From Depositphotos.
A Thanksgiving day, and I was home alone exchanging emails with my single friends around the country…all celebrating the holidays with their own ways. They ranged from an academic who “finally had enough hours to finish that paper”, to those who binge-watched a TV season (or binge-read a favorite mystery series, which I like to do).
They were heading out to extra hours at the dog park or hiding from the world to spend quality time with the cat. They were hiking in the mountains or swimming in the ocean. They cooked, ordered pizza, or treated themselves to special meals
Most of us singles, in that email exchange, would have trouble relating to the hundreds of columns that sprout up this time of year, with infinite variations on the question, “Do I have to go to my relatives for the holidays?”
For example, this one’s from Carolyn Hax:
A single woman gets invited to her married sister’s events, where the in-laws do nothing to make her feel welcome. She’s tired of going through the motions each year so this time she’s got a hike planned for the morning, followed by an evening pub crawl with her friends.
Needless to say, the relatives are in an uproar. Her parents admit they don’t like going, but they feel it’s necessary. She feels a twinge of guilt so she writes to Carolyn Hax. Predictably, Carolyn (and almost all of the comments) say, “You do you.”
After all, the in-laws won’t notice if she’s gone. They shut her out of their conversations. And if her parents don’t want to go, they can find other things to do.
Every year, people – especially single people – will accept invitations to subject themselves to everything from boredom to outright cruelty. It would be more understandable if their presence at the event made the others happy.
But many of these single people get treated like trophies: “Aha, you came! That’s one more for us!” Once you’re there, they pretty much ignore you.
My friend “Clara” was a single, financially challenged city-dweller. She had few living relatives, none of them close. Her cousins always invited her to come to dinner at their suburban home.
Alas, they couldn’t be bothered to pick her up at the train station that was a 10-minute drive from their home. So every year, for reasons I never understood, she’d carve out a rental car from her already-tight budget. I’m betting it was a trophy invitation.
Some hosts can’t understand why anyone would prefer to be alone rather than with people – any people, even if they ignore you, as long as they’re in the same room. I actually heard someone talking about inviting the “waifs and strays” to come over for dinner. Not identifying as a waif or a stray, I decided that was a trophy invitation.
Of course, some guests don’t mind being trophies as long as they’re sitting around a table – any table – with people. Even if everybody is screaming “Go Eagles!” at the television set and they can’t tell one back from another (quarterback? linebacker? cornerback?).
As a certified holiday skipper, I feel the urge to weigh in.
In my experience, it’s not an all-or-nothing permanent decision. Although I usually say “No thanks” to holiday invitations, I’ve done Friendsgivings and dinners with friends over the years. Some invitations will be genuine – they really want you and vice versa.
I used to go to Europe alone for the Christmas holidays. A few years ago I was in Paris. I found a museum that was open, with a cafe serving delicious Parisian food. No one remarked on my solitary status. And my hotel left cards for the guests on their beds, wishing us a “Joyeux Noel.”
I must say this solves the pity problem. Nobody, absolutely nobody, will feel sorry for you if you can say, “Sorry, I’ll be in Paris.” When I was in academia, our department secretary even offered to give me her family if I’d give her my ticket. I think she was half-serious.
So I look forward to a holiday I can design myself. I decide who, where and how I’m going to spend the day.
Like the other singles emailing each other on that long-ago Thanksgiving, I’ve learned dozens of ways to avoid being a trophy guest. It’s another skill you acquire on the path to being happily solo and living a life that’s meaningful in your own way.
