Grinch gay

I’m sorry, everyone. I’m just not a Christmas person. It’s not like I haven’t tried. From an early age I attempted to throw myself at Christmas like a human javelin. My zeal to fit in by loving this holiday was rejected again and again by my true nature, and possibly also the holiday itself. When I was seven, the entire trimmed Christmas tree fell on top of me while I was watching Saturday morning cartoons—I was stuck underneath for twenty minutes. I threw myself at Christmas and Christmas threw itself assist at me.

Even as a kid, the build up made me uncomfortable because I knew I couldn’t connect with it. Other kids would get so excited. My parents did an incredible job making everything awesome, but something inside just didn’t feel authentic. I felt like an imposter donning my gay apparel, which, for a queer woman, is pretty unusual.

As I grew older there were other awkward Yuletide mishaps and even deeper shifts in views and perspective that made it ever more difficult to fool myself into thinking I loved Christmas. Probably the exact moment of my realization came when I was sitting by myself, and a holiday-themed Gap commercial came on television. As I list

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