Dear Husband, Here’s what I really want for Christmas…
A Love Letter. Sort of.
It’s that magical time of year again—the season of twinkling lights, peppermint mochas, and me pretending I didn’t buy my own stocking stuffers because “Santa totally brought them.”
Which means it’s also time for the annual “What do you want for Christmas?” conversation. You ask it every year with the sincerity of a man who genuinely expects a list with links, sizes, and, if possible, tracking numbers.
But this year, I thought I’d write you a letter instead. A heartfelt one. A vulnerable one. A letter that speaks not just for me, but for women and mothers everywhere.
So here it goes.—deep breath.
What I Want for Christmas: The Real List
(Spoiler: none of it fits in a gift bag.)
1. A break. A real one. Like…a REAL real one.
I’m talking about a break where no one says my name, touches me, or asks where their pants are. I want a break from mentally cataloguing the grocery list or remembering the dentist appointment I scheduled six months ago.
I want to rest without thinking, “Should I be doing something productive?”
A break where the only thing I’m responsible for is deciding between taking a nap or scrolling Insta until my finger cramps.
2. Ownership. Beautiful, glorious, full-task ownership.
Not, “Tell me what needs to be done, and I’ll do it.”
Not, “Just make me a list.”
Not, “I didn’t know you needed help!”
I want you to pick a lane, ANY lane, and drive it to completion without me acting as your GPS, cruise control, and emotional support passenger.
3. The invisible load…to be visible.
I want you to look around the house and notice that the dishwasher did not, in fact, load itself. That birthdays don’t magically remember themselves. That food doesn’t leap into the pantry because it loves us.
If you could see the invisible load even once, the way I see it 24/7, I swear angels would sing.
4. Time with my friends that does not require a strategic operations plan.
I want to say, “I’m meeting a friend for dinner,” and for no one, NO ONE, to respond with, “Okay, but what about the kids?” or “What should they eat?” or “When will you be back?”
Let me leave the house like a man. Keys. Phone. Bye.
5. Time alone where no one interprets it as suspicious.
Yes, I am at Target again.
No, I am not planning anything mysterious.
I am simply walking around in peace, touching throw pillows, and buying absolutely nothing I need. This is self-care.
6. For someone else to think ahead.
You know how I’m always five steps ahead? I want you to take…just one. One little step ahead. Just enough so that I can experience the adrenaline rush men seem to get from “winging it.”
Just please—handle a task without the follow-up question, “So…what next?”
Bonus Item: For you to read this letter without getting defensive.
If you can do that, put a bow on yourself and call it a day.
In conclusion, I love you. I just also need you.
I don’t need diamonds or gadgets or another candle that smells like “Winter Pines & Regret.” I need a partner who sees things, takes things, and gives me the kind of support that lets me breathe again.
That, more than any wrapped gift under a tree, is what women and moms really want.
But also…if you did want to throw in a massage gift card and a weekend where I don’t wake up with a foot in my ribcage, I wouldn’t say no.
With love, exhaustion, and a dash of Christmas spirit,
Your Wife
