Christmas Day Has Always Been My Birthday

Christmas Day has always been my birthday.

People usually react with surprise or jokes.

“You share a birthday with Jesus?”

“So you must get extra gifts.”

What they don’t see is that for many years, I didn’t actually get to celebrate at all.

Growing up, Christmas was never a day of rest for me. It was a day of service. As a girl, and later as a young woman, my role was to help, to host, to care for others, to keep things running. Celebration was for everyone else. Rest was not part of the plan.

It took me a long time to understand that this experience was not unique; it was gendered.

Across households and communities, women and girls are often the invisible infrastructure of holidays and “special days.” We hold everything together so that others can rest, gather, and celebrate. And because this labor is familiar, it is rarely questioned or named.

Today, instead of writing something polished or analytical, I want to offer a simple reflection and a gentle ask:

Please look around you this season and notice the people who do not get to rest; at work, at home, in families, in care roles. Essential workers. Caregivers. The women who keep things moving quietly. Make space for them. Offer help. Offer rest. Offer recognition.

Rest should not be a reward. It should be a right.

This Christmas, I am learning to claim space for myself, to be held, not just to hold everything together.

And yes, today is my birthday too.

I am choosing to celebrate it, softly and intentionally. Happy birthday to me, and Merry Christmas to you all!🎄