🔗 Share this article Why Warmth Wins: Why Cold Christmases Are a Feeble Imitation to a Sunny Season's Celebration. If we have gleaned anything from the deluge of holiday movies, mass-produced decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the popular narrative has decreed Christmas is a holiday best served cold. Whatever! The powers that be in the top of the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they are without the inherent understanding we denizens of the south possess: a warm Christmas is simply superior. This season is stressful enough – irrespective of temperature – but at least we don't have to contend with seasonal depression on top of it all. A Chilly Childhood And this isn't just an empty claim. I spent my entire childhood experiencing cold festive seasons. Despite my family originating in New Zealand, my father's career meant inevitable international moves. My younger years were spent in the UK and the US, meaning every December brought dark skies by 4pm and a biting chill on my cheeks. The sole upside? The style options; layering is inherently stylish. In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's time-honored, iconic, and the prospect of snow is undeniably enchanting. The snug appeal of a frosty gathering is hard to dismiss. Yet, with my extended family an ocean away, I always felt I was lacking an true celebration that not even the richest hot chocolate could make up for. The Southern Shift 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 creative in the kitchen, crafting a heavily marinated vodka jelly that was famously strong. We all slept well that night. This became our routine for years – sharing the day with family and friends, complete with water gun fights across the table. That was, until my parents heeded the opportunity 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 wave of nostalgic longing. Instead, I found myself missing everything that made a summer Christmas special. 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. Suddenly, I was a hot-Christmas convert. "The warmth eased the grief in monumental ways." This feeling was reinforced after my father passed away. My mother decided to move back to New Zealand. The first Christmas without him was incredibly tough, his absence felt everywhere. Yet, being once more surrounded by family under the soft warmth of the summer sun helped ease the grief in profound ways. Conflicting Celebrations All this said, I readily admit to being a walking contradiction. This year, I'll be spending Christmas 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 cold Christmas propaganda still has a slight grip on me! Nevertheless, I'm eager to return home for another New Year's Day under the Australian summer sun. Knowing my family – including a newest member – will be close by as we enter the new year fills me with a joy my younger self always yearned for. Not even the fluffiest snow can hold a candle to that feeling.
If we have gleaned anything from the deluge of holiday movies, mass-produced decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the popular narrative has decreed Christmas is a holiday best served cold. Whatever! The powers that be in the top of the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they are without the inherent understanding we denizens of the south possess: a warm Christmas is simply superior. This season is stressful enough – irrespective of temperature – but at least we don't have to contend with seasonal depression on top of it all. A Chilly Childhood And this isn't just an empty claim. I spent my entire childhood experiencing cold festive seasons. Despite my family originating in New Zealand, my father's career meant inevitable international moves. My younger years were spent in the UK and the US, meaning every December brought dark skies by 4pm and a biting chill on my cheeks. The sole upside? The style options; layering is inherently stylish. In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's time-honored, iconic, and the prospect of snow is undeniably enchanting. The snug appeal of a frosty gathering is hard to dismiss. Yet, with my extended family an ocean away, I always felt I was lacking an true celebration that not even the richest hot chocolate could make up for. The Southern Shift 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 creative in the kitchen, crafting a heavily marinated vodka jelly that was famously strong. We all slept well that night. This became our routine for years – sharing the day with family and friends, complete with water gun fights across the table. That was, until my parents heeded the opportunity 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 wave of nostalgic longing. Instead, I found myself missing everything that made a summer Christmas special. 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. Suddenly, I was a hot-Christmas convert. "The warmth eased the grief in monumental ways." This feeling was reinforced after my father passed away. My mother decided to move back to New Zealand. The first Christmas without him was incredibly tough, his absence felt everywhere. Yet, being once more surrounded by family under the soft warmth of the summer sun helped ease the grief in profound ways. Conflicting Celebrations All this said, I readily admit to being a walking contradiction. This year, I'll be spending Christmas 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 cold Christmas propaganda still has a slight grip on me! Nevertheless, I'm eager to return home for another New Year's Day under the Australian summer sun. Knowing my family – including a newest member – will be close by as we enter the new year fills me with a joy my younger self always yearned for. Not even the fluffiest snow can hold a candle to that feeling.