - not a surprise, sure, but much better than a generic gift from someone who doesn’t even really know me that well.

It’ll take time, and I may need many years of practice to really get the hang of celebrating with myself, but I have hope for the future. I think I can use this chance to work on building the confidence of an emotionally strong middle-aged man, to build a warm and happy home that my presence alone is enough to fill. Being comfortable and at peace with myself is something that I want to carry out into the world with me if ever I go and share Christmas with others again. I want to be cool Uncle Albert, who sometimes comes to visit for Christmas and is so content and at peace that you can feel it. Maybe one day I’ll meet another man to invite into my home, when I have one, but I’m not in a rush.

This Christmas is going to be special. It’s a rare opportunity for me to sit down, give thanks, and find my inner light.