Iris, Amanda, Graham & Miles

Each Christmas since 2006 I have watched the beloved Nancy Meyers film, "The Holiday."

I remember going to see it in the theater in Macon, Georgia, back in 2006 with my BFF, Kelley, and being relieved that I had finally met a character who so embodied every emotion I was feeling after falling head-over-heels in love with someone who didn't love me back. It was the first time an author had put into words, for me, exactly what I was feeling.

Watching Iris on screen was a revelation, no, a reminder. And, somehow it was so comforting to my aching heart. 2006 had been (and still remains) the worst year of my life. I was actually diagnosed with Broken Heart Syndrome that year, but back then no one really knew what that was, how to explain what was happening to me, or how to help me.

I had been divorced for four years at that point, but my son's dad had only just decided to sign over all his rights to our son. My heart broke for my little boy, (happy to say those two have now reconciled). And, I had met and been ghosted by a new someone who awakened feelings in me I didn't know existed. I was obsessed with him, addicted to him, and had withdrawals from him like a heroine addict trying to dry herself out alone in a desert. It was a very bad year.

The relentless pain in my chest was unbearable. I would stop breathing in my sleep, wake up gasping for air, have panic attacks, and I didn't eat or sleep for about seven solid months. I grieved so hard I couldn't chew food.

Someone out there, somewhere, knew exactly how I was feeling. Someone had written this screenplay, after all. When Iris sniffed the gas stove near the beginning of the movie, I understood all too well. I would've done almost anything to make the pain go away, or to feel normal again.

I love BIG when I love, and the price I paid for that in 2006 was hurting BIG, too.

As I watch the film each year, I've noticed how I've changed over time, and how I identify with a different character each time, depending on what season of life I'm in.

This year I feel a bit more like Amanda. I went through a very painful divorce last year (2021/2022), and I've been grieving. I miss my step kids SO MUCH. I miss my house we had to sell. I miss being together as a family and making holiday memories together. So, this year being alone seems an appropriate remedy. My daughter will be with her dad most of the holiday break, and my son will be splitting time between his girlfriend's festivities and ours. I didn't put up a tree. I haven't done any shopping. I just want to get on a plane and go somewhere far away for a few weeks. I cannot do that, of course. So, I'm settling for a weekend away with both of my kiddos, and I'm giving them cash for Christmas. I'll have them both in the same spot for two whole days. I can't hardly wait! It's the silver lining to my otherwise bittersweet December.

Some years I have felt like Graham. A single parent on some kind of constant overload, trying to be both a mother and a father, and having absolutely no idea how to both date, work and be a parent. I still have a hard time striking that balance. By the time I get off work these days, the thought of shaving my legs or getting dressed up to go out on a date makes me want to cry. It's just too much work. I'm too tired. My teenage daughter is a delight, and fairly low maintenance, but I'm her sole provider, and it's going to be 8 more years before she gets through college. I have a long road to haul, alone. How do you even begin to allow some man to come into your life and risk messing up "how we get from one day to the next" as the movie says???

Then, of course, there's Miles. I've been attached to a person I knew wasn't good for me. And, yet, I stayed because I loved them so much, or because I simply didn't want to be alone. I've been like Miles. I'm a truly "decent" human being, and when someone like us see the best in others (even jerks who don't deserve it), it's easy to get taken advantage of. I'm less like Miles these days, thankfully.

Three of the four characters in this movie end up dumping their toxic exes and get surprised by a happy end to their year. They celebrate New Year's Eve with Champaign, laughter and dancing. Who knows ... this might be the year some of us get to do the same.

It might also be the year we learn to eat at a bar alone with a glass of wine and our pride, learning to really be okay with solitude, and that's okay, too.

It's all part of the human experience, and it's okay to be whoever you happen to be this year.