I love receiving holiday greeting cards. It’s such a thrill to go to the mailbox expecting to see a stack of bills, but instead finding envelopes stuffed with photos of smiling faces, little handwritten notes, and festive decorations. They almost never fail to bring a smile to my face. Almost.
Coming from an extremely religious family, I often receive holiday cards that are addressed to only me. Everyone that knows me is aware that I live with my partner, that we are a couple, and that we have been together for over two years. I can’t imagine sending a Christmas card to a household with two people and only addressing the card to one of them. It seems incredibly rude.
I know that this is their feeble attempt at ignoring something that they strongly disagree with, but I’d almost rather not even receive their card. It shames me, though not in the way they might have wished. It embarrasses me that my family is so backwards and intolerant that they can’t put their religious beliefs aside long enough to wish someone a Merry Christmas.
After a few weeks of procrastinating, I finally got around to mailing out our greeting cards earlier this week. Every card that I mailed was signed in the exact same manner: Love, Brian and Honey. I must admit that it gives me a little rush to know the recipient can no longer pretend that my partner doesn’t exist.
Maybe next year I’ll just superimpose Honey’s face on this card and send it to everyone: