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I Love your family. Really and truly I do. I’m one of those incredibly lucky/charming people with whom it’s a pleasure to spend time, rather than a task to be endured through gnashing of teeth. My mother – known as “The Smoo” for spurious reasons long lost in the mists of time – is a delight. Her husband is a perfect host, never lets her Liquor The glass gets down to an inch of vouvray before sloshing in a generous top up. My nieces are playful and hilarious, my brother-in-law is a master of engaging conversation and my sister is, simply put, the best person ever.
But no matter how great one’s family is, it is always difficult to celebrate Christmas as an unmarried person, child free Adults in the mix. No one exploits me, and yet it’s almost impossible not to feel like a spare part. Without the traditional attractions of adulthood to my name – a long-term partner, dependents, my own nuclear family – I’ve always had to stick around to other people’s plans, pretending to fit in with the festive schedule of “proper” adults. That means eating Christmas dinner in a gloomy, convention center-type setting on my stepbrother’s orders, spending it at my brother-in-law’s parents’ house, and being squeezed into my step-sister’s oversubscribed table at the last minute.
Every year of my life, except two – one spent at a ski resort as a 21-year-old leisure rep, the other with an ex’s family – I’ve been the proverbial odd(woman) man out.
I know, I know: I’m incredibly lucky that my extended family are willing to make room for me at the inn, especially considering that according to analysis from home care provider Noble Live-in Care, around 11 percent of the UK population will spend Christmas Day alone this year. But, though it’s no one’s fault or intent, during Christmas when my sister visits her in-laws and it’s my turn to host my stepfather’s kids, I essentially turn from a person to a problem that has to be solved. “What will we do with Helen this year?” Is this the unspoken question looming over my head? This is the character of the spinster or bachelor of this parish: to be a piece of lost luggage, carried from place to place and thrown away wherever there is space.
This is in stark contrast to the rest of my adult life where I have a real sense of agency. For whatever reason, this is the only time when advocating for myself — admitting that I have my own preferences for how to spend the holidays — triggers an instant sense of guilt. When you don’t have an excuse to lean on a significant other, sometimes, expressing a desire to do your own thing somehow feels inherently selfish.
I’m definitely not alone in this. According to new research from Tesco Mobile, 57 per cent of people will not be able to spend the festive period in their ideal way due to being forced to make compromises due to different family circumstances. Meanwhile, a YouGov poll he got it family stress It was the worst element of Christmas for four per cent of Britons. And one of the classic threads of the old (pre-Elon days) Twitter was “Does the duvet know it’s Christmas?” – a hashtag where older adults would post the weird and wonderful sleeping arrangements they were given when they moved back home with their parents. These were shared largely by single people: camp beds under the piano, inflatable mattresses surrounded by gym equipment, bunk beds with Iron Man bedding. You get the picture.
Now, after 38 years of diplomacy and dancing around the topic, I’ve finally decided to “take back control” of my 2025 Christmas, Brexit-style. I was going to let go of the guilt and do what I Wanted a change, planning a very adult “Friendsmas” with two other single, child-free queens.
Even as an unmarried woman, taking this decision seemed a strangely radical step. I prepared myself for the conversation with my immediate family with the seriousness usually reserved for disclosing a terminal diagnosis, worrying about how to deliver the news (in person? over the phone?), how many of my bullet-pointed reasons I should share, and bracing myself for tears and accusations or passive-aggressive “I’m fine.”
As is often the case in life, my concerns were completely unfounded. When I told my mom that my friends and I had booked a gorgeous looking house margatecomplete with sauna And the outdoor rolltop bathtub, she immediately said, sounded like a wonderful plan. My sister became emotional, but only because she felt that I had had to carry the burden for so long, forced out of a sense of duty to conform to what everyone else was doing. If anything, could it be a relief? This isn’t surprising when you consider that according to a recent survey by Sainsbury’s, almost half of us (47 percent) feel pressure to host the “perfect” Christmas (no matter what that is).
Once the cat was out of the bag and I could relax, I realized I had rarely experienced such liberation.
Once the cat was out of the bag and I could relax, I realized I had rarely experienced such liberation. Freed from the immovable weight of expectations, constraints, or family tradition, our trio began planning veracity Perfect Christmas. Can we go out to the pub on Christmas Eve and then eat a whole baked Camembert in front of the TV? Absolutely! Can we get matching pajamas with the leotard wearing a Santa hat, including a pair for Kenny the dog, and posing for a kitsch “family” portrait? Why not! Can we eat almond croissants for breakfast, play a variety of board games, see really love And drink Chapel Down sparkling wine from morning till night? hell yeah!
Each of us added priorities and brought our own traditions, placing them reverently on the altar of this newly created holiday. Carols from Kings; A small present to open on Christmas Eve; A Boxing Day Dip. Anything and everything was possible. Nothing was rigid or set in stone because “we’ve always done it that way”. I haven’t felt such anticipation before December 25th since I was a kid.
If you’re reading this with envy, allow me to enlighten you: You can do whatever you want, too. It’s your day too – even if you haven’t yet found a romantic partner or provided the expected grandchildren. Nor is it selfish to free oneself from bondage and put oneself first.
So why not give yourself the gift of a fun, adult Friends Month? This is probably the best Christmas gift you’ve ever received.