At least in theory. But let’s face it. Christmas as an adult is way more complicated than it used to be.
As a kid, Christmas was a magical time filled with warmth and gifts and family. But when you grow up, those things change a little bit. Family becomes less of a support structure and more of a collection of people you are forever tethered to, people you will always love completely and immutably, but people whose company you might enjoy or be completely stressed out by on any given day.
Queerty breaks down why the cheery tones of the Salvation Army bells downtown still make me feel like a second-class citizen.
I was getting a pita doing some late Christmas shopping for my loved ones downtown the other day when the familiar ring of the Salvation Army bell nearly stopped me in my tracks. It was drifting over from across the street. I was headed that way. The light changed, and I walked. The closer I got, the bigger the knot grew in my stomach. I think I visibly stiffened.
I don’t know if it was the way I stared at the ground or what — it’s not like I really read gay (at least not as much as I’d like to) — but as I approached, the man standing at the little red kettle literally silenced his bell. He stood solemnly, like a pallbearer at a funeral, and watched me pass.