Why Warmth Wins: Why Cold Christmases Pale in Comparison to Celebrating in Summer.
Should we have learned anything from the influx of holiday movies, ubiquitous decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the popular narrative has determined Christmas is a holiday best served frosty. Is that so?
The powers that be residing above the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they are without the inherent understanding we southern hemisphere folk possess: a sun-drenched Christmas is simply the better way. This season is stressful enough – irrespective of temperature – but at least we don't have to contend with seasonal depression on top of it all.
Frosty Formative Years
And this isn't just an empty claim. I spent my entire childhood experiencing cold festive seasons. Despite my family originating in New Zealand, my father's career led to inevitable international moves. My younger years were spent in the UK and the US, meaning every December brought early nightfall and a biting chill on my cheeks. The sole silver lining? The style options; bundling up is effortlessly chic.
In fairness, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's time-honored, classic, and the prospect of snow is truly enchanting. The cosy charm of a chilly celebration is hard to dismiss. Yet, with my extended family on the other side of the world, I always felt I was missing out an authentic celebration that not even the most decadent hot chocolate could make up for.
The Southern Shift
Everything changed when another move brought my family to Australia. There, I finally experienced a full festive family affair, joined by more family for the first time. With a bigger crowd to entertain, my father got experimental in the kitchen, crafting 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 answered the call of a new job and moved to a particularly cold part of northern England.
A Revelation in Reverse
Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I expected a wave of fond remembrance. Instead, I found myself yearning for everything that made a summer Christmas unique. Sipping sangria in the sun. Noshing on piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a short drive away. Vibrant sunsets stretched across the sky. In that moment, I was a summer celebration advocate.
"That summer heat eased the grief in significant ways."
This feeling was cemented after my father passed away. My mother decided to return home to New Zealand. The first Christmas without him was profoundly difficult, his loss palpable everywhere. Yet, being once again 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 massive hypocrite. This year, I'll be spending Christmas during winter in South Korea, and I'm genuinely excited to explore Seoul in my fluffiest coat, hoping for a glimpse of snow. The cold Christmas propaganda still has a slight grip on me!
Nevertheless, I'm eager to return home for another New Year's Day under the Australian summer sun. Knowing my family – including a newborn nephew – will be nearby as we enter the new year fills me with a happiness my younger self always craved. Not even the deepest powder can compare to that feeling.
