Why I have decided to spend Christmas alone this year

I have always loved Christmas. From helping my dad string colourful lights around the house, to watching my mum prepare a feast, the festive season brings back some of the fondest memories of my childhood.

These days, I spend the holidays at my sister’s house, where I am inevitably forced to dress up as Santa for my nieces and nephews, eat too much food and dance around the living room. I argue with my brother (tradition), we then drink whisky (also tradition) and mum lovingly tells us off.

Other Christmases have been spent with friends on a beach or at home with boyfriends, having quiet dinners under twinkling lights.

My point? Regardless of location or circumstances, I always celebrate the holidays with the people I love. So you can imagine how much it saddens me to say that, in 2020, as people gather in government-approved “Christmas bubbles”, I will be on my own – for the very first time.

No, I haven’t suddenly turned into the Grinch. But I would never be able to justify getting on a plane to see my mother, knowing that I risk her life by doing so. Whenever I envision us hugging, all I see is Covid-19 – in my mind a green, slimy substance – creeping from my breath and hands into her lungs. And nothing is worth potentially harming her, or anyone else for that matter.

I say this as someone who had Covid-19 back in March and might be immune (who knows these days?) and who is taking precautions but is unwilling to let the deadly virus take over the joy in my life.

I am not unsympathetic to those who have spent months apart from their family and want to see them during the holidays. One of my best friends is heading home next month and I can’t, and won’t, fault her for that choice – after all, it is in line with government advice.

Rather, my anger lies with those who are supposed to lead and look after us. Yesterday, 696 people died from coronavirus in the UK – the highest death rate since May. And yet, Prime Minister Boris Johnson insists that we must “save Christmas” – a ludicrous phrase he has used for months, presumably so that he can later hail himself as a modern-day Santa Claus who gave us the best present of all.

My anger lies with the Conservatives’ desire to boost the economy and gain popularity, rather than save lives. And for the blame that the party will inevitably put on the British people, when cases rise come January.

Scientists are already warning that the consequence of allowing up to three households to meet could cause a third wave of coronavirus and that five days of festivities might result in an additional 25 days of lockdown and countless more deaths.

On a positive note, spending the holidays solo or with one household doesn’t have to be all bad, either. I am determined to remain positive and enjoy the festive vibes I love so much. I have strung lights around my living room window and am buying a tree in a few days (I’m going to name him Fred) and have planned a three-day menu of Swedish, British and Chinese food. I come from a family of chefs, cooking is our haven.

I will take walks and drink fancy coffee, have phone calls and Zoom chats with my family – thank God for technology – and buy too many books. And of course, watch Love Actually and Home Alone for the millionth time.

There is no doubt in my mind that loneliness will hit at some point but when that happens, I will call my mum – and remember exactly why I’m doing this.