It really won’t look much different than the Christmases I’ve had for the last four years. I’ll sleep in, wake up alone (except for the cat!), read, watch some movies and catch up on some household chores. If a large dose of ambition comes along, I’ll even get a workout in.

Most of you who read this blog know that I don’t have family here in Atlanta, and in fact am estranged from the family I have elsewhere. Before my divorce, I was welcomed as a part of my former husband’s family, and the holidays were always a time for everyone to be together. That all went away when he and I split up in June 2001.

After that, the holidays ceased, for me, to be a season of joy and thanks. They became a time to be endured – ignored and forgotten about, ideally. Thanksgiving and Christmas were spent alone, huddled away in my apartment watching bowl games and TV marathons of NYPD Blue or Law & Order – but definitely no holiday parades. I’d go back to work and hear everyone around me talk about the nice time they had. When they asked how my holiday had been, I’d smile and say fine. But I really hated the holidays. They didn’t seem to have much use for me either.

This year is different, although it may not look like it on the surface. Rather than a glass with barely a sip in it, my glass is considerably more than half full. I have a good job with a great company, and I enjoy the people I work with. I live in a nice apartment in a city I love. I have a new car, food in the fridge and (a little!) money in the bank. I have good friends who time and again demonstrate how much they care about me, and I’ve just started dating a wonderful man. When I add all that up, I get WOW!

Will I be by myself on Christmas? More than likely. Do I wish that were different? Sure. So what’s different about this year?

This year, I am capable of stepping outside my own reality for a moment and realizing how incredibly lucky I am and have been. I have so much. This year, I am content and happy. That’s what’s different.