'Tis the season FOR FLYING SOLO

Camilla Collins is looking forward to spending the most joyful day of the year all by herself

- Camilla Collins

Aaah, Christmas.

That magical time of joy, wonder and goodwill to all mankind. But is it, really? Surely I can't be the only person to find being rammed into confined places with extended family, lame decorations and all the enforced cheerfulness rather tense? Less 'peace on earth', more 'silent relative rage,' perhaps?

Throw in copious amounts of booze which (let's be honest) is necked more to 'take the edge off' than in celebration. And it's no surprise everyone ends up ruddy-cheeked in wonky paper hats, hissing at each other over burnt parsnips while perched on the wobbly table extender dragged out for special occasions.

I realise I sound like the Grinch, but come on, can't Christmas be hell?

All the festivities are so geared around couples and families. It's the season of love - of little blue Tiffany boxes, kisses under the mistletoe, families decorating trees together, dads dressed as Santa, mums stuffing stockings and sugar-hyped children in awe of it all.

The romantic in me adores all of this, but at 37 and with no partner or children of my own, it's not the easiest day. Which is why this year, I'm totally opting out. Please don't pity me, I've received kind invitations, which I've politely (yet firmly) declined. And I've told my family that for once I'm spending the day my way. Just me and the dogs, thank you. I haven't always been anti-Christmas. Growing up in north London, I too was filled with excitement as a kid. But my parents split up when I was aged 14. We always still had family Christmases after their divorce, which I realise must have been an effort for them and an act of love towards me, but that doesn't mean it was always comfortable.

Family tensions