I’m beating a dead horse at this point writing about Christmas being complicated for my kiddos, but every year it’s yet another reminder that holidays do not look the same through a lens of trauma.
A has always enjoyed Christmas, but it can still bring up some rough memories for her. She was the scapegoat in her bio family, so she’s very sensitive about things like whether or not she’s getting as much attention or as many gifts as everyone else. It looks selfish on the surface sometimes, but it’s really rooted in a deep fear of not belonging and not feeling like ‘enough’.
A2 is the one who has the hardest time with it. Her main abuser’s birthday is on Christmas, so it brings up a LOT of feelings. She is doing her best to keep ahead of the ptsd responses, but it really is tough. She’s joining us for most of the festivities, but sitting others out.
RB was the big surprise this year. He did pretty well with Christmas last year and he says he’s been looking forward to it, but he’s been an absolute beastie this past week. When questioned about it, he revealed that he’s remembering a lot of really terrible Christmases he had in the past. For example, being sent to his room when everyone else was opening gifts because he was the only one who “didn’t deserve Christmas”. He was seven. So that’ll stick with a person.
However RB apparently really does enjoy the day. He made me cry when he told me that he was excited for this year because last year was the first time he had ever had a good Christmas, and that he knows this year will be good too.
Little S of course hasn’t experienced holiday trauma and, as a mostly normal 7yo, she loves Christmas.
If I am being entirely honest (which I try to be), I sometimes grieve the kind of Christmases my crew will never have. Our family will never have an uncomplicated hallmark-esque holiday, and our Christmas will always be bittersweet. It makes me sad for my kids, and a tiny, shameful bit wistful for what could have been if we had never opened our doors to the beautiful mess that is my three oldest children. I would never trade them, not for a million perfect Christmases, but sometimes it stings a little. Still, I just do the best I can and keep moving forward. Because our Christmases are messy, but so was the very first Christmas. The baby born in a barn 2000 years ago didn’t come to make things easy, He came to make them right. My job is to remember why we celebrate, and to do my best to show my kids the love and grace that is given to me every single day.