‘WE ALL, AT SOME POINT, REINVENT CHRISTMAS’

Is it just me who thinks the Christmases of our childhood tend to be the ones that imprint on us for life? Although I have lived in Britain for 26 years, the nostalgic longing for my childhood Christmases in Sydney is strong. Those involved splashing about all day in a swimming pool, usually wearing a new swimsuit and jumping all over new inflatables. Oddly, Christmas lunch, even on a sweltering hot day, was always roast turkey with all the trimmings, followed by a flaming pud smothered in brandy butter. (People here often ask why Aussies eat that on a scorching summer Christmas Day; it’s a great question, for which I have no answer. Though my mother has in recent years added the one Australian spin of slow roasting her turkey in a covered barbecue.)

My first ‘reinvented’ Christmas, and my first in London, was different to any other – I was working that day in a pub, and I felt a strange mix of independence and melancholy as I trudged to the nearest phone box, pockets dragging under the weight of all those 10p pieces, to soak up some festive cheer from my parents, brothers and sister. I felt lonely. But also brave. When I had dinner later that evening with fellow Aussie ‘orphans’, I was cheered by the thought that I was creating my own memories and adventures.

The fact is we will all, at some point, have to readjust our idea of what Christmas is. Our cover star, Shirley Ballas, understands that all too well. When I found myself chatting to her at a function, and she told me how, in the wake of a great loss, she and her family were finally daring to enjoy Christmas again, she moved me to tears. I knew I had to persuade her to share her story. On page 32 she headlines our group of writers revealing how they transformed their own challenges with this most emotionally loaded of days. Their stories exude an optimism that I find infectious and inspiring, and my hope is that you do, too.

Thankfully, my Christmases have improved since that day pouring pints, and they have evolved many times over. My husband and daughter have celebrated a few on Sydney beaches, and this year we will pile into my mother-in-law’s in Nottingham to enjoy her traditional roast chicken (she hates turkey) with baked and mashed potatoes. We’ve started our own little rituals, such as giving my daughter new festive pyjamas to wear every Christmas Eve, which I’m hoping she will remember as fondly as I remember my Christmas Day swimming.

Wherever you are today reading this, I really hope you have a wonderful Christmas.