1. Loving my family as they are
“I grew up super Catholic, so Christmas was very church-centric until I was a teen and stopped subscribing to Catholicism. But I owe credit to my mum and dad and the rest of my family: everybody’s very relaxed about religious and spiritual beliefs, so the focus has shifted from The Birth of Our Lord (TM) to hanging out and eating food and respecting whether someone wants to go to church after dinner or would rather fall asleep in front of Die Hard. So for me, Christmas as a grown-ass woman has been the result of years of unlearning religious-based traditions and prioritizing time with my family instead. Which hasn’t been difficult, actually, since the older I’ve gotten, the more I realize I actually really like them as people. Bless us, everyone.” —Anne T. Donahue
2. Finding kinship in friends
“As a Muslim who grew up in California, the only communal celebrations I knew were ones I couldn’t participate in. So I always associated the scent of pine trees and the twinkle of holiday lights with a kind of belonging I wasn’t included in. But lately I’ve come to appreciate this time of year as my own kind of secular holiday. My biological family doesn’t celebrate Christmas, but my chosen family does—my friends, who surround me with love and bring light into my life. Perhaps there’s an America that doesn’t want me, but in the embrace of my friends, in the glow of a flickering fire and holiday lights, I feel a kinship I thought I’d never find, and it allows me, however superficially, to participate in a tradition I once thought foreign.”—Tasbeeh Herwes
3. In awe of all systems of belief
“I joke that I’m a ‘Secret Muslim,’ which means I was raised with Muslim culture, but by Iranian parents who had long abandoned a Muslim practice. I’ve never known how to navigate any religious holiday—my belief in God is a shape-shifting one and sometimes downright nonexistent. Just this week we watched Ankara, Zurich, and Berlin face deep tragedy because of some people who use God to justify their slaughter. I feel my depression deeply. Faith has been degraded so much in the Western world. So while I don’t participate in any tradition at this time of the year, I feel very protective of those who do, and the love and care that informs their rituals. I hope we can protect that and realize it is not a threat to progress.”—Porochista Khakpour
4. Playing my Diwali/Christmas EP
“I grew up in a Hindu home where my parents observed both Diwali and Christmas under pressure—the pressure of maintaining our traditions in Canada while also labouring to fit in. Consequently, as an adult, the holiday season carries a reminder of obligation and unbelonging, while also offering warmth and reflection that carries me through the plunging cold of winter, especially in January. These dualities where the inspirations behind my Diwali/Christmas EP: All of the Lights. —Vivek Shraya
5. Creating my own agenda
“I grew up as a Jehovah’s Witness, so that meant no birthdays or holiday festivities whatsoever. It was isolating growing up that way, with no other family traditions to make up for it. I left the church four years ago and now identify as agnostic/atheist. I’ve become more of an observer of my friends and how they celebrate the holidays. For now, I’m not really celebrating. I’m spending time learning about cultures and customs specific to where my people come from in Africa. It’s my hope that one day I can celebrate with my children.” —ShiShi Rose
6. The tests of my faith
“I was an imaginative, creative child, and being raised as a Catholic suited me in many ways. It was a mystical religion, full of divine inspiration and miracles and magical occurrences. But it became increasingly clear to me that the values the church espoused did not align with my own. It was deeply patriarchal, often misogynistic, homophobic. So I left. Most of the time I don’t miss the church, but I do feel a twinge of sadness on Christmas morning. I watch my parents leave the house to attend mass in their best clothes, and I envy them. I know what it will be like: the hushed Church, the bundles of ivy, the smell of incense, the shaking hands with neighbours and friends, mouthing Merry Christmas to one another. The sense of community, of belonging. There’s a part of me that feels as if Christmas has become less important, less sacred, because I don’t attend mass anymore.”—Louise O’Neill
7. Cinematic magic — with a dose of reality
“As a Jew with little family and a predisposition towards melancholy, I’m always surprised by how cheering I find the holiday season to be. As a rule, I go to the movies, unburdened and serene. The first movie I attended on Christmas was Stepmom (1998) at the Cineplex Sheppard Grande, a cinema that no longer exists. In 2001, I saw Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone at a theatre that collapsed two years later, killing one and injuring 14. This is not to say that I’m somehow responsible for the demise of these two theatres, but there’s a comforting tension between the constancy of movies at Christmas and the unavoidable slide towards entropy. If I have faith in anything, it might be this.”—Naomi Skwarna
8. In charge of my own circle of warmth
“This is the first year I won’t be returning to my hometown for the holidays. A part of me is nervous, but another is calm knowing that I feel less obligated to any commitment other than to myself. Although I grew up in a Muslim household, I’ve never felt as connected to the faith as my parents probably hoped I would be. Instead, I’ve given myself the space to explore alternative spiritual paths. I’ve just realized that it’s my responsibility to create my own traditions and build my own circle of warmth in this time of year.” —Shaya Ishaq
9. Hymns and prayerful longing
“In the past I have celebrated Christmas exuberantly, publicly and unapologetically, because I believe that a faith that began wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger but grew into the promises of a Prince of Peace and a Light of the World is a faith worth hoping for—even if our pagan tree rituals and consumerist reflexes poorly represent it. But this Christmas, I find myself drained of the hope that once imbued with light a mind often susceptible to shadows, and instead I’m drawn to the prayerful longing of selected hymns more than the cheerful worship of others.
