And so this is soon to be Christmas, how fast does the year pass? It seems like only yesterday that all the joy, angst, cost and stress of last Christmas were only a few breaths past.

I find it interesting looking back at the Ule tide celebrations that I have enjoyed, hated, feared and avoided over the years. Only to realise that for some, it is just another day, to others it is the pinnacle of their year and for everyone else who sit in the middle, the loneliness and dislocation is palpable.

For me, I had to reclaim Christmas, coming from a childhood where Christmas was always dramatically filled with drunken arguments,  built up resentments and jealousy over whom got what and how much was spent on each other.

I found the perfect way to avoid the whole thing, which was to join a religion that didn’t celebrate Christmas. That worked for me for a number of years; I just opted out.

Until I had my own children, oh the dilemma, coming from a childhood where I always felt like the outcast, I did not want my children to feel like they were different, so I re-joined the family celebrations even though they were torturous.

I was able to maintain that for a while but the unspoken lies that sat in the room like the proverbial elephant and the amount of alcohol that needed to be consumed in order to turn that elephant pink, then became a problem. I did not want my children to learn that this was family, this was love.

Problem solved, move 4,000km away. A necessary expedition for the salvation of me and my children. Trouble with that is the loss of connection to family.

At some points in life you just have to decide which is more important - to keep perpetuating the lies or to find the truth, no matter how painful.

For me and my children and now my grandchildren, the corny saying ‘the truth will set you free’ certainly has done just that.

I look forward to Christmas now with an open heart, spending time with people where the cold hard truth has been spoken, not in raised angered voices but in voices of understanding and kind regard.

After that long journey to the place of respect and dignity, where the river of tears has created the furrows in my heart, where now only love and respect flow.

To be able to sit in a room surrounded by people that you have worked so hard with, to iron out the creases that had created the uncomfortable ridge that digs into your back, and know that all is right with the world.

I have managed to do this with my children, not my family of origin; that has not been possible. But my determination to not carry that legacy on into my family took courage, perseverance and total honesty.

Instead of holding sadness, bitterness or regret in regard to my family of origin, I instead wish them peace and joy and trust that after 20 years they may have found some resolve.

Accepting the things that I can change and doing something about that, letting go of things I can’t control and the wisdom to know the difference, has been solid guidance for me.

Christmas need not be about how much money we spend on each other, nor about sitting in a room filled with people where the lies hold us ransom and the tension becomes the tight rope we walk until the next unbearable gathering.

Christmas needs to be about celebrating our connection with all humanity, being there for one another, offering an act of kindness and concern, maybe giving something to someone less fortunate than ourselves.

If that were the spirit of Christmas and we had just a touch of that each day, imagine...

Judith Shapland has worked in the fields of Mental Health, Homelessness, Alcohol and Drug Recovery for 16 years and is the author of ' Always the Bridesmaid - Childhood Abuse, More Than Just Surviving'.