Should we have gleaned anything from the influx of holiday movies, ubiquitous decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the cultural zeitgeist has determined Christmas is a holiday best served cold. Is that so?
The bigwigs in the top of the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they lack the inherent understanding we southern hemisphere folk possess: a sun-drenched Christmas is simply superior. This season is fraught enough – irrespective of temperature – but at least we don't have to contend with seasonal depression on top of it all.
And this isn't just an empty claim. I spent my entire childhood enduring 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 dark skies by 4pm and a crisp sting on my cheeks. The sole upside? The fashion choices; layering is inherently stylish.
In fairness, a cold Christmas has its appeal. It's traditional, classic, and the possibility of snow is truly magical. The cosy charm of a frosty gathering is hard to dismiss. Yet, with my extended family an ocean away, I always felt I was lacking an authentic celebration that not even the richest hot chocolate could replicate.
Everything changed when another move brought my family to Australia. There, I finally experienced a proper festive family affair, joined by extended relatives for the first time. With a larger group to entertain, my father got experimental in the kitchen, crafting a potent vodka jelly that left everyone reeling. We slept soundly that night.
This became our routine for years – sharing the day with family and friends, complete with playful battles 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.
Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I anticipated a surge of nostalgic longing. Instead, I found myself missing everything that made a summer Christmas unique. Sipping sangria in the sun. Feasting upon piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a phone call away. Hot-pink sunsets stretched across the sky. Suddenly, I was a summer celebration advocate.
"That summer heat soothed the sorrow in monumental ways."
This feeling was reinforced after my father passed away. My mother decided to return home to New Zealand. The first Christmas without him was incredibly tough, his loss palpable everywhere. Yet, being once more surrounded by family under the gentle heat of the summer sun alleviated the grief in monumental ways.
All this said, I must confess to being a walking contradiction. This year, I'll be celebrating 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 little hold on me!
Nevertheless, I'm keen to return home for another New Year's Day under the Australian summer sun. Knowing my family – including a newest member – will be close by as we enter the new year fills me with a happiness my younger self always yearned for. Not even the fluffiest snow can hold a candle to that feeling.
A seasoned gaming analyst with over a decade of experience in online casino strategies and player psychology.