O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death’s dark shadows put to flight”
—Alana Massey
10. When remembering means longing for past celebrations
“I come from a devout Hindu family, but I have very fond Christmas memories. There are photos of my cousin and me at our nursery school in the U.K. participating in a nativity play; I was Mary, and he was one of the Wise Men. After moving to Canada, my parents leaned even more into Christmas celebrations — the tree, a roast dinner, stocking stuffers, presents, everything. It wasn’t about assimilation. My mom and dad had both left large sets of siblings behind in England, so celebrating Christmas with extended family here meant putting down roots in a new place. A family rift means this gathering hasn’t happened for almost a decade, and it makes the holidays kind of a sad time for me. Not because my parents and their relatives haven’t patched things up—that’s their business—but because a precious new tradition that made Canada feel like home is gone.”—Anupa Mistry
11. Building my own traditions
“I am Muslim and don’t participate in Christmas in any traditional sense. Growing up, my dad worked the overnight cleaning shift at a restaurant. We had a tradition on Christmas Eve where he’d bring my sister and me to his work, and there’d sometimes be people of Hindu or Sikh faiths not celebrating Christmas as well. So when kids our age were at home waiting for Santa Claus, my sis and I were running through this restaurant’s aisles playing hide and seek. While many of us feel like we’re often forgotten from mainstream narratives, I think it’s beautiful that we use these opportunities to build our own diasporic traditions.”—Nafisa Kaptowala
12. Finding love outside my family
“During the holiday season I tend to distance myself from my not-so-accepting family and surround myself with my chosen one. I’m not sure how to define my faith, but I consider myself a person of many beliefs. I find comfort when I am basking in warm, honest and free energies of love.” —Gyu Gyal
13. It’s a juggling act
“I’m mixed race and Muslim, so normally I see my white mother over the break, as Christmas is a time she enjoys celebrating in a non-religious way. I also make an effort to see my father and brother and sisters, as it’s school holidays, as well as spend time with my partner’s family, who celebrate Christmas. I find that I don’t centre on faith during this time—I just see it as a chance to catch up with family and reflect on the year.” —Sahra Tohow
14. Yearning to celebrate without fear
“I think back to the fear my community felt when we thought Eid al-Fitr was going to fall on September 11th this year—that our holy day would be somehow be mistaken as a celebration of bloodshed. It’s December now, and in the bright cold I am surrounded by my neighbours’ unselfconscious coloured lights and tinsel. They’ve never had to quiet their celebrating for fear of it being misunderstood.” —Safia Elhillo
15. The weather just really sucks
“This time of year always brings up questions around self-care, because the winter season always triggers depression for me. It gets darker quicker, there’s less contact with the sun, and we’re hiding indoors all day. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, this nation becomes rooted in the theme of family and being together with loved ones. But for those of us who don’t celebrate these holidays, it’s really just a couple of months of crappy weather. (Also: Christmas might be the most boring day of year for Muslims. Just saying.)”—Huda Hassan
16. Comfort food that does more than just comfort
“As a mystic with a devout Christian family, I find the holidays at once comforting and taxing—the season brings with it all the familiar elements of my childhood, as well as reminders of the chasm between myself and those who raised me. But we’re brought together by traditional Latin American songs and comfort food from our home country of Colombia, so everything somehow turns out okay.”—Dre Cardoza
17. Celebrating the everyday
“I’ve really detached myself from all the holidays. Personally, I try and check in with my higher self every day, so I’m connected with my purpose and with serving the world. These days I’m definitely trying to slow down my breathing and vibrate from a place of peace, because there are a lot of extremes flying around at this time of year. I try to be radiant and grounded.”—June Moon
