Why Warmth Wins: Why Cold Christmases Pale in Comparison to Celebrating in Summer.
If we have gleaned anything from the influx of holiday movies, ubiquitous decorations, and jingle bell-infused songs, it's that the cultural zeitgeist has determined Christmas is a holiday best served frosty. Whatever!
The bigwigs residing above the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they are without the innate knowledge we denizens of the south possess: a warm Christmas is simply superior. This season is stressful enough – irrespective of temperature – but at least we don't have to battle seasonal depression on top of it all.
Frosty Formative Years
And this isn't just hot air. I spent my formative years enduring cold festive seasons. Despite my family originating in New Zealand, my father's career meant inevitable international moves. My younger years were scattered across the UK and the US, meaning every December brought early nightfall and a biting chill on my cheeks. The sole silver lining? The fashion choices; layering is inherently stylish.
In fairness, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's traditional, classic, and the prospect of snow is truly magical. The cosy charm of a chilly celebration is hard to disregard. Yet, with my extended family an ocean away, I always felt I was missing out an authentic celebration that not even the most decadent hot chocolate could replicate.
The Southern Shift
Everything changed when another move brought my family to Australia. There, I finally experienced a proper festive family affair, joined by more family for the first time. With a bigger crowd to entertain, my father got experimental in the kitchen, concocting a potent vodka jelly that was famously strong. We slept soundly that night.
This became our tradition for years – sharing the day with family and friends, complete with water gun fights across the table. That was, until my parents heeded the opportunity of a new job and moved to a notoriously chilly part of northern England.
A Revelation in Reverse
Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I anticipated a wave of fond remembrance. Instead, I found myself yearning for everything that made a summer Christmas special. Sipping sangria in the sun. Noshing on piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a short drive away. Vibrant sunsets painting the sky. Suddenly, I was a hot-Christmas convert.
"That summer heat eased the grief in monumental ways."
This feeling was reinforced after my father passed away. My mother decided to move back to New Zealand. The first Christmas without him was profoundly difficult, his loss palpable everywhere. Yet, being once more surrounded by family under the gentle heat of the summer sun alleviated the grief in monumental ways.
Conflicting Celebrations
All this said, I readily admit to being a walking contradiction. This year, I'll be celebrating during winter in South Korea, and I'm genuinely excited to explore Seoul in my fluffiest coat, hoping for a snowfall. The cold Christmas propaganda still has a little hold on me!
Nevertheless, I'm keen to return home for another New Year's Day under the bright southern sun. Knowing my family – including a newest member – will be nearby as we enter the new year fills me with a happiness my younger self always yearned for. Not even the fluffiest snow can compare to that feeling.
