I Don't Want My Parents To Read This.com

The year’s 11th month had swiftly come and gone. Now, the 12th month was upon us, and with it, a new dawn.   

Some hung their stockings, others sang with cheer, but somewhere in the shadows a more sinister practice lurked, waiting to appear. 

As children swayed with dance, mothers ironed shirts. The dreaded time was on its way, a time of ties and skirts. 

Kicking and screaming, we’d soon be on our way. “Turn that frown upside-down!!” is what they were soon to say. 

Dad grabbed the tripod, Mom dragged us to the yard; 

It was time to take the family photo for the annual Christmas card. 

The other day, my mother and I sat together in the living room. One minute, she was sitting with furrowed brows, fussing at her computer. The next minute, she and my father were pulling out suits and ties and dresses, and then dragging the rest of my family and me to the tree. Then came the yelling, “We need a tripod!” “You need better shoes!” “Don’t cry now, you’ll look bad in the photo!” 

For my brothers and me, no explanation of the pandemonium was needed; my parents were trying to take a family photo for our annual Christmas card, and they were making both themselves and everyone around them horribly miserable while they did it. After 38 minutes of fuss (I counted), with sour attitudes and sore cheeks, we smiled for our 17th photo and finally got one that “would just have to do the job”. Later, as my mother sat constructing the card, I asked her, “Did we really have no other family photos from this year?” She replied by explaining that, of course, we did, but they were all “ just too real”. Then she proceeded to show me pictures of my family’s smiling faces on mountain tops, and on beaches and road trips. In the photos she showed me, I saw genuine joy, and a family that was proud to capture some of their happiest moments. My mother, on the other hand, saw photos in which we were sweaty, mangled, and messy. In short, she saw photos that weren’t perfect. And without a perfect photo, she couldn’t prove to herself, or anyone else, that she or her family was perfect. And of course, without the perfect photo of a perfect family, how could she possibly spread the holiday cheer?

Please let it be known that I am not the Grinch. I do not inherently disagree with the concept of holiday cards. I actually find the original intended sentiment to be quite endearing. The first cards originated in Europe and started as a way for people to let their closest friends and family know they were being thought of and prayed for during this holiday season. And who doesn’t want to be thought of and prayed for? I do, however, have a few issues with the current practice of Christmas cards. 

We send holiday cards to the people in our lives to show that we care about them and that we value the relationships we’ve built with them. We want them to feel loved and appreciated. 

But, hold on. 

These are some of the people we care about most, people we are closest to, and yet, we cannot send to them photos in which we are genuinely happy and having a good time all because we don’t look like our best selves? Maybe you could make the argument that you’d like to send to them a “nice” and “presentable” photo. But if you’re anything like my mother, the true intention is to present a photo in which you, your family, and the life you’re living looks almost too good to be true. And while yes, the people we send these cards to are most often people we love, the reality is that we are not presenting ourselves in that way because we care about them; we are doing it because we care about how we look to them, and how they perceive us. Because the people who love us most do not care about if your family is in matching pajamas with hair perfectly curled, they care that you are happy, and that you want for them to be happy too. They do not care if you’re thinking about them with sweat dripping down your face on a hike, or a fish in hand; they simply care that you are actually thinking about them. Even consider your own emotions when opening your holiday cards. I personally feel much more elated to see a photo of someone I love looking genuinely happy and excited, even if they look a little messy,  rather than looking like a cardstock image, and I’m willing to bet that many others feel the same way. 

So this holiday season, don’t send a staged photo, send a genuine one. There is no need to present yourself as perfect, because the people you love already know you’re not actually perfect, and yet they love you anyway. And don’t be afraid to get personal. Send a nice, heartfelt message, send photos of you all together, and send photos of genuine happiness and contentment, despite how you may look. It is much more important to have a photo that isn’t “perfect” with people who are actually happy as opposed to a photo that appears perfect, but in reality, the people in the photo are miserable in taking it. And remember that this card is for them, not you; and for the sake of your relationship with them, and not your reputation. You do not have to be perfect to care about others or to show them that you care. Instead, make an honest and personal effort to say I love you, and I’m thinking of you. And with that, I think you’ll find that the Holiday cheer just a little bit easier to share. 

Now, as a wise man once said, “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”