A Confession

It's after Thanksgiving now sooooo I can celebrate Christmas without any grumbling from those naysayers who are always like, "Don't even mention Christmas before Thanksgiving or you're dead to me!"

I must be dead to a lot of people, because I started Christmas shopping in October. I had nine Christmas presents and all my wrapping paper purchased while my family's Thanksgiving turkey was still strutting around a barnyard.

Other people who defy the naysayers by starting to celebrate early don't usually start with shopping. They start with a little Christmas music, then maybe purchasing a seasonal Christmas treat while taking care of the last-minute Thanksgiving shopping. Then the day after Thanksgiving the tree comes up and--hey, whaddaya know? Guess it's time to get Christmas presents. Gotta put something under that tree.

What I'm trying to say is that many people feel ambivalence towards Christmas shopping. Some also get anxiety about it or just plain dislike it.

Not many people love it, but I do.

Okay, this is the part where I confess something to you.

Every now and again, some philosophical soul goes off on some rant about the commercialization of Christmas: "I mean, gifts! Really? Wanting presents on Christ's birthday is materialistic and greedy! Everyone should get one gift for Christmas. Or better yet, no gifts. They don't really mean anything, after all. Don't you agree?"

In the past, I would vaguely mumble something like, "Yeah, presents! Who needs 'em? Materialism and all that!"

But no more. I'm coming clean.

Ladies and gentlemen, gifts are my number-one language of love.

You heard me. Of all the five languages of love, gifts mean the most to me.

I've been ashamed of it ever since I realized the truth. It does seem really materialistic. Not to mention greedy and shallow.

But I've recently decided to embrace the fact that yes, presents mean something to me.

While you're still reeling from the shock that people like me exist, allow me to point out the two greatest blessings of having gifts as my love language.

The first is that it's a pretty diverse love language. Anything meaningful is a gift. Sometimes that's an actual gift, but sometimes it's something that comes from one of the other four love languages. Words of affirmation can be a gift. A quality visit from a friend who usually wouldn't come by can be a gift. An especially welcome hug or act of service can be a gift. It's the thought, effort, and the outward manifestation that someone was thinking about me are what make gifts gifts.

The second blessing is that I like to give other people presents. I take extra joy in giving other people gifts. Thus the very early Christmas shopping. Gotta start early so I have plenty of time to find something perfect for everyone!

Of course, like all love languages it has its downfalls. The first is that sometimes, yes, there's guilt for being materialistic.

The second is that if I can't think of a good gift for someone, I feel like a failure.

The third is that sometimes when I ask people I care about what they want for Christmas, they try to do me a favor and say, "You don't have to get me anything."

And then my soul cries, "WHY DON'T YOU WANT MY LOVE?"

And then I curl up in my closet and sob while they pat themselves on the back for being so considerate of me and also not materialistic.