I wouldn’t call myself a Grinch. I don’t care that you enjoy the holidays. As a matter of fact, I hope you do! I don’t want to cancel Christmas or snuff out your menorah. I just don’t want to trim the tree or spin the dreidel. And please don’t make me go to your family’s house to celebrate.

I wasn’t always this way. I used to love my town in the winter. All the lights that would glow from the lamp posts along the street. Beautiful window displays. Attempting to ice skate. My father loved to overcrowd the lawn with different holiday scenes. My mother would enjoy watching It’s "A Wonderful Life every year."

The holidays are a time for gathering. People travel thousands of miles to see loved ones and to be together. I used to go from Christmas party to Christmas party where there were ten different kinds of desserts and those people that you’re somehow related to, but you’re not sure how because you only see them at Christmas.

Nowadays, large family gatherings make me uncomfortable. It’s usually not my family, for one. I haven’t been at a large family gathering made up of my own family in over ten years. And every year it seems that my family circle grows smaller and smaller. I don’t know how to act when I’m in situations like that now. All I know how to do is play with the family dog or crawl on the floor with small children. Basically, the things I would do at my family parties all those years ago. I don’t fit it, and I’m okay with that. Please don’t make me small talk with your sister’s boyfriend’s friend’s mom about the weather and what I’m up to these days.

It’s a weird feeling watching your family traditions slip away year after year. But not as weird as crashing someone else’s traditions. December 25th is the same to me at January 25th. Midnight on New Year’s Eve is just another night of me binge watching late night talk shows. You would think it’s kind of freeing. I’m not tied down to go anywhere or do anything for the holidays. I can wear sweatpants and watch 24 hours of A "Christmas Story" or go out anywhere. Except you remember that everything is already closed and all your friends are on their way to their aunt’s house.

The holidays are also so uncomfortable because there’s this pressure to be attached to someone. They always make you aware at how available you are. I like to blame it on the songs. Have you ever really listened to these holiday songs? They are so depressing. Then there are the commercials about engagement rings and other jewelry that your significant other is suppose to gift to you. Airwaves are clogged with sappy romance movies on Lifetime and the Hallmark channel, constantly telling the same storyline of a silly problem that ends up being solved by the main character after seeing the light of Christmas. She always ends up getting with the hot lawyer that was an ass in the beginning of the movie too.

All of those are reasons that the holidays make me uncomfortable, but what really makes me uncomfortable is other people’s pity. Whenever I say I don’t have plans or that the holidays aren’t a big deal for me, they are the ones that make it such a big deal. I’m okay with the holidays being just another day. It’s so much less stressful for one thing. I’m never waking up at 4AM to get the best price on a laptop on Black Friday. I’d rather be sleeping in my bed. I’m not going to kiss a stranger at midnight or be the girl that gets hyped over drinking eggnog (mostly because it’s gross, but you get the point). Besides, there are more important holidays to be excited about. After all, there are only 55 days until my birthday, but who’s counting?