Many holidays are filled with expectations—rules about how to look and act that everyone seems to just know, everyone except for me. At least, this is how I have often felt as a high-masking and late-diagnosed/discovered Autistic person. Christmas has always been one of my favorite holidays, but it has also been one of the most challenging. I was raised Roman Catholic; when the Advent wreath was placed on my church’s altar, I knew that the most wonderful time of the year was finally here! The weeks leading up to Christmas were much better than the holiday itself, but I have only recently begun to understand why the majority of my childhood Christmases ended with me in tears. Growing up, my neurodivergence was undetected and misunderstood. This resulted in a lack of adequate support and accommodations, which made special occasions, like Christmas, especially difficult for me.
Church
My family attended a Christmas Eve service held each year at my church. I looked forward to this celebration up until it actually came, when I struggled immensely. The service included special music and speakers, making it longer than usual and different from what I was used to. I would have greatly benefited from a detailed schedule of the mass, to help me know what to expect. It is somewhat common for those who do not regularly attend mass to do so on the major Christian holidays, so there were always more people at church on Christmas Eve. Without accommodations, like the earplugs I wear in crowded spaces today or the ability to take a break in a quieter environment without questions or judgment, I became overwhelmed.
Food
Many holidays are celebrated by eating specific foods to honor religious, cultural, and/or familial traditions. While family members made comments about my “pickiness,” my mom never pressured me to eat the same food as everyone else. She was unaware of my neurodivergence and sensory difficulties, but she always prepared an alternative meal just for me, and for that, I am grateful. I am certain that I would have struggled even more if this was not the case.
Gifts
With Christmas being a gift-giving holiday, I felt the pressure to mask my Autistic traits even more than usual. When opening gifts in front of others, we are expected to react in a certain way. Many of us are taught that it is impolite to respond with anything other than excitement, and even the way we express our excitement matters. When my instinctual response was to flap my hands or squeeze my fists, I suppressed the urge to stim and forced a full-face smile and appropriate eye-contact with the gift-giver instead, to avoid being viewed as “weird” or “too much.”
Better Days
It’s no wonder I was exhausted and melting down by the time Christmas celebrations were through! I put so much effort into trying to act, and even feel, a certain way, despite the toll that this took on me. Now that I better understand myself and can choose to spend time with loved ones who value my needs over the expectations of the holiday, my Christmases are filled with a lot more joy.
Holidays can be challenging for a lot of people, both disabled and non-disabled, for a variety of reasons. Many refer to this season as “the most wonderful time of the year,” but that doesn’t mean we have to pretend it is always the easiest time of year to feel wonderful feelings. Let us remember to be gentle with ourselves and each other every day, but especially during the holiday season. We deserve to feel and express all of our feelings, both good and bad, without judgment.
