How the Holidays Have Changed

Each year, as the Christmas season approaches, my family would set aside a weekend to bring decorations down from the attic, adorn our tree, and fill each room with red, green, and gold. Over time, however, the help behind that tradition has dwindled. 

Early on, my dad limited himself to only the heavy lifting due to a “lack of creative vision.” In 2018, my brother began college, and the decorating fell to my mom and me. Then, when I began college in 2022, decorating became a chore to have to squeeze into Thanksgiving Break. As my on-campus responsibilities grew, I began to wish that when I came home, the house would already be decorated and that the warmth of the holidays would simply be there. But what did that actually mean? Who would the task of decorating fall on?

In reality, by hoping Christmas decorations would already be up, I was really asking my mom to take on the entire house alone. Moreover, in wanting to take a step back, I’d be losing the creative outlet the weekend project actually served to be. My most recent realization is that holiday decorating wasn’t a chore, but a privilege. It was an opportunity to take a pause, contribute to that warmth I saw in youth, and actively participate in preserving it. What was once effortless as a child required intention as I grew older. The magic of the holidays no longer arrived fully formed; it depended on who in my family was willing to make space for it.

As responsibilities accumulated, so did the temptation to opt out, to arrive home and simply enjoy what had already been done. But with that choice meant fewer shared moments, fewer chances to create alongside my family, fewer reminders that celebration is not passive. Decorating my home was never just about the ornaments or the lights; it was about connection. It was about laughing (or arguing) over tangled lights, negotiating where the tree should go, and sitting back together at the end of the night to admire what we had made.

In this way, the holidays have changed not because they became less meaningful, but because they asked more of me. Choosing to decorate now feels like choosing to show up for my family, honor tradition, and recreate the warmth I once took for granted. The holidays no longer simply happen to me. Now, I help make them.