Why Warmth Wins: Why Cold Christmases Are a Feeble Imitation to a Sunny Season's Celebration.

Should we have learned anything from the deluge of holiday movies, ubiquitous decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the popular narrative has decreed Christmas is a holiday best served chilly. Whatever!

The bigwigs in the top of the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they lack the innate knowledge we denizens of the south possess: a sun-drenched Christmas is simply the better way. This season is stressful enough – irrespective of temperature – but at least we don't have to battle seasonal depression on top of it all.

A Chilly Childhood

And this isn't just an empty claim. I spent my entire childhood enduring cold festive seasons. Despite my family hailing from New Zealand, my father's career led to inevitable international moves. My younger years were scattered across the UK and the US, meaning every December brought early nightfall and a biting chill on my cheeks. The sole upside? The style options; layering is effortlessly chic.

In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its appeal. It's time-honored, iconic, and the possibility of snow is truly enchanting. The cosy charm of a chilly celebration is hard to disregard. Yet, with my extended family an ocean away, I always felt I was lacking an authentic celebration that not even the most decadent hot chocolate could replicate.

A Move to Summer

Everything changed when another move brought my family to Australia. There, I finally experienced a full festive family affair, joined by more family 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 all slept well that night.

This became our tradition 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.

Nostalgia's Surprise

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 short drive away. Hot-pink sunsets painting the sky. In that moment, I was a summer celebration advocate.

"That summer heat soothed the sorrow in significant ways."

This feeling was cemented 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 soft warmth of the summer sun alleviated the grief in profound ways.

A Self-Proclaimed Hypocrite

All this said, I readily admit to being a walking contradiction. This year, I'll be celebrating during winter in South Korea, and I'm truly looking forward to wander around Seoul in my warmest jacket, hoping for a glimpse of snow. The frosty festive ideal still has a little hold on me!

Nevertheless, I'm keen to return home for another New Year's Day under the bright southern 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 deepest powder can compare to that feeling.