The peculiar week between Christmas Day and New Year's Eve is now upon us, a time often described as a strange twilight zone. For many Australians, this period is filled with leftover ham, forgotten weekdays, and family gatherings. But for others, it's marked by quiet solitude and a nagging sense of missing out.
The Lonely Reality of the Festive Twilight Zone
Charlton Hart, writing for The West Australian on Friday, 26 December 2025, confronts this experience head-on. He acknowledges that while social media floods with images of perfect family moments, the reality for many is starkly different. It can be a time of quiet reflection, or for some, a period of intense loneliness where questions about self-worth and belonging surface.
Hart writes not from a place of judgment, but from shared experience. He recalls a time spent alone in a sticky rental in Tamworth, NSW, the country music capital, during a past festive season. Separated from family by a six-hour flight and unable to afford the trip home or secure time off work, he found himself isolated.
"I hadn't had the chance to make friends amid the chaotic, messy, expensive, and logistical nightmare that is modern life," he writes, describing meals that were "80 per cent carbohydrates and 20 per cent self-pity." The constant scroll through friends' holiday photos only deepened the feeling of having failed at a basic human need: connection.
Reframing Solitude as a Blank Page, Not an Indictment
The core message Hart delivers is a powerful one: solitude is not a measure of your worth. He urges readers to put down the "mental bat" of self-contempt. The silence and space that others might fill with chaotic family negotiations can be reframed as a rare commodity—peace and autonomy.
"While everyone else is currently arguing over who has to wash the roasting pan, you have the rarest commodity of all: peace," Hart states. This period becomes a blank page, an opportunity to define the week on your own terms, free from social obligations.
Practical Permission for an Unconventional New Year
Hart offers liberating, practical advice for those facing a quiet New Year's Eve. He gives full permission to create a personal celebration that defies conventional expectations. His suggestions include spending the evening re-watching a favourite series and eating cheese in your underwear (with the blinds closed, of course), or even driving to the beach at midnight for a cathartic scream at the ocean—with a considerate note to not wake the touchy locals in Scarborough.
The underlying theme is one of self-compassion and resilience. Navigating a disconnected world, especially during a period hyper-focused on togetherness, is an achievement in itself. "The fact that you are here, reading this, getting through it. That's resilience," he affirms. His final message is a simple, powerful reminder: "You are valuable. You are enough, exactly as you are."
He signs off with a quintessential Australian tip for the holiday period: "Eat the good chocolate out of the Favourites box first and bin the Cherry Ripes. You deserve it."
