Stuff. Glorious Stuff.
Fresh thoughts for Christmas

Christmas can so easily become all about the stuff. The things we buy, the pressure to make everything bigger, better, more impressive. We’ve been led to believe that the more you buy, the more you love, that the bigger the pile of presents under the tree, the more our children will feel adored. But the other day, I had the loveliest conversation with my nine-year-old son that reminded me how untrue that really is.
We were talking about the love languages, something I didn’t discover until well into my thirties and honestly, the discovery was an emotional game-changer for me. It helped me understand not just how I give love, but how I receive it… and how different that can be from the people closest to us.
There are five love languages, five ways we feel and show love:
Acts of Service – doing things to help or support someone.
Words of Affirmation – expressing love through kind words, praise, encouragement.
Quality Time – giving someone your full attention, sharing moments, being fully present.
Physical Touch – showing affection through hugs, closeness, holding hands.
Receiving Gifts – feeling loved through thoughtful gestures or presents, big or small.
You basically learn your love language from your parents. You might be all-in on one, or a blend of a few. It reminds me of that Alanis Morissette lyric: “I want ten thousand spoons when all I need is a knife.” You can give everything you have to someone, but if you’re not speaking their language, they might not feel loved at all.
There are quizzes that can help you figure out your love language, but honestly, it’s simple: go through the list and ask yourself, What can’t I live without? That’s your clue.
And now, as a mum, talking about love languages with my own children, I’m reminded that love isn’t measured in the number of things we give, but in how well we understand each other. Back to Freddie — he’s all about hugs and quality time. Of course, time is every child’s love language; they just want to be with you, every minute if they could.
Many years ago, a relationship therapist asked me a question that stopped me in my tracks: “How often do you ask your partner, ‘What do you need from me to feel loved?’” At the time, I wasn’t asking. I was assuming. I kept giving love in the way I understood it but it wasn’t the way he could receive it. And he was doing the same. We were both trying (well, I was!), both missing.
I’m tactile by nature and I love a hug. To me, physical touch is comfort and connection. But often when I went to hug him, he’d say, “Stop leaning on me!” Our love languages were completely mismatched. We were speaking different emotional dialects. Needless to say, that relationship was never going to work but the lesson stayed with me. Knowing your love language and being able to express it is key to a loving relationship where you feel understood.
Fast forward ten years, and I now have a wonderful husband who speaks the same language. You cannot wrap that gift. We are without the children this Christmas, so we’ve decided to take ourselves away to a lovely hotel for a couple of nights. No manic panic-buying. No buying things we could easily buy for ourselves. Just quality time together, our love language.
Maybe this Christmas, instead of buying do something for someone, pop round and bake a cake, fix a gate, help with a job they’ve been putting off. Or write a good old-fashioned letter, something heartfelt and honest, especially for older family members who need nothing but might love to hear kind, meaningful words. Or take someone out for the day. Give them your time. Those things often mean far more than something wrapped in paper.
As a family, we’ve never done presents for the elders or adults and honestly, it’s such a relief. No pressure. No forced buying. Just simplicity. It can feel strange at first, but honestly, who actually needs an American-commercialised day to tell them to buy a gift for a loved one?
So this year, I wonder…
Could you step off the buying-loads-of-stuff train?
Or maybe move into a different carriage, the one where you buy less, or buy thoughtfully, or buy sustainably?
Or quite simply… step off the train altogether. Stand on the platform, watch that manic Christmas express roar past, and instead tell someone you love them with a hug, a handwritten letter, a quiet moment together. Because at the end of the day, the stuff doesn’t matter. What matters is who you loved, and how deeply you loved them.





