It's five years since I stopped really believing in Santa Claus. Four since I asked the question.
This is my last Christmas as a legal child.
And I can't help feeling sad and disappointed.
I live in one of the richest countries in the world, and I have a home, food and several presents this Christmas, so I know I'm lucky.
But I know inside me that I had more presents to open last year and the year before, and I feel disappointed. When I finished opening them and realised it, I just wanted one more. Just one more surprise.
My stocking is also less full than in other years.
I'm disappointed, and I hate myself for being so disappointed and selfish.
Christmas crept up on me this year. I hadn't sung many carols in the lead up, because it was too early- and now it's Christmas Day, and it's too late.
Last night I forgot to put out milk, cookies and a carrot for Santa Claus. I even forgot to read "Twas the Night Before Christmas" aloud. I only remembered this morning. I'd kept doing these traditions despite being the youngest in the house.
I don't know what this means. Will I ever do those things again, until I have my own children? Will I stop doing the traditions of my childhood? Will that make me an adult? Or will doing them celebrate that time?
Today I left the house on Christmas Day for the first time ever. I went to watch my sister take part in the Christmas swim at the local beach. I was late. I didn't see her swim. But she didn't really swim, she ran in and out again. The water was freezing. It was great watching the idiots of the community running down to the sea. They had a bonfire on the beach and buoys to swim out to. A woman who does it every year said the water was colder than it was last year. I'm planning on doing it next year, though with a wet suit on.
I'm also planning, when I've done my driving test next year, to drive into the city and walk around. See everything shut and people together. The city completely quiet and empty and still.
New traditions, to replace my childhood ones.
Earlier I heard "Winter Song" by Sarah Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson on the radio and nearly started crying.
Being this age is hard. I'm on the brink of adulthood. I've spent the year doing things thinking "this is something I should be able to do, as an adult" or "this is something I shouldn't be doing, as an adult". This is my last year of childhood. I've got long limbs and good grades and a social life, so I'm prepared for adulthood. For drinking legally and college and passing my driving test and going out on Saturday nights.
But I always come back to that question. What do I do about my childish habits? Christmas traditions, New Years traditions, spring, summer, birthday traditions. And if I keep them, what does that make me? An adult? Or a child pretending to be?
There's a quote on the Internet, "The key to growing up is not to grow old." But I want to grow older, to mature - and also be vibrant, exciting, youthful, someone others want to be friends with, in college. Who wants to be friendless?
Suppose no-one ever said growing up was easy.
After I realised I had less presents than last year this morning, and began fighting the urge to feel disappointed, I found I'd missed a present. It was from my aunt, and I knew it would be a book voucher- but it helped. Opening another present, even though it wasn't a surprise, quelled my feelings of disappointment and selfishness.
I guess growing up doesn't stop at eighteen. I have a few more months before I leave my childhood behind forever. If I have a young heart, I guess age is just a number.
Besides, maybe I can adapt my childhood traditions.
