Christmas gifting is supposed to be magical, right? Cozy blankets, twinkling lights, that perfect present that makes someone say, “Wow, you really get me.” But what happens when you don’t even know what you are to someone? Because let me tell you, I found myself standing in a Target aisle clutching a blanket for a man whose quilt was—brace yourself—left at another girl’s house.
This is the problem with being in a no-label situation during the holidays. What do you do? Do you pretend it’s not happening and show up giftless, only to feel awkward when they hand you a pair of socks? Or do you risk looking too serious by buying something thoughtful, like, I don’t know, a blanket to replace the one that still has her perfume on it? Spoiler: I went with the blanket. Bigger spoiler: I immediately regretted it.
Because here’s the thing: No label, no gift. That’s the rule I promised myself I’d follow this year. If we haven’t defined what we are, then I am not spending my hard-earned cash and emotional energy picking out something for you. But apparently, all it took to break my resolve was the tragic story of his quilt’s “accidental” abandonment. Honestly, who loses a whole quilt? Was it a “forget it on purpose” situation? Did he casually leave it behind like an emotional breadcrumb? And why was I swooping in like some kind of festive rescue ranger?
I handed him the blanket with a smile that said, “I am the better woman.” You know what he said? “Thanks! This is great… but I’ll probably get my quilt back soon anyway.” Oh. Will you? Because that feels like her problem, not mine.
Here’s what I realized as I sat there watching him toss my thoughtful gift onto his couch like it was just another throw blanket from a gas station: If someone can’t label what you mean to them, they don’t deserve the love and effort you pour into Christmas gifting. Period. No label means no clarity. No clarity means no commitment. And no commitment means you should save your time and money for someone who doesn’t lose bedding at other people’s houses.
So, if you’re caught in a similar no-label nightmare this holiday season, do yourself a favor. Buy a gift for yourself instead. Wrap up your own Christmas magic and leave him with his “eventually.” Because honestly, if he can’t even keep track of a quilt, how’s he going to handle you?
Merry Christmas, fellow hot messes. Let’s make this the season of giving… to ourselves.
“Confessions of a Hot Mess” is taking a well-deserved break, but don’t worry—we’ll be back, along with all your favorite Nevada Sagebrush content, after the holiday break. Stay tuned for more hot takes, messy moments, and everything in between! See you soon!
Confessions of a Hot Mess is a candid and relatable column by Emily Hess, where she dives into the highs and lows of navigating college life and your twenties. Through personal stories about boys, friendships, love and family, COHM unpacks the messy, beautiful chaos of growing up. From heartbreaks and betrayals to moments of self-discovery, she offers an honest look at the challenges and triumphs that come with this transformative time in life. Each week, readers can expect raw insights, witty anecdotes and reflections on the messy process of becoming.
Confessions of a Hot Mess is the personal work of Emily Hess. The opinions expressed in this column, as well as those published in The Nevada Sagebrush, are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Sagebrush or its staff. Hess is a student at the University of Nevada studying journalism. She can be reached at emilyhess@sagebrush.unr.edu and on Twitter @emilyghess3.
