A Christmas Special for Anyone Barely Holding On This December
By Angelina Mi Lajki
December used to feel like magic.
The glitter, the lights, the smell of pine, the cookies, the knäck simmering in a saucepan while my mom dropped caramel into the snow to check if it was “lagom.”
My grandfather’s ten kinds of Christmas cookies.
Lucia rehearsals.
Porcelain Santas on every shelf.
And the giant glass cabinet full of his Santa collection that stayed out all year — my childhood museum of magic.
But like many of you…
I grew up with two Christmases happening at the same time:
🎅 The magical one everyone saw
and
🖤 The one underneath — full of tension, fear, addiction, disappointment, and silence.
My dad’s alcoholism was the dark ornament no one talked about.
A shadow hiding behind every tradition.
A nervous system always on high alert.
And without realizing it, I carried that shadow into adulthood.
🎁 When You Become the Christmas Superwoman… Until You Break
Fast forward to motherhood.
Bills.
Business.
Burnout.
Trying to build a creative life while surviving betrayal, bankruptcy, sickness, and single-mom reality.
And every December, I went into performance mode.
The full smörgåsbord.
The perfect table setting.
The gifts I couldn’t afford.
The traditions I tried to recreate.
The illusion of stability, safety, normality.
I told myself:
“If I make Christmas perfect, maybe my kids won’t feel the chaos I grew up with.”
But perfection is a prison.
And fear is a terrible interior designer — it decorates everything with shame and pressure.
And then there was my dad.
Alone.
Struggling.
Ashamed.
Trying.
Falling.
Missing Christmas after Christmas even when I cooked extra just for him.
There is one memory that still lives inside my bones:
My boys were 6 and 7 years old, excited in the backseat on our way to Christmas at my ex-husband’s family.
We picked up my dad.
He got in the car with a plastic bag of gifts.
And he was drunk.
I held my breath for two kilometers before panic swallowed me.
I started crying silently.
My nervous system went into childhood survival mode.
We had to stop the car.
I had to ask him to get out.
On his birthday.
December 25th.
The same day as Jesus — our long-standing family joke.
He stood in the snow holding his plastic bag of gifts…
and we drove away.
I felt like a child forced to make an adult decision I never wanted.
A daughter choosing her kids over her father.
A mother breaking, again, in silence.
Nothing prepares you for that kind of heartbreak.
💔 When Christmas Turns into a Season of Loss
Then came 2020 and 2021.
My ex mother-in-law died of a heart attack right before Christmas.
My dad died of a heart attack weeks later.
No closure.
No goodbye.
Just grief piled on grief.
And in the middle of all that loss…
a betrayal trauma that shattered everything I thought was stable.
Christmas hasn’t been the same since.
The season triggers every ghost at once:
👻 the ghost of my dad
👻 the ghost of childhood fear
👻 the ghost of not being enough
👻 the ghost of financial stress
👻 the ghost of trying too hard
👻 the ghost of burnout
👻 the ghost of loneliness
👻 the ghost of comparing myself to perfect holiday posts
👻 the ghost of holding it all together alone
Sometimes I wonder:
“Am I cursed? Is this karma?
Am I destined to end up alone like he was?”
But that’s trauma talking.
Not truth.
🖤 The Loneliness We Don’t Talk About
Working extra shifts in elderly care has shown me loneliness in its purest form.
Old souls sitting alone in decorated rooms, waiting for visitors who never come.
Whispering “God jul” to nurses placing poinsettias so the room doesn’t look forgotten.
I see my father in them.
I see my future fears in them.
I see the fragility of being human.
And I remind myself:
Their story is not my destiny.
I am not my father’s ending.
Loneliness is not inherited.
It’s not a curse.
It’s a sign we need connection — not perfection.
❄️ This Year, I’m Choosing Something Different
I’m taking my boys to my mom’s lake house in Åg, Dalarna.
Snow. Sauna. Fireplaces.
The kind of silence that heals instead of hurts.
I’m letting go of performing Christmas.
Letting go of perfection.
Letting go of guilt.
Letting go of being the “holiday hero.”
This year is about peace.
Presence.
Softness.
Breath.
Moments, not mastery.
Maybe that’s enough.
Maybe it always was.
🌟 A Message to Anyone Struggling This Christmas
If your December feels heavy…
If the pressure is crushing…
If you’re grieving someone you miss…
If you’re exhausted from trying…
If the financial stress makes your stomach ache…
If motherhood is stretching you too thin…
If your childhood memories still haunt you…
If you feel invisible behind the lights…
This is for you.
You are not failing.
You are not cursed.
You are not alone.
You are not behind.
You are not broken.
You are healing — even when it hurts.
Some years we glow.
Some years we crumble.
Some years we just breathe and call that a win.
This may not be your brightest Christmas…
but it might be your most honest one.
And honesty is where healing begins.
🤖 Why My AI Avatar Told This Story
This Christmas special is narrated by Ai-ngelina Mi Lajki —
my digital twin, my alter ego, my expressive dimension.
Not because AI replaces authenticity.
But because AI became the bridge between:
✨ the truth I carry
✨ and the voice I’m still learning to trust
AI didn’t silence me.
It amplified me.
It let me speak my story when grief made my human voice tremble.
Her face may be digital —
but the story is mine.
The soul is mine.
The healing is real.
This is the future I believe in:
a world where AI helps us express, connect, heal, and create without limits.
🫶 If This Resonates… You Don’t Have to Walk Alone
I’ve just opened the doors to the Level Up Your Selfie Skool Community —
a space for creative healing, storytelling, authenticity, AI magic, and real connection.
If this episode hit home,
you will feel safe there.
You will feel seen there.
You will not be alone there.
Join through Skool HERE
and step into a community where we level up together —
one truth, one story, one glow-up at a time.
✨ As Always Extra RainbOH!w Sparkles & Good Vibes OH!nly ✨🦄💦🌈
/ Angelina Mi Lajki
