Xmas/Giftmas is my worst nostalgia-related thing. I have such fond memories at a distance, but when I try to examine things too closely, the pain comes. I've pretty much completely reworked how I approach the holiday, but before I was honest with myself, I had all kinds of trouble. It was probably fine when I was really young, but the older I got, the weirder it got. While I was in it, it just seemed to be the way it was, but from this far away, I finally started recognizing the hurtful things for what they really were, and only started feeling the pain then instead of when it happened.
Sorry if that's too rambly. We did traditional stuff like trees and stockings, and I still have fond memories of that, but there was a long, long stretch of time when I got the impression from my family that I was kind of an afterthought. I would go out of my way to find great presents, and wrap them up nicely, but there wasn't a lot of reciprocation. I was going to write out some examples, but it's probably only interesting to me. (There was that year that I only had 1 gift to open, sitting in my own living room. My dad left my gift at home and even though I had been told that there were two presents coming from the rest of the family, there was just one - a board game.) I was relieved that Shaw saw it, when he came along, and was bothered by everyone's blasé attitude about me. Until then, I wasn't sure if I was imagining it or not, or if my expectations were too high. He had some words with my family (and told me about it later) and things started improving. Exchanging presents is one of my favorite things about the holiday. I still love finding the right gift and wrapping it up nicely, but I restrain myself. I'm not awfully materialistic, but I do try and remember how people have handled gifts to me in the past, so I don't overdo it.