Autism and the Holidays: Reflections
Autism and the holidays
I sit here on Thanksgiving morning. It’s a pleasant moment, the family in the living room, my children playing Animal Crossing together (and not fighting!), the puppy sleeping, my husband and I clicking away on our computers, the fireplace roaring. Internally, I am also preparing myself for Thanksgiving dinner, which will involve extended family. I love my family, but I’ve never enjoyed Thanksgiving gatherings. They are often overstimulating for me. Swirling smells fill the house (the smell of Turkey makes me nauseous), running children who make loud, squealing sounds, multiple conversations occurring and overlapping, small-talk that feels hard to enter. Requests for hugs that I feel uncomfortable declining. These days are not celebratory or connecting for me; they are days to be endured. This is the first year I have the language to describe my discomfort with Thanksgiving (and the general holiday season). Here’s my reflection on Autism and the holidays.
Autism Holiday Narratives
My old narrative: What is wrong with me that I flinch when my family reaches to hug me? Why am I not a better aunt who intuitively knows how to engage my nephews and nieces in conversation and play? Why am I so cranky-what’s wrong with me? Why do I get so foggy and stressed during the meal-what’s wrong with me? What is wrong with me? What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?
My new narrative: My autistic body doesn’t find physical touch comforting; while others might find this to be a nice way of greeting and communicating love and care, it is okay that this is not how I do it. To me a simple, “It’s good to see you” or “it’s good to be with you” communicates a great deal of love and care. I can choose to decline a hug; nothing is wrong with me. It’s okay to occasionally experience irritation and annoyance during the day; this is simply my body responding to sensory overload. I can choose to participate in these festivities because it makes meaningful memories for my family, my children, and even myself; it’s okay not to enjoy them. Choosing to participate in holiday family gatherings is consistent with my values; it doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it.
There are a lot of cultural messages around holidays. A lot of expectations to be jolly, festive, and happy. So to all of my fellow sensory-sensitive humans out there. Please hear this-it’s okay to not be happy, jolly, and festive. In fact, it’s okay to be miserable. It’s okay if you’re body gets overloaded and overwhelmed, and you’re a grouch. It’s okay not to emote positive emotion everywhere you go. It’s okay if the holidays are hard. It’s okay not to be okay. It’s okay not to like them and embrace them with cheer and enthusiasm. You can love your family and still not enjoy being with them.
Holiday gatherings are often overstimulating—the smells of food, sounds of young children playing, and multiple conversations all happening in one contained space-it’s a lot! All of this while there is the pressure to be “jolly, cheerful, and thankful”. You may love your family and find it hard to be with your family. You may love your friends and decline their invitation.
It’s Ok to not be Ok
It’s okay not to emote positive emotions. Positive emotions (especially if they don’t come from a true, authentic place) feel artificial AF for many Autistics. There is a lot of positive emotion being tossed around. The bypasser smiling, as they shout “happy holidays”. To me, this feels like a person saying, “Think fast,” while launching a speeding ball at me to catch. It’s a sensory demand being injected into me. I feel the pressure to respond and “match” their energy. I eagerly await January where people calm down and go back to regular social exchanges. Positive emotion can feel like a social demand-it feels like a thing to respond to. It can also create the sense of “what is wrong with me?” when we do not naturally match the cheer of others.
As I write this, I find myself thinking about Ebenezer Scrooge. What if “A Christmas Carol” is really the story of neurotypicals trying to convince a neurodivergent person to behave more like neurotypicals? What if it is the story of how uncomfortable neurotypicals get when others don’t match their energy and expectations? Now that is a Christmas story I’d enjoy reading. Maybe there was a good reason Scrooge didn’t like the holidays. What if the story had a different ending? Maybe it’s okay if some of us find this season difficult to navigate.
To whoever needs to hear it this holiday season: it’s okay not to be okay. I hope you will practice gentleness with yourself. Gentleness can mean being okay, not being okay; it can look like practicing boundaries (walking away when overstimulated, committing to less, attending for shorter periods). For me, my favorite holiday festivities involve quiet early mornings sitting by my fireplace, enjoying the fresh smell of the fir tree, drinking hot beverages while wrapped in soft blankets, and staring off into space while the gentle twinkling of the Christmas tree lights keep me company. The religious services, large gatherings, multiple-family meals, and high alcohol consumption- these are not my holiday celebrations, and that is okay.
Neurodivergent Families
This season can be particularly hard for neurodivergent families. Holidays can be overstimulating for Neurodivergent children. Neurodivergent adults who are parenting neurodivergent children are often dealing both with their own sensory overload and helping their children through their overload/disappointment. It’s a lot. We may decline the invitations; we may not send pretty “holiday cards” out to family and friends. Many of us (Neurodivergent families) are working really hard to simply hold our sh*t together. Many of us feel a huge sigh of relief after the holiday season warps as it marks a “return to normalcy.” A return to normal routines, diets, schedules, and expectations. A return to all of the things that help us stay psychologically contained.
My family and I don’t celebrate holidays the same way other families do. I used to feel a great deal of guilt for this, for not taking my kids to more exciting things. The reality is when we have done “exciting things”, this often results in sensory meltdowns, big emotions, and then my own emotions of resentment, having spent all my energy “spoons” to host a thing my kids were begging for only to have it become a complete cluster. So no, I don’t take my kids to “Zoolights” or big holiday events. Instead, I set up “Christmas picnics” where we put down a blanket by the fire/Christmas tree, drink hot cocoa, and eat Christmas cookies. We bake the same Christmas cookies every year, watch the same holiday movies each year and enjoy mellow, quiet, sensory-soothing activities. We embrace hygge during the holiday season. My kids, husband, and I create a new Stardew farm together and spend a few days binge-building our farm every year. Yes, it’s a lot of screens. And also, yes, we’re connecting and creating a shared experience. We find mellow, sensory-friendly ways of being together and connecting during the Holidays. It looks different than how typical families may celebrate, and that’s okay.
Have a Tolerable Holiday!
And so here I am wishing you a very happy tolerable-enough holiday season. I hope you will be gentle with yourselves and your family this holiday season and embrace the neurodivergent ways you celebrate, mark, and connect over this holiday season.
