The Christmas Tree.

This year participating in Christmas feels necessary. I want to make the effort. I am married now. This is the beginning of my new family with my husband. He is the family I have always craved. Just him. Just me. Just us. When I was child, Christmas never lived up to what I hoped it would. I have always longed for a day when I would be apart of my new family. This is our first Christmas as a married couple. I am completely cognitive of the fact that Christmas does not mean trees, lights, flowers, glitter, presents and decorations. This doesn't change the fact that my heart needs them. They were taken away from me: ripped from my experience too early. Christmas died for me as a young child. It became a time of isolation, sadness and broken memories. I was too young for them to take Christmas. There are no lasting traditions; there is no consistency. Some people have celebrated each year together as a family. For me, the fact that I want a Christmas tree, I want to put up lights, and I want to make my home feel like Christmas has nothing to do with what I truly know about Christmas. I know this is a day for celebrating the birth of my Savior. We are celebrating Him. The world gets in the way; the world forgets. I want to start a family with my husband and start our own traditions. I am a smart woman. These emotions have nothing to do with what I know Christmas to be. I am making an attempt to allow my heart to heal. I am making an attempt to have good feelings about holidays. This is excruciating. You weren't there when I cried alone on Christmas Eve when everyone suffered silently in my mother's house. You weren't there when there were no gifts because no one cared enough to pick out something small. You weren't there when no one had time for me. You weren't there when I watched my friends' families celebrate as I went home to quiet. You weren't there when I set up the tree by myself. You weren't there when I was told that if I wanted Christmas, I should decorate. You weren't there when I would pull out my tiny Christmas tree and ornaments to decorate the drab existence of my solitude: my room. You weren't there when my dad never called. You weren't there when other kids who had divorced parents got two Christmas'. You weren't there when I wrapped gifts for my family, even if they never knew how much I craved their love. You weren't there when I cried myself to sleep. You weren't there when I woke up and wished I could be excited, but had to stop myself because I knew it was useless. You weren't there when I missed the few traditions that I could remember. You weren't there when I wished that I had a family. You weren't there when everything good turned to everything bad. You weren't there. This is why I am attempting to start anew. This is why I want a tree. This is why I want to decorate cookies. This is why I want to go look at Christmas Lights. This is why. Christmas is about Jesus and His birth. I have been alone too many years. This year I have a loving husband. People don't see my deepest needs; I do not speak them. I need to surround myself with small things that make me feel safe. The celebration of the birth of Jesus is what I care most about. It is important for me to be able to enjoy holidays again. People who enjoy holidays are loved and supported. I need to be loved and supported. I have put up our Christmas Tree. It looks like any other tree, but to me it means so much more. It means a new beginning, it means comfort, and it means truth in love. My broken days are not mended, but these are new memories, and I am going to make them.