All I Want For Christmas

is the gift of being known

The wrapping paper on the presents was bright and garish. The mid-1990s weren't exactly known for their restraint and these presents had been wrapped with cheap paper no one else wanted.

The charity probably suggested gifts for an 8 to 10 year old girl, but the box contents were decidedly not suited for me. I don't even remember what the gift was, but I clearly remember the uncomfortable progression of delight, disappointment, and shame as I unwrapped the box.

I probably tried to laugh it off: "Ha, these people think I'm some kind of unsophisticated kid who likes pink toys!" But the truth is that I desperately wanted someone to notice what I liked and it hurt when they didn't.

We all want to be known; it’s a fundamental human need. When our parents cannot or will not give us the gift of being known, it’s heartbreaking. It hurts even when you’re an adult and end up planning your own bridal shower because your mom says, “You’re just too particular and I can’t do things the way you like.”

This is the true tragedy of the Christian patriarchy. Children are means to an end, not humans to be known and loved. What if our parents had been able to delight in us as children and not viewed us as vipers in diapers, as sharpened arrows, as wills to be broken? Our parents lost the ability to take joy in us as humans. They lost the chance to build healthy relationships with us. They lost—in many cases—the opportunity to know us as adults.

I just finished wrapping the last gifts for my 6-year-old son. Some gifts will surprise him and some won’t—because I know my son and I know that he prefers to pick out the exact item he wants.

And because I remember how much I wanted a gift that was chosen specifically for me, not for "Girl, 8-10 years old."