It’s Christmas Eve Eve, while scrolling on social media today I’ve been seeing some early Christmas gift hauls. I truly haven’t felt jealous of hauls before, especially considering I normally wouldn’t ask for the gifts I see circulating. While watching a girl talk about her new purse, I felt myself getting upset, not at the fact that she got the gifts, but at the way her gifts were so personalized. I know she and the rest of the girls might have had every single thing explicitly listed in their letter to Santa, but some of them also made it a point that their gift was something specifically picked out for them by their parents. I’ve actually always felt weird asking for gifts in any scenario and I’ve gotten better at it but it has usually led to my own disappointment. Not because I don’t get what I asked for, but because gifts tend to reveal how much someone understands you. Now I feel like my focus had to shift from learning how to ask for things to learning how to not let it hurt my feelings when people (accidentally) make it clear that they don't know me.
I know Christmas gifts aren’t that serious. But I can’t help but feel the biggest pang in my chest when I realize a random co-worker’s secret Santa gift to me is somehow more in line with who I am than the gifts I’ve received from my immediate family. Now, I’m aware some people are hard to impress and I know there seems to always be a disconnect between young people and their parents. I feel like I should clarify that gifts aren't the only scenario in which my parents have shown me their surprisingly incorrect perceptions of me but there's just something about the holiday season that makes me feel even sadder when I realize that all of my years of guarding myself not only worked a bit too well, but that it also might be too late to go back now. I’m guilty of never knowing what to say when my mother asks me what I want in any case, so I’ve been trying my best to answer honestly. Somehow, this ends up making me feel even worse. At least before she was doing her best with minimal information. But how am I supposed to feel when I describe my exact preferences and I’m met with the literal opposite.
After watching these girls go on about how they are known so well, I reflected on my Christmas last year. I wanted my own gel polishes for Christmas since I had just gotten into doing my nails. Naturally, my mom followed up that request by wondering what colors I would like. I appreciated the question because I’ve never been one to be really picky with gifts because it felt selfish, but again, I was trying to help her get to know my taste. I explained: my favorite colors are pastel colors but I also like darker shades (like a navy or wine red). I added, the only colors I don’t like are really bright colors since I feel like it’s too much for me. The truth is, I’ve always felt insecure about my hands so while I like painting them, I don’t necessarily want to draw attention to them. So the day came, I opened my gift and I saw everything I’d need to do my nails without having to borrow all of her things. I love it! My mom asks “Do you like the colors?” I hadn’t looked at them yet so I took them out one by one, a bright blue, a purple-ish pink, a silver sparkle, and the most shocking, hot pink. My heart legitimately sank. I feel silly talking about it and I felt silly in the moment because it’s just nail polish. But even now I can’t help but feel sad.
Was it so hard to understand me that explaining myself wasn’t enough? Was I not clear? Does she care? I of course didn’t say anything besides a quick comment after making sure to share my genuine gratefulness for any gift I received regarding the hot pink polish along the lines of “I’m not sure how much I’ll be using this one.” My mom ended up telling me she would just take whichever colors I didn’t like - which if I was honest, would be all except for the sparkly one, but I kept everything besides the hot pink. And in case you were wondering, my favorite color is purple - which apparently my dad didn't know until recently. All this to say, that was one example where I realized my parents don’t know me as well as I assumed they had. Which is partially my own fault for not sharing enough with them, but I was never really raised to be a sharer anyways so it’s a habit at this point. We’ll see how Christmas goes this year, and we’ll see if in the new year I’ll learn to get over my post-gift-reviving-blues or get my parents to understand me, which at this point might be a Christmas miracle.