Christmas Abroad: Celebrating the Holidays Without Family

I moved to South Korea in 2017. I was twenty-two years old and excited to start my career as an English Second Language Teacher. With a Bachelor's degree and six hundred dollars in my bank account, I set off for Busan.

As anyone who lives abroad will tell you, it’s an absolute dream to live in a foreign country. It’s magic until the homesickness sets in.

For me, winters are difficult. My mental health suffers as seasonal depression slips in alongside my usual Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) symptoms. Even though my apartment is cozy, my insomnia worsens and nightmares become more frequent. I spend many nights staring into the dark, waiting for morning.

Being away from my family has, at times, worsened my mental health symptoms. In a foreign country, there are fewer people I can go to for support. And in South Korea, mental health is still very stigmatized, so seeking help from a qualified professional is nearly impossible.

I am lucky to have a supportive husband and a handful of good friends to lean on this time of year. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to live abroad for as long as I have.

I miss my family most around Christmas time. Especially after my nephew was born, I yearn to be at my older brother's house to watch my nephew open gifts and play with the wrapping paper. I want to help him feel that particular festive feeling of wonder that all children should get to have.

It feels like I’m a ghost in their lives. I am someone who is mentioned, but not known. Someone who is hung up on the wall, and seen only in the corner of their eyes.

I get self-conscious that my family judges my choice to live so far from home. But at the end of the day, Korea is my home, and it’s not like they’ve put in an equal effort to come to see me.

I go home for Christmas once every two to three years. After COVID, plane tickets skyrocketed. What used to be a 1,000-dollar ticket from Souel to JFK is now close to 3,000 dollars.

It’s extremely expensive to travel, and I wouldn’t want to put my family in a hard position. My father and older brother are both farmers and are restricted by their busy workload and their wages. I’m not asking my family to go into debt for a visit, But I do wish they’d think of me not as someone who chooses to live far away, but as someone who found happiness elsewhere.

My distance is not relevant to the amount that I love them.

Over the years, I’ve learned to combat homesickness with a combination of keeping American traditions alive and creating new traditions with friends.

Last year, I hosted a small Christmas party for the first time at my apartment. My Korean husband was a little reluctant about the idea. House parties are not common in Korea and he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of so many people being in our space. On top of that, Christmas is a couple's holiday in Korea, similar to Valentine’s Day. But after a bit of whining, I won him over, and he ended up having a great time!

We had plenty of snacks and drinks and lots of good conversation. My friends helped me forget how much I missed my family back home. Their company made my apartment feel like home.

I was reminded of my grandmother’s Christmas Eve parties at her big farmhouse. I felt a new appreciation for all the work she put into cleaning, preparing food, entertaining all her grandbabies, and keeping the Christmas magic alive.

Because of my grandmother insisting on hosting these parties well into her 80’s, my nephew and I get to share a similar memory. Thanks to her, I can feel more connected to him in this way.

Long after my friends left for the night and I was over my sink washing dishes, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

After that party, I felt a new excitement around Christmas that I hadn’t felt since I was young. I bought new decorations for my apartment and started playing Christmas music again. I also made sure to video chat with my older brother so I could watch my nephew unwrap his gifts. I don’t know why I didn’t do this sooner.

Maybe it’s because Christmas in Korea just didn’t feel the same without my family. But I realized it doesn’t really matter where I am in the world. If I want Christmas magic as an adult, it’s not Korea holding me back, it’s my attitude and effort.

My Korean husband will probably never feel the same sort of wonder and excitement around Christmas that I used to feel. But I hope that when we have kids, he will get a bit more into the holiday spirit so we can pass on this holiday cheer to them.

Being far from family for an extended period of time is challenging. Regardless of which holiday you celebrate this December, I hope you can find moments of magic.