Everything Andie

Where are you, Christmas?
Why can’t I find you?
Why have you gone away?

As this holiday season came up, I couldn’t help but notice how different Christmas felt.

I kept catching myself saying things like, “Christmas is so different now,” or “It doesn’t even feel like Christmas.”

For a while, I couldn’t quite explain why.

Then it hit me: Christmas feels different now because I’m no longer just experiencing the magic — I’m learning how to create it, the way my parents once did for me.

My world is changing,
I’m rearranging.
Does that mean Christmas changes too?

Growing up, Christmas morning meant two things: waking up to see the “big thing” Santa brought us, and waiting for my cousins to arrive.

They all spent Christmas Eve with their other families, but Christmas Day was ours.

Everyone came to our house.

The best part of Christmas wasn’t the gifts — it was my cousins filling every room, the noise, the laughter, the feeling we were waiting all month for.

Even when I left for college in Hawaii, I came home for Christmas. It felt like something I could never miss.

Then my parents decided to sell that house. They downsized as they prepared to move to Texas. We only moved a few cities away, but suddenly those big, loud, special Christmases stopped happening.

We tried gathering at other houses to keep that feeling, but it wasn’t the same.

I still looked forward to the other little traditions — searching for Christmas lights with friends, trying the latest holiday drinks or treats at our local coffee shops, and doing our annual gift exchanges.

When my parents moved to Texas, visiting them became the new tradition. I flew there the last couple of years because it felt right — because it felt closest to the Christmas I grew up with.

This year, though, is different.

This is the first Christmas where I didn’t have anything planned, and it felt strange at first. As everyone around me shared their plans, I caught myself hoping no one would ask me about mine. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have a plan — and I wasn’t sure what that meant yet.

One of my favorite Christmas songs has always been “Where Are You Christmas?” by Faith Hill. I love it because it’s in The Grinch, my favorite Christmas movie.

But listening to it now, in my thirties — with my world changing and rearranging — it hits differently.

Leading up to Christmas, I felt myself trying to figure out what to do, where to go.

And then one day, I realized something simple but freeing: I don’t have to do anything.

So this year, I’m choosing to do nothing — on purpose. By nothing, I mean I’m letting go of the need to recreate my childhood Christmas or force it to look like what it used to be. Instead, I’m spending the day inside with my boyfriend and our cat, making a good lunch, and watching The Grinch.

If there is love in your heart and your mind,
you will feel like Christmas all the time.

There’s something quietly beautiful about this season of my life.

For the first time, I get to decide which parts of the holiday magic I want to keep, which ones I want to change, and which ones I’m ready to let go of.

I’m not trying to recreate my childhood Christmas or the way it’s always been. I’m learning to build my adult one — shaped by who I am now, and by the people (and pets) in my life.

And somehow, that feels exactly like the Christmas I need right now.

The joy of Christmas
Stays here inside us
Fills each and every heart with love.