How My Pink Christmas Tree Became a Portal to my Past
Mediocre to Others, Monumental to Me
Picture this: I’m listening to a ‘cozy christmas night’ playlist on Spotify while the full moon is shining through my living room window. I’m decorating my new 4 ft pink Christmas tree with disco ball ornaments as my cats anxiously side eye this unknown contraption.
My sister sent me Christmas lights, a tree, and a small retro sign that says ‘I’m in my Christmas era’ in the mail. Why did she do this? 1. Because she loves me 2. Because I was su*cidal the other day and I think she hoped a Christmas tree would become a protective factor.
Yes, I know that’s a dark joke. I feel “joking” about taboo things actually can help normalize these heavier experiences.
As I was decorating my tree I couldn’t help but observe myself through an outside lens. This time last year I was begging god for a moment just like this one. Here I was living in a cozy mountain home with my two cats in a place I feel extremely safe in.
Gratitude filled my entire body as I fluffed the branches open row by row.
This moment was anything but minuscule to me. It was monumental.
Sometimes I imagine telling these moments of deep gratitude to a wealthy person with unlimited resources and I giggle to myself. Some people would simply never understand the gratitude I feel for these experiences such as having a Christmas tree, having enough SNAP money for groceries. Hell…I’ve even found myself expressing gratitude for having enough toilet paper and tampons in my house.
This moment. This tree. It all represents a sense of freedom.
Freedom from emotionally unsafe people.
Freedom from threatening environments.
It represents connection to the community around me that I’ve been craving for years.
Connection to my cats that I didn’t know I’d ever live with again.
Most importantly….this tree symbolizes a coming back home to self.
For the first time in my life I feel safe to be me.
Who knew this Amazon on item was going to mirror these deep as fuck reflections? Who needs psychedelics when you can stare at an Elle Woods faux tree?
In that moment of admiration there were 3 versions of myself that I was reminded of:
My inner child who has always loved Christmas. I probably wasn’t going to buy a Christmas tree this year so it was timely my sister did that for me. My younger sister and I have always loved the holidays and we have special memories around Christmas. The holidays were our glimmers from the chaos we were often surrounded by. My inner child absolutely adores adult me. She not only feels emotionally safe with me but heavily listened to. She wants a pink Christmas tree with disco balls? Then that’s what we are getting in this bitch.
My past self who was in a codependent, emotionally draining relationship. This actually wasn’t the first time I had a pink Christmas tree. My first pink tree was in a home I had with an ex-girlfriend when we lived in Indiana. My first pink tree was bigger and sturdier for sure but it definitely didn’t have as much meaning as what this little fucker now has. This version of Morgan felt excited that we could represent something from the past in a much more empowering, autonomous way.
My current self who wasn’t sure if she’d ever have this moment again. I keep having these moments where the present version of me connects with a past version and we’re both like “wait…how did we get HERE?” I’m just a girl with a lot of trauma from the midwest…and now I’m here. Living indepedently, not relying on anyone financially, and running my own private practice.
I am so damn proud of myself and I will shout it from every rooftop. Every odd has been against me and I just knew I’d have my flowers some day. I also know deep down that this is just the beginning of my blessings.
“We did it,” I said aloud to all 3 versions sitting and staring at the tree in awe. I let the tears flow without censor. I grabbed my heart. “We did it Morgan. You’re here. You did this."
I looked at my cats. “I love you girls.” My little family. My home. My new life.
I looked up at the full moon lighting up my tiny mountain apartment. I could see the stars shimmering in the night sky. God, I loved the sky at night.
“Thank you mother moon. Thank you god.”
My heart felt like a cup of hot apple cider on a cold, crisp day.
With that…I want you to reflect on the following question.
What is your little pink Christmas tree?
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