The Incredibly Optimistic Reason I Refuse to Nurture the Coupled Holiday Fantasy Anymore

To everyone entering the holiday season still single.

It’s truth time.

Every year, there’s a little part of me that nurtures the same holiday fantasy. I’m in a healthy relationship — this is the part where I should know it’s a fantasy and just wake up, but I don’t. We’re doing holiday things together. You know — walking through holiday light displays while sipping hot chocolate and holding hands or going on a weekend getaway to somewhere festive. Maybe we’re curled up together by a fire reading while the tree twinkles in the background. We exchange thoughtful gifts, but mostly, we make magical memories.

There might even be matching pajamas somewhere in the mix.

But the real truth is that this has never happened. Not once. I was married for nearly a dozen years, and I never once got the holiday fantasy. None of my other relationships managed to show up for the holidays either. It’s always been just me — wanting desperately to share that holiday experience and failing to find partners who wanted that with me.

This year, I’m giving up the coupled holiday fantasy, but it’s not for some dark and depressing reason. The reason is incredibly optimistic. Here’s my reasoning: I don’t want to dwell on a fantasy that is unlikely to happen this year. We might be in an active cuffing season, but if I’m entirely honest, it’s hard for me to connect. It’s one part incompatible potential partners out there and one part fear that I will find someone great, which increases the likelihood that I can be hurt again.

There’s a certain lonely safety in staying single, but I know if I keep protecting my heart, I’ll only lose out on love in the end.

But that’s not the reason I’m giving up the coupled fantasy this year. Don’t get me wrong: It’s a pretty dream set to a backdrop of twinkling lights. I’ve always wanted those snow globe moments, and for a long time, I was angry that I kept choosing partners who withheld them. But then I think of the many magical holiday seasons I’ve pulled off on my own as a single parent. They count, too.

I stop focusing on what I don’t have and look at what I’ve got. Two children who adore the holiday season and still believe in magic. A happy dog and two cuddling kittens who will share in the joy. A fully decorated tree that I put up on my own and can take down just as easily by myself when the season ends. I have a house filled with love, one I bought on my own. I can see holiday lights with my children while we nurse hot chocolates and celebrate the season. There are friends to see and family to spend time with, and if I’m the only single person in the mix, at least I’m not spending the holidays in an unhappy relationship.

The holiday coupled-up fantasy is nice. It’s a freeze-frame of a Hallmark movie, and I live in a Hallmark-style small town. It would be nice to think that this could be more than a dream for me, but the problem with being single is that we can get stuck on what we don’t have and forget what we do. I don’t need that resentment, bitterness, or sadness in the holiday mix. If I want to be anxious, I can stroll the local grocery aisles and suffer from sticker shock at the prices.

I’m not giving up on meeting someone or dating. What I am doing is accepting my current reality. I’m going to embrace this moment because clinging to a fantasy might help for a night or two, but then it becomes something to long for, feel disappointed about, and eventually resent not having. That’s not the holiday spirit I want to be in this year.

Every year that goes by with no coupled Christmas, I’m afraid I become more guarded with my heart.

While some kids grow older believing a little less each year in Santa Claus, I fear that I’m growing older believing a little less in the idea that love will find me, that I’ll find it, or that it’s out there at all. That’s why it’s dangerous for me to nurture a fantasy of what I don’t have. Instead of making me believe it’s possible, I only ever see it as a dream — unobtainable, fading away as I wake.

I’m the kind of dreamer who has always had a plan. But I can’t force my plan on the Universe. I can’t make anyone fall in love with me. I can’t make all my holiday dreams come true. In the absence of a plan, I need to put aside the fantasy and create a new plan. I need to be able to wake up and find joy in what’s real, and I can’t do that when I’m secretly disappointed that another year will go by when I don’t get what I really want for Christmas, and it’s the one thing I can’t get for myself.

So, I put it away. I let it go. No one else can manage my hopes and expectations but me. I step into my power in order to dream a new dream. There are fewer baubles on the tree because there are curious kittens in my home. The lights twinkle away while I read, but I’m not cozied up with anyone but my dog. I watch holiday movies with my kids, and we sing out loud in the car on our way to see the lights on display in my very Hallmark town. Anything else but this fades, and I am grateful.

This is real. It’s not the perfect romance movie moment. It’s my life with all its courage and chaos. I am creating beautiful holiday memories for my children, and I remind myself that it’s a strength that I’m capable of doing it alone.

I’m not walking away from the fantasy with bitterness or sadness. I’m putting it to rest because there is real joy in my life that I could miss if I’m busy meditating on what I think I should have and don’t. There’s something beautifully optimistic about finding gratitude and joy in the reality of our lives — even with soaring grocery prices and a fractured, hurting world. To choose to embrace the magic of the holidays, the real magic instead of a fantasy is a wonderful way to live.

So, I won’t be wondering about any Christmas tree farms in hopes of a single dad who needs help finding the perfect tree. I won’t be holding my breath or keeping my fingers crossed that my holiday plans will include a plus-one. Because I’m embracing the real joy I’m finding in my life, I find that I don’t actually mind. There’s not an empty space in my life. There is just this beautiful, wonderful, extraordinary, amazing existence. I can choose to ruminate over the fantasy, or I can focus on the genuine love and joy in my life — and savor it.

I put the snow globe fantasy away. I warm my hands on a mug filled with hot chocolate while music plays softly in the background. The tree is filled with lights that dance across my son’s face while he plays his video game. My daughter walks down the hall in holiday pajamas as she chats with her friends. The kittens play in the hall while my dog snoozes softly at my side. I let the peaceful moment fill me up. It’s enough.