I'm sitting in a friend's living room mesmerized by her Christmas tree. And I wonder what my life would look like if my mother hadn't converted to the Jehovah's Witnesses when I was 5. I wonder what all those missed birthdays and Christmases would have been like.
I stare at my reflection in a mirrored ornament. I laugh giddily. I'm 33 going on 4.
For all the connections I feel with these new friends in my life there is something about this season that makes me feel so utterly disconnected. These people who I've come to love so dearly have no idea what it's taken me to reach this place in my life where I can attempt to enjoy Christmas with them. I am a stranger in a strange land and I know it.