If we have gleaned anything from the deluge of holiday movies, mass-produced decorations, and jingle bell-infused songs, it's that the popular narrative has determined Christmas is a holiday best served cold. So they say!
The bigwigs residing above the equator may have sold this idea globally, but that's only because they are without the innate knowledge we southern hemisphere folk possess: a sun-drenched Christmas is simply superior. This season is fraught enough – regardless of temperature – but at least we don't have to battle seasonal depression on top of it all.
Frosty Formative Years
And this isn't just an empty claim. I spent my entire childhood experiencing cold festive seasons. Despite my family originating in New Zealand, my father's career meant inevitable international moves. My younger years were spent in the UK and the US, meaning every December brought dark skies by 4pm and a biting chill on my cheeks. The sole silver lining? The fashion choices; layering is effortlessly chic.
In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's traditional, iconic, and the possibility of snow is truly enchanting. The cosy charm of a frosty gathering is hard to disregard. Yet, with my extended family an ocean away, I always felt I was missing out an true celebration that not even the most decadent hot chocolate could make up for.
A Move to Summer
Everything changed when another move brought my family to Australia. There, I finally experienced a proper festive family affair, joined by extended relatives for the first time. With a bigger crowd to entertain, my father got creative in the kitchen, concocting a potent vodka jelly that left everyone reeling. We slept soundly that night.
This became our tradition for years – sharing the day with family and friends, complete with playful battles across the table. That was, until my parents answered the call of a new job and moved to a notoriously chilly part of northern England.
Nostalgia's Surprise
Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I expected a wave of nostalgic longing. Instead, I found myself yearning for everything that made a summer Christmas special. Enjoying a cool drink in the sun. Feasting upon piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a short drive away. Hot-pink sunsets painting the sky. Suddenly, I was a summer celebration advocate.
"The warmth soothed the sorrow in monumental ways."
This feeling was cemented after my father passed away. My mother decided to return home to New Zealand. The first Christmas without him was profoundly difficult, his absence felt everywhere. Yet, being once again surrounded by family under the soft warmth of the summer sun helped ease the grief in monumental ways.
Conflicting Celebrations
All this said, I readily admit to being a massive hypocrite. This year, I'll be spending Christmas during winter in South Korea, and I'm truly looking forward to wander around Seoul in my warmest jacket, hoping for a snowfall. The cold Christmas propaganda still has a slight grip on me!
Nevertheless, I'm eager to return home for another New Year's Day under the Australian summer sun. Knowing my family – including a newest member – will be close by as we enter the new year fills me with a happiness my younger self always craved. Not even the fluffiest snow can hold a candle to that feeling.
