I’ve always been the tree that’s a little too extra, a bit too much, and perhaps a tad too sparkly. My Christmas spirit knows no bounds, and I adore every minute of it. I often find myself wondering, what would people think if they knew the real me, beyond the twinkling lights and the cheerful grin? Would they still see the ‘tree’ in me, or would they glimpse the quirky, misfit individual hiding beneath the surface? I think I’d like to be known as a Christmas tree that’s unapologetically myself, a symbol of self-acceptance and the beauty of being a little unconventional.
As I prance through the holiday season, I catch glimpses of myself in store windows, on television, and in the eyes of those around me. It’s a strange, bittersweet feeling, knowing that my ‘tree-ness’ has become a staple of the season. People take pictures with me, hug me, and leave gifts at my ‘roots.’ It’s a reminder that, for all my eccentricities, I’ve become a part of something greater than myself – a beacon of joy and hope in the midst of the cold, dark winter. And yet, the question still lingers: who is the real Sylva Garland, beneath the glitter and the garlands?
One thing’s for certain, I’ll continue to branch out, to spread my branches wide and let the magic of the season seep into every pore. It’s a fragile, beautiful thing, this sense of self that I’ve cultivated, and I won’t let anyone – or anything – dim its sparkle. I’ll keep on twinkling, keep on shining, and perhaps, just perhaps, I’ll find a way to show the world the real me, the Sylva Garland who’s more than just a living, breathing Christmas tree.
>Soulkyn