Not every child experiences the perfect Christmas.
As Christmas fast approaches (literally eight days away, holy cow) I relish the opportunity to do all those wholesome holiday things.
I love filling my cats’ stockings with tuna treats and springy toys. I’m thrilled to top our tree with a sparkling glowy star and sneak away to wrap my boyfriend’s present. And boy, do I look forward to his authentic Puerto Rican coquito.
The apartment smells of cinnamon and gingerbread, and it fills me with a comfort that’s both so welcomed and yet so foreign.
It hadn’t really dawned on me before, that perhaps why I now wholeheartedly embrace the tradition of Christmas, though I am in no way religious, is because it’s a way to cultivate what I never really had in childhood: a sense of peace.
In other words: Christmas provides a sense of normality. And for someone with a less-than-normal childhood, that feeling matters. A lot.
I hadn’t always given Christmas the same thought. When I was little, all I knew was Christmas meant getting one of those cheap kiddy art sets from Angel Tree.
If you don’t know what that is, Angel Tree is an organization that provides gifts to children of parents who are incarcerated. It comes with a note from the parent, written in prison. That way there’s at least some semblance of connection during the holiday.
My mother knew I liked art, and therefore always asked for it.
Unwrapping the gift was … fine. Reading the letter from my mom, on the other hand, was outright numbing. It just didn’t compare to the real thing. To talking. To seeing her react to my surprise. To hugging.
“Little me” didn’t realize that all I wanted for Christmas was the one thing I couldn’t have, and to ease the pain of longing, I would feel nothing instead. All I understood was art set + mom’s letter = Christmas.
This is by no means a complaint against Angel Tree; I think what they do is an amazing contribution. I certainly used the hell out of those watercolor paints and oil pastels, and it most definitely made a positive impact on my life.
And my mom did her best. This is not a judgment of her character nor a degradation of her parenting. It just is me saying: I didn’t feel what I think I was supposed to feel, as a little kid at Christmas time.
Having this holiday apathy, I spent my teens being “too cool” for Christmas, and looked down on it as some kind of capitalist conspiracy. Then as an adult working at amusement parks, Christmas simply became “holiday pay day.” Yes, I suppose you could say I leaned into that same capitalism I fought so hard against during my formative years. What a sellout.
I spent the holiday wearing a prosthetic “Who nose,” stilt walking, entertaining the crowds. And when that fat check came in, I would always wonder if the 12+ hours were worth it.
It wasn’t.
(Again, no ill intentions toward my former place of employment. Plenty of my coworkers loved spending Christmas this way. I just did it for the wrong reasons.)
Knowing what I do now, it makes perfect sense that I allowed the holidays to fuel my raging workaholism. It was a way to avoid difficult feelings. And many experts note that it is a symptom of parentification, when a child has to take on the adult role, thereby suppressing their own needs.
Miriam Njoku, a certified Trauma Recovery Coach, sums it up best:
"When a child suffers from prolonged trauma, they live in a perpetual state of stress with no control over their life, work can become something they have control over or a means to escape their reality. They might come to believe that if they work hard enough it will bring peace in their home.”
Yep, that was me. As someone who grew up mostly without a mother, mostly without a father, in poverty, bouncing between relatives' houses and changing schools multiple times, I sought out sovereignty in the only way I knew how. Through making money.
But after a while, I couldn’t take it anymore.
Having my own Great Resignation, I slowly started to embrace Christmas as a way to wean off my workaholic tendencies. If most of the world was going to take a day off, then why shouldn’t I?
Did I decorate? No. But did I splurge on a Starbucks White Chocolate Peppermint Mocha and do some serious Netflix binging? Yes I did.
As I coated my mouth with the sweet, creamy treat and bundled up in a blanket, new sensations washed over me. It was like my spirit finally exhaled. It was so rare for me to not feel hypervigilant, goal oriented, anxious. But in that moment I was inexplicably, undeniably … safe.
And that was when my attitude started to shift.
I think for most people that come from a troubled home, there comes a point where you realize that in order to heal, you can’t simply work for a better tomorrow. The better tomorrow is already here. Instead, the priority should be giving yourself what you never had, today.
Kelly McDaniel, author of Mother Hunger, stresses that mothers provide daughters with three important developmental needs: nurturing, protection and guidance. And if any of the three is missing, an achy loneliness permeates the self-image. That loneliness is what she calls “Mother Hunger.”
This book was a real eye-opener for me. Look, I knew that my childhood was not that great. But I had no idea just how much my inner compass was warped. No wonder I didn’t know how to have those warm fuzzy holiday feelings. I didn’t know how to have warm fuzzy feelings, period.
