Today’s Star columnist: Anouchka Sabntella

Anouchka Santella
Anouchka Santella
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I used to be terrified of Santa Claus when I was a kid. I would see men dressed like him in the street and shout and cry and wouldn’t calm down until he’d gone. Apparently I thought he wanted to eat me.

Obviously it sounds ridiculous for a kid to be scared of Santa considering he’s the one bringing the presents. But he’s also an old bearded man breaking into your house in the middle of the night. Thinking about it, I understand what I was afraid of. Worse, I judge other kids for not thinking more.

But that’s what Christmas is about. Being innocent and happy and joyful and giving and sharing.

I feel like it’s more about forced family time and being broke and fat by the end of it.

Last year was my best Christmas so far. Me and my dad went to the Peak District and walked for four hours talking about life and relationships and Harry Potter and bought Pringles and Maltesers as a Christmas dinner. We watched a stupid American comedy and went to bed. It was like a normal day but slightly better.

The fact it didn’t snow made my day too. I know I’m supposed to love it because it’s pretty or whatever but the thing is, I can’t appreciate how pretty it looks when I’m stuck in my flat unable to go outside without slipping.

Other thing that makes me want to lock myself in: Christmas markets. I know I’m supposed to love them but they just remind me of Germany. The streets are busier than Les Champs-élysées and full of tiny kids running all over the place.

It’s that time again where it’s cold and dark all the time. By the time I wake up I only have a couple of hours left before everything becomes darkness again. Which completely messes up my internal clock. If I was to do what my body wants, I’d eat my dinner at 6pm go for a drink at 7.30pm and hope to be in bed by 10pm. Basically I would avoid the next 40 years of my life and jump to being 70.

But it’s also lights and red and green everything and reindeer and Christmas spirit whether you want it or not.

I’ve heard three Game of Thrones addicts repeating that winter is coming. It’s already here.