This post is also available as a podcast here: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/s-p01/episodes/December-e2djs3g

Welcome to the last month of 2023. This is a time of reflection as the end of the year draws near, but for me: Sara Bareilles’ song “December” just plays over and over again in my head. December has always been a “problem child” for me, too. It marks the most depressing month of the year for me. I know I’m not alone in that. My family celebrated Christmas, but it was a bit of a dark holiday in my home. The year before I was born, my dad’s mother passed away on Christmas morning. She loved Christmas, apparently. It was a big holiday in their home, but it wasn’t like that for me. Christmas was a day that was filled with complex emotions and rarely joy.

I’m lucky that I haven’t lost a parent. My dad was very close with his mother, but he also felt betrayed by her. His views of women were forever affected by that relationship. I imagine having a daughter caused him many complex emotions that he didn’t fully understand. I think it’s part of the reason that we had a great relationship when I was little, but it all fell apart as I became more obviously female. This is something I understand because I feel similarly about men.

I learned through therapy that my father repeated the patterns from his childhood with me. I learned that his rearing resulted in his dysfunction and that when he carried it forward with me – I had to take conscious effort to stop myself from continuing that familial trauma. I was terrified at the thought of having a son. Men have not been good to me; how could I raise a man? How could I trust a man, even one I raised? It seems inevitable that I will be rejected and abused by my child. Those are some of my negative thoughts. I know that all I can do is my best; I will do my best to raise a son that is the best man he can be.

December is hard because it’s dark. The reduced hours of sunlight, the cold air, the upcoming holidays, and all of it comes with a sadness. The sun makes me feel alive (I love summer!) The cold temperatures make me want to hibernate, and holidays are… complicated. I’m someone who is rarely angry; my spurts of anger are short-lived and always followed by sadness. I recognize within myself that when something makes me angry it’s usually due to a cost or pain that I suffer. However, through long practice of actively working to prevent myself from harming others through my pain, I make the switch quite quickly from anger to sadness at the suffering. Through all my people-pleasing, I do not stay mad nor do I blame others, but I do cry at the suffering I experience. I find peace with the pain and I find a way forward.

I have always wanted December to be brighter. I stopped visiting my dad in December about 16 years ago, and it genuinely made this month easier. December is hard for him, so as an empath, being around him made it even more difficult for me. I was with someone who loved December, and it gave me a smile because – maybe their joy could brighten my darkest month? The way that my friends’ love of snow makes me smile even though I don’t love it. Perhaps their joy is the key to me making peace with December? (It’s not on them, it’s on me – I like seeing things through others’ eyes.) Time will tell. As I write this, they are in my life, but come December? Time will tell, it always does.

This week I will tell you about some advice from my childhood…

There’s a lot of context to this story, so bear with me. My dad lost 70% of his high-note hearing before I was born, and about 30% of his low-note hearing. I was a young, female child, so my voice was always in the higher range. The good news is that it helped me learn how to enunciate and project my voice from an early age, and that helped me out with theatre. So, the background for this advice is based on how that happened.

The generations are all so different in how we treat these things, but in my dad’s childhood, the access to doctors was a bit different than it is today. My dad got a lot of ear infections as a child, and those are the assumed cause of his hearing loss. The ear infections came with each illness he had, or so he seems to recall. His mother didn’t take him to the doctor until he recovered from these illnesses. Thus, the damage was likely done due to prolonged ear infections that did not undergo treatment. He spent his childhood isolated due to this hearing loss; it is probably the greatest hardship he’s carried through his life.

Thus, there was advice that he gave me early on and he insisted upon throughout my childhood: Don’t go to bed with your hair wet. Today, this advice is unnecessary. However, I do have the same weakness in my ears that he did. I still get ear infections easily. I wear large earmuffs in winter, not just as a fashion statement, but also because without them: I get an ear infection. I’ve been told by doctors and well-meaning friends that it’s impossible for me to get an ear infection without some underlying bacterial infection. Perhaps that’s true, but even if it is: that means I have chronic bacterial issues in my ears? I don’t know.

He was, to some extent, correct. I needed to be careful. I got many ear infections growing up. I kept getting them in college until I started the practice of wearing earmuffs in winter. If the weather drops below 60 degrees Fahrenheit… earmuffs! That’s me. I don’t care who thinks I’m ridiculous anymore. I would rather get weird looks and comments than ANOTHER ear infection. Some people love them, so it helps me find like-minded people, too. Honestly, though, I go to bed with my hair wet. Cold air is the main cause of my infections, not wet hair. So, I must insist on a warm home in the winter, but I can shower before bed without issues. I’m grateful for that.

One thing that makes December enjoyable for me is: earmuff season! I hope there’s something to lighten your December this year.

Love, light, and warmth, -S.