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McDaniel shares in her book that healing “Mother Hunger” involves “thawing the frozen, innate healing process.” In my case, that meant a warm blanket and learning how to simply be comfortable doing nothing.
Though I am focusing on the mother-daughter relationship, a similar principle can be said for father-daughter, mother-son, father-son. Bottom line, when we don’t get an example of safety as children, it affects our lives until we choose to teach it to ourselves. That’s my take, anyway.
The sweet taste of coquito and normalcy.
personal photo
Now when I think of Christmas, I think of warmth. I think of rest. I think of gratitude. I also think about how nice it would have been to feel this way as a kid, and it can trigger a bit of sadness. And yet, with every holiday tradition, both big and small, I find comfort knowing that it’s never too late to reclaim those lost parts.
To me, Christmas means celebrating a recovery from numbness. And sipping coquito with my boyfriend while watching my kitties play with their toys. And I feel joy in every minute of it.
Whether or not this story resonates with you, I’m wishing you a very Merry Christmas. In these sometimes stressful, often less-than-normal times, may you find your own special way to exhale.
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The Frenchman's monologue was absolutely spot on 
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There's a reason why some people can perfectly copy accents, and others can't
Turns out, there's a neurodivergent link.
A woman in black long sleeve shirt stands in front of mirror.
Have you ever had that friend who goes on vacation for four days to London and comes back with a full-on Queen's English posh accent? "Oooh I left my brolly in the loo," they say, and you respond, "But you're from Colorado!" Well, there are reasons they (and many of us) do that, and usually it's on a pretty subconscious level.
It's called "accent mirroring," and it's actually quite common with people who are neurodivergent, particularly those with ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). According Neurolaunch, the self-described "Free Mental Health Library," "Accent mirroring, also known as accent adaptation or phonetic convergence, is the tendency to unconsciously adopt the accent or speech patterns of those around us. This linguistic chameleon effect is not unique to individuals with ADHD, but it appears to be more pronounced and frequent in this population."
Essentially, when people have conversations, we're constantly "scanning" for information—not just the words we're absorbing, but the inflection and tone. "When we hear an accent, our brains automatically analyze and categorize the phonetic features, prosody, and intonation patterns," writes Neurolaunch. For most, this does result in copying the accent of the person with whom we're speaking. But those with ADHD might be more sensitive to auditory cues. This, "coupled with a reduced ability to filter out or inhibit the impulse to mimic…could potentially explain the increased tendency for accent mirroring."
While the article explains further research is needed, they distinctly state that, "Accent mirroring in individuals with ADHD often manifests as an unconscious mimicry of accents in social situations. This can range from subtle shifts in pronunciation to more noticeable changes in intonation and speech rhythm. For example, a person with ADHD might find themselves unconsciously adopting a Southern drawl when conversing with someone from Texas, even if they’ve never lived in the South themselves."
People are having their say online. On the subreddit r/ADHDWomen, a thread began: "Taking on accents is an ADHD thing?" The OP shares, "My whole life, I've picked up accents. I, myself, never noticed, but everyone around me would be like, 'Why are you talking like that??' It could be after I watched a show or movie with an accent or after I've traveled somewhere with a different accent than my 'normal.'
They continue, "Apparently, I pick it up fast, but it fades out slowly. Today... I'm scrolling Instagram, I watch a reel from a comedian couple (Darcy and Jeremy. IYKYK) about how Darcy (ADHD) picks up accents everywhere they go. It's called ADHD Mirroring??? And it's another way of masking."
(The OP is referring to Darcy Michaels and his husband Jeremy Baer, who are both touring comedians based in Canada.)
Hundreds of people on the Reddit thread alone seem to relate. One comments, "Omfg I've done this my whole life; I'll even pick up on the pauses/spaces when I'm talking to someone who is ESL—but English is my first language lol."
Sometimes, it can be a real issue for those around the chameleon. "I accidentally mimicked a waitress's weird laugh one time. As soon as she was out of earshot, my family started to reprimand me, but I was already like 'oh my god I don’t know why I did that, I feel so bad.'"
Many commenters on TikTok were shocked to find out this can be a sign of ADHD. One jokes, "Omg, yes, at a store the cashier was talking to me and she was French. She's like 'Oh are you French too? No, I'm not lol. I'm very east coast Canada."
And some people just embrace it and make it work for them. "I mirror their words or phrase! I’m 30. I realized I start calling everyone sweetie cause my manager does & I work at coffee shop."
This article originally appeared in May.