While most people are out here worrying about how to spend their holidays, I'm only ever worried about one thing—which parent do I actually spend what holiday with?
There was a point in my life when I dreaded the holidays, but most especially Christmas.
To save you the sob story, here's an abridged recap for context: My parents separated when I was in fourth grade, I stayed with my mother and her side of the family, and had no contact with my father for almost four years after he moved out. They're not on good terms and have not spoken to or seen each other after their separation (at least, not without a lawyer present). It would've been that way for my father and me, too, if not for my medical emergency in high school, which led to a forced and awkward reunion that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.
Christmases before our family was "cleaved" were typical; Just your normal, festive celebration. Christmas Eve was spent playing games with my cousins, being handed our gifts, then enjoying a bountiful feast that the adults spent the whole day preparing.
That is, until the holidays became a complicated puzzle that I have to figure out and strategically plan ahead for.
It is also why for years, I felt a mix of loathing and dread whenever the holidays rolled in. For me, it meant having to decide which side of the family I'm spending what holiday with, and making sure I can accommodate both parents and their requests. Sounds pretty easy in theory, but imagine playing a game you never really signed up for—that's what it feels like.
Celebrations with my mom are mostly spent with my stepfather and his family. If not them, then it's a simple celebration at home with my grandparents, aunts, and cousins. Without a doubt, I'd say that celebrating 'tis season is easier with them. With them, with my ma, there's no need to be self-conscious. No need for me to figure out my place.
With them, I feel most at home.
With my father, it's way more complicated. Since he used to live alone in a small apartment (just a room really, one he chose for convenience and proximity to work but not comfort), he said he used to just sleep the holidays off—he was never really one to indulge in the sentimentality of the season.
Back in college, in an attempt to get closer to him, I decided I wanted to try and spend the holidays with him again. It’s when this "either/or" situation started. That first Christmas with my papa, post-separation, was challenging. I’ve blocked out most of that day from my memory, to be honest, but I know we spent it with his siblings. But because my relationship with them was strained, I limited my movement as much as possible. I wanted to do my best to reconnect and carve a place–my place–with them there. I wanted to feel like I belong with them, too, and comforted myself with the idea that there was no need to be conscious because I'm still part of their family.
Even if it certainly didn’t feel that way for years.
Now, as an adult, I spend most Christmases with my father, while New Years' are reserved for my mom. But each year, I find that there’s still more to unpack about this curious setup.
Like how I had to teach myself to enjoy each holiday visit at my pa's without making it seem like an obligation that I’m only trying to get over with. How I have to censor myself when I'm with him and his side of the family, keeping parts of myself and my life separate from this (outdated) image they have of me. Trying to reconcile the image I have of my father from years back with this man I see now. Having to listen to my family swap stories that I was not a part of, feeling left out, and knowing he—they—lived a life that I will never be privy to and vice versa. Pretending that my mother "doesn't exist" for a few days, even if all he has to do is look at me, the spitting image of my ma, to see her. Toeing the topic of their separation on more than one occasion, only to be met with a silence so huge I broke out in cold sweat and wished I never said anything or mentioned her name.
Holidays are packaged as these festive family affairs. But for many, it's much more complicated than that. I know that mine isn't a novel experience; while we have no way of figuring out the specific percentage of divorced or separated families in the Philippines, I can say with certainty that I share this reality with many Filipino children and adults from fractured families.
I kinda wish there was a blueprint for approaching a situation like this. When the holidays don't look like your cookie-cutter, nuclear family unit beaming at the dinner table. When instead of being the "most wonderful time of the year", it’s the most stomach-turning experience of trying to get along with the family that used to intimidate you. But because there isn't a pattern to follow, and neither are there storyboards chronicling how disjointed families must act during the holidays, you're left to deal with this on your own. It hijacks your mood, leaving you with a less-than-ideal feeling to welcome the holidays with.
No wonder many of us get so anxious around this time; no wonder I do.
But my holidays have gotten lighter, I suppose. When I started becoming a permanent fixture in my father's side of the family again, the celebrations eventually stopped feeling tense. I no longer feel like a stranger. We now share stories that I'm actually included in. I'm able to enjoy myself, too, without feeling conscious.
I wouldn't say that it has backtracked to its "former glory," but I've made it work. I do my best not to resurface the "bad" memories, which are triggered by the holidays somehow, and instead, focus on creating good ones.
I wanted this when I was a teenager—to sit at the dinner table with them on Christmas Eve and feel like I really, truly belong.
And finally, I do.
