The Gift I Didn’t Expect This Christmas
It Wasn’t Wrapped in Paper or Tied with a Bow, But in the Freedom to Fail
Dear Friends,
This year, I found myself under the Christmas tree with no gift box to open. It wasn’t that I hadn’t received anything—I’d already unwrapped all the presents I bought for myself. I couldn’t wait. But as I watched others joyfully scurry around, finding the perfect gifts for their loved ones, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. It was as if the magic of Christmas had somehow passed me by.
The thought crossed my mind: Should I buy a gift for my husband and myself? But when I tried to think of what I truly wanted, the answer eluded me. I had already treated myself to so many wonderful things and countless other treasures that I’ve long dreamed of owning.
Yet, despite all these gifts, I couldn’t ignore the feeling of not wanting anything more. Not in the way I expected to. There was something deeper, a sense of longing that didn’t have anything to do with material things. My inner child felt neglected, unsatisfied. I had everything I thought I wanted, but something inside me was quietly saying, “It’s not enough.”
On Christmas Day, we went to the supermarket to pick up a special meal, but the idea of an extravagant feast didn’t appeal to me. Even though I could have indulged in a roast or foie gras—luxuries I usually crave—nothing seemed to stir excitement. I didn’t feel the need to treat myself. And yet, there it was: the heaviness, the unshakable feeling that something was missing.
I took a moment to ask myself, What do I really want? What does my inner child want? In the silence, I heard her voice, trembling, fragile—yet loud enough to cut through the noise. “I want something,” she whispered.
She continued, “I want the freedom to express, to try, and to fail. Don’t put a price on my mistakes. Don’t let the fear of failure stop me from growing. Will my learning process cost you too much?”
Tears welled in my eyes. In that moment, I realized the Christmas gift I truly needed wasn’t something wrapped in paper or tied with a bow—it was the permission to play, to explore, and to fail.
This year, I had been experimenting with creating videos using AI. Each experiment came at a cost—both financially and emotionally. I hired an AI artist to bring my ideas to life, but the results didn’t align with my vision. I tried different AI tools, each of them requiring a monetary investment, and each time, I felt a sense of hesitation. I didn’t mind paying for something that worked, but the fear of wasting money on something that didn’t work kept me paralyzed.
I realized that my fear of failure, of wasting money, was keeping me stuck. I wouldn’t let myself experiment or take risks unless I knew for sure it would work. But how could I know if something would work unless I took the leap and tried?
And then, I made a decision. Enough. I told myself that this Christmas, I would stop letting the fear of spending and failing hold me back. I would give myself the freedom to experiment, to fail, and to learn without worrying about the costs or the outcome.
This Christmas, I gave myself the gift of freedom—the freedom to explore, to create, and to be imperfect. To embrace the journey, even when the end result is uncertain.
Merry Christmas to me—and to all of you who might need to hear this message: give yourself permission to dream, to try, and to fail. It’s not the material gifts that bring joy; it’s the courage to be vulnerable and the freedom to grow.
Warmly,
Lalita Janette