The feeling of growing up hits me harder than usual this Christmas season. Things become different as I age. My excitement for December fades and I slowly lose the giddy and childlike excitement that once was. I miss those feelings.

I miss the warm feeling of tea between my hands and the burning of a brick fireplace, as I sip and watch the lights on the tree flicker.

I miss rolling out homemade sugar cookie dough, forming cookie cutter shapes, and waiting as they bake. I miss the laughter that came when discovering the melted and deformed shapes, trying to decipher which was the candy cane and which was the snowman.

I miss picking out our family tree, trying to find the perfect one. I miss the stress that was getting the tree through the front door, taking everyone’s strength to get it in and sit straight.

I miss picking candy canes off of the tree and fighting over the peppermint stick as my dog would try to steal it from my mouth.

I miss the nervousness that came with Christmas Eve. I’d lie awake, not being able to sleep. I’d count down the hours until the sun rose and I’d be able to wake my family.

Although I am weary and nostalgic for the childlike feelings I once had, I am also happy with the new feelings I have.

I am excited to see the faces of my siblings light up on Christmas morning as they wait to open their gifts.

I am thankful for the simple and thoughtful gifts I’ve received this year, like a homemade cassette mixtape and my clay vase, built and glazed by the hands of a best friend.

I am happy and I am grateful for the life I live, filled with love, friendship, and endless laughter. I am in love with my life and the art it has become.

Yes. I am changing and growing up, but I am okay. It’s time for new feelings and new beginnings.