Jody Day

World Childless Week Ambassador

The week between Christmas and New Year can curdle like an overcooked guest for those of us who are childless not by choice.

You see, we’ve survived the relentless pronatalism that is the two-month run-up to Christmas (it starts at Halloween for goodness sake!) and then we’ve managed to get through the actual day, and perhaps even the weird hangover day that is the 26th, and then…

Just when you thought it was safe to be childless again, along comes… TWIXMAS!

If you’re single as well as childless, ‘Twixmas’, as the week between Christmas and New Year is cutely called, can be especially challenging as it’s not unusual for many of your coupled friends to disappear into their units to recover, leaving you feeling quite isolated (again). And if you’re partnered, this can bring its challenges too, often involving visiting the now grumpy ‘other’ relatives when you’d all rather pretend you’d come down with a horrendous bug…

I used to make both of those errors. When I was single (most of my forties and early fifties) I would start making the to-do list from hell during the run-up to Christmas: do my taxes, tackle my leaning Tower of Pisa filing pile, declutter my wardrobe - you know the kind of thing - only to find myself doing precisely none of them when the time came, and thus beginning January 1st feeling like a failure before I’d even got out of bed - and that would be before I’d even tried and failed at some ‘New Year, New You’ bollocks. And in more recent years, I’ve had to learn to resist the ‘let’s catch up after Christmas invites, as well as any rashly-considered promises to finish DIY jobs around the house, or visit far-flung relatives. I’m learning to say ‘no’, which is a short word in my vocabulary but still one of the biggest asks of myself it seems. But thankfully, learning to disappoint others rather than disappoint myself is a skill that appears to be emerging as I lean into elderhood.

Because, as I cusp my sixtieth year, what I’ve learned (took a while!) is that the best thing is not to plan anything in the fallow quietness of Twixmas; no to-do lists, no catch-up plans, no self-improvement goals, no visits. Instead, what I need is to give myself a chance to metabolise all that I’ve been through that year as a childless woman in our relentlessly pronatalist culture; to noodle about doing not very much at all and thus to give myself space to reflect on the good, bad, and blah experiences I’ve been through, and which have changed me as a person, and moreover as a childless person. This year for example, I’ve moved into an almost-built house on Ireland’s Atlantic coast with the hope that it will be my last-ever home (a very sobering thought); welcomed a new great-niece into my life and held her in my arms with more ease and delight than I’ve ever felt before; and, at the other end of life’s spectrum, held my own mother’s hand as she departed this world.

I am not the same childless woman I was this time last year, and not only do I change with every passing year, but so does my relationship with my childlessness.

All change, even good, desired change, comes with a side order of loss; we have to let go of the old to welcome in the new. But what is often misunderstood in our culture is that the emotion that enables us to process change is grief. We are generally led to believe that grief is an ‘event’, something that arises after a bereavement, but it’s not just that; grief is always with us as part of our emotional repertoire - sometimes right at the centre of our lives, such as when we are in the heavy days of mourning our childlessness - yet often at the edge of our consciousness too, gently clearing away those leftover thoughts, beliefs, relationships, dreams and goals that no longer serve us. Grief is always with us, always Marie Kondo-ing our inner world, if we allow it space to do so. You could call grief the ultimate psychic de-cluttering tool.

So, this Twixmas, if you’re feeling a bit moody and out of sorts, perhaps a bit lonely or craving solitude, aimless, grumpy and discombobulated, don’t force yourself to jolly up. Allow those griefy feelings to move through you, and treat yourself with the compassion and tenderness you would have lavished on the children who live only in your heart. And then, when the new year does come around, you might find that you’ll be able to muster up some well-rested enthusiasm for it.

And as for those ‘New Year, New You’ exhortations… can I suggest you ignore them, as I’ve learned to? Because you don’t need a new you. You may be a little raggedy around the hem; we all are - life is messy and childlessness can take its toll just as powerfully as parenthood can, but in less socially acceptable ways. But the fact remains that you were born childless and worthy and you remain childless and worthy. You are a perfectly imperfect human: join the club.

So now, maybe make yourself a hot chocolate and snuggle down to watch this webinar I recorded a few years ago about managing the feelings that arise at Twixmas. It includes some poetry and reflections and is very gentle. And then afterwards, maybe take a little nap? Because you are so worth it!

You can see the resources mentioned in Jody’s video HERE