Why I've decided to spend Christmas Day alone doing the things I love

One of two things usually happens when I tell people I'm spending Christmas alone. They either offer to have me as a guest at their own family gathering, or they look at me like I've just told them I only have weeks to live.

While I appreciate their generosity and concern, it feels like they're trying to ease their discomfort, not mine.

But after many years gratefully being an orphan guest at other people's family festivities, I've realised that it isn't actually how I want to spend the day.

This year I'm starting my own traditions

Like nearly 40 per cent of Australians, I have no religious affiliation. Christmas is more of a cultural habit than a holy observation.

This year, I plan to start my own traditions: an early morning hike in nature, eating my favourite foods (hello, cake for breakfast!), pampering myself with a home day spa, and most of all, enjoying the freedom of doing exactly what fills my cup, not what societal expectations dictate.

Being alone, particularly for women, is seen as an aberrant limbo — a foreign country we're just passing through before meeting someone to rescue us so real life can begin.

The moment of liberation for me came when I stopped waiting for something better to come along and realised that what I had was pretty great: a rich and expansive life, with textured love of many hues.

The joy of missing out

It hasn't always been easy. I used to be filled with dread in the lead-up to Christmas. All my family are overseas and as everyone else headed home to their loved ones for the holidays, I'd feel isolated and lonely.

My circumstances haven't materially changed. My family are still overseas. I still live alone. I still have no partner or children. What has changed is the way I view alone time.

I've realised that solitude is not loneliness. And that doing life solo doesn't need to be the sad, shameful existence we've been sold. It can be joyful, life-giving and abundant.

But first, we have to get comfy with our own company and see solitude not as a deficit but as something to savour.

For me, a big part of that shift has been the New Year's Eve ritual I've followed for several years. It started when I began to wish I could stay home and avoid all the noise and mayhem on the last night on the calendar.

Then I realised there was absolutely nothing stopping me from doing that. I began dating myself on December 31st and it's been glorious. I eat delicious food, listen to music that makes my heart swell, and write down 100 things that went well or made me proud in the year just gone.

Christmas can be whatever we want it to be

This year, I'm going away with friends for New Year so I decided to carve out Christmas just for me instead. While some may view it as an aberrant choice, countless people will quietly wish they could do the same.

There are also financial pressures, and the crushing weight of expectation that comes with a day we're pressured into making perfect.

It's perhaps no surprise that divorce lawyers are never busier than in January, as couples grit their teeth through the festive season before vowing never again.

Of course, I know that for many people, Christmas alone is not a choice. More than two million Australians will feel socially isolated during the festive season.

For those grieving lost loved ones or the end of a relationship, it can be particularly challenging. They deserve our support and compassion.

But perhaps it's the unrealistic depictions of blissful family gatherings we have foisted upon us at this time of year that make it unnecessarily isolating for so many.

We need to normalise doing Christmas differently. It can be whatever we want it to be.

I'm looking forward to making it one that works for me.

Jill Stark is an author, journalist and solo living advocate, living in Naarm/Melbourne. She's the founder of Solo Sundays and can be found here.