Last year I vetoed Christmas. Well, not really. I vetoed someone else’s plan for my Christmas, and elected to stay home for several days by myself while my husband took the kids to Cleveland to see their grandma and cousins.
The family had just been devastated by the death of my brother in law the month before. Shaun died from complications of ALS in November of 2013 at the age of 45. The sadness and grief that permeated our lives at the time of his death and the days we spent in Cleveland for the funeral, a fireman’s funeral, had created more tension between my husband and I. It wasn’t extra tension I couldn’t handle or bare, and I did so, taking care of my family the best I could while my husband took care of his mom during that sad time.
The timing of my decision to boycott the trip to Ohio a month later wasn’t great, and on the outside seemed selfish and uncaring. Usually I would not have risked damaging my good girl/wife status and I would have gone along to make a Merry Christmas out of the situation, for everyone else. This year I couldn’t, and I knew it.
So without a really great explanation I repeated to my husband again that I would not be joining him this time. I said no. I put on my oxygen mask first.
After my family left, that Christmas afternoon, I furiously gathered my stuff and packed my own car. I headed to our cabin in West Virginia for several days of much needed solitude. Except rather than enjoying the silent, serene time among the trees, I paced the house, my anxiety-ridden heart tightening by the second. The voices in my head were telling me I had made a mistake. They were telling me I was a bad person and that I had made a bad decision. It took three full days to shut them up before I was able to relax into being alone and open up to receiving peace.
This was really the first time I had refused to do something I really didn’t want to do, even when it meant hurting feelings. I had years of obligatory trips and behavior behind me and never once did I feel good about those selfless decisions. I was just doing what a good person would do, not what my spirit yearned for. Everyone else was content but me. And I am convinced I was not fun to be around those trips. The anger, frustration, and discomfort had to show up on my face, in the tone of my voice, and in my silence.
Going through with the veto was a turning point in my life. It was about realizing my self worth and being able to make decisions that would nourish me instead of draining me. It took everything I had not to fall into my old pattern of behavior and just say, “Okay, I will go with you.” In addition to my husband, there were my two kids waiting for that answer as well. I was letting them all down to save myself.
What I realized after my time alone is that we all survived. My family might have been disappointed but they still loved me. I was able to recharge, have some time to discover what I really wanted and needed, and ultimately everyone that came into contact with me would benefit from that in the long run. It was okay that I prioritized me.
To always say yes, never give yourself what you need, and stay in a state of regret and resentment will quickly suck the ever loving life out of you. Better to stay proactive about filling yourself up, recharging your batteries as often as possible and living from a place of abundant energy. One can only freely give from this kind of overflow. Giving from your reserves will always end up burning you out in the end.
So yes, I vetoed Christmas last year. I was running on my reserves, burning out and unhappy. Making the decision to give myself that gift was what allowed me to welcome my family home again with more love, more gratitude and more joy. I had to make some space for that stuff to flow again. And if I had to do it again I would. Giving from an overflow is effortless, positive, energy. Who doesn’t need more of that?
As I prepare for the trip to Cleveland with my family this year I feel full, and intensely blessed. I will be able to share myself with everyone in a way that is a full expression of who I have become. I will be able to share my passions and gifts because I am saying yes from a place of overflow, not reserves. The shift in that energy will make a difference, a Christmas experience that I create out of awareness and gratitude.
I have promised myself a couple things this time. To say no when I need to. And to meditate and write daily while I am there, two practices that have brought me to the place I am. I aim to have this experience, in any way it shows up, but not to let expectations drive it. I promised myself I would let my family get to know me a little more, the real me, the writer, the healer, and the teacher, instead of hiding in my cave afraid to show them my colors and afraid to be me.
Here I come Cleveland, ready or not. Merry Christmas!
