Growing up, Christmas sucked. I mean December 25 and the surrounding weeks because, to me, it wasn’t Christmas; Christmas was just a day that meant no school and all the other kids getting presents. I was just a Jewish girl who had no friends to hang out with and, chances are, broken toys (considering that for the majority of my childhood Hanukkah fell way earlier than Christmas so by the time all my friends were getting Christmas gifts, my Hanukkah gifts were worn-out old news).

Don’t get me wrong—I love being Jewish and I love Hanukkah. My favorite thing growing up was gloating to my friends about how I had eight days of toys, and they only had one. However, there is something to be said for a holiday that closes school and has been glorified in countless movies and songs. Hanukkah was fun for me, but I was taught early on that Hanukkah was basically made into what it has become to satisfy all the other Jewish children, similar to me, who whined to their parents about all the other kids getting presents when they didn’t. And while I battled with this fact—I couldn’t help but feel just a tad guilty that the only reason I was getting so many presents was not, in fact, backed by religious scripture but incurred by my parents to staunch my complaining.

Throughout the majority of middle school, I struggled with this. I know it seems a rather small issue, but as an extremely Jewish-identified girl, I felt as though I was cheating on my holiday if I couldn’t help but chime into Frank Loesser’s ever-catchy, tongue-in-cheek “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.” But, in all seriousness, a girl can only laugh at Adam Sandler’s “Hanukkah Song” so many times. I began to resent Christmas for more than a day other kids got holidays and I didn’t—the holiday became inescapable! I respect the religious significance of Christmas, but songs in every commercial from October to January and Christmas movies on virtually every channel seemed excessive. However, now that I am older and have had ample time to evaluate the holiday season, I’ve come to the conclusion that the culture of movies and songs and lights and minty candy are a thing separate from the religious experience of either Hanukkah or Christmas and to enjoy this aspect of the culture is as much an aspect of American culture as apple pie or Fourth of July.

Christmas culture has become a culture of the season. This is not to delegitimize the religious significance of Christmas but rather to enjoy the positivity surrounding the holiday for the simple excitement it spurs during such dreary, cold and stressful times: finals week. Coming back from Thanksgiving and being thrown into finals is hard. After a small reprieve stuffed with family and food, the transition into finals week is not easily conquered, and a bit of holiday spirit is necessary. Whether it be peppermint in my hot chocolate or Bing Crosby’s Christmas album, enjoying the warmth and anticipation “Christmas culture” induces by no means makes me any less Jewish, but rather, adds to my own excitement about my own traditions. As ironic as it is, Hanukkah and Christmas cultures have become endlessly intertwined for me, and listening to “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” invites dreamy nostalgia for latkes, sufganiyot, and shiny magen david wrapping paper rather than anything to do with Christmas itself. Maybe this can be seen as holiday hijack, but I see it as sharing in that brotherly celebratory spirit, necessary to withstand the brunt of dreaded Finals Week.