There comes a point every January when society collectively asks: “So… you still have your tree up?” It’s the same tone people use when asking if you’re still binge-watching a show from 2014 or still eating leftover holiday cookies. A blend of curiosity, judgement, and a dash of admiration.

But yes. Yes, I do still have my Christmas tree up. And yes, I am contemplating how long this situation will continue. Look: I love Christmas trees. I love them in the way some people love fall foliage or that first cold brew of the summer. They bring me joy, sparkle, and a glow that does not require expensive therapy lighting.

I also invest in the good fake trees. The ones that snap together like Transformers and promise to last forever. Forever trees. Immortal trees. Trees that laugh in the face of seasonal norms. And when you have an immortal tree, time becomes irrelevant. January? February? March? Who’s keeping track? Certainly not me.

And this year, I’ve taken it a step further. I have a pink tree at work. Yes, a bubblegum-pink, Pepto-Bismol-adjacent tree that started as my festive office cheer dispenser. But as January drags on  (and I do mean drags) I find myself thinking that this little pink delight can pivot right into Valentine’s décor. Hearts? Easy. Pink ornaments? Already there. Add a paper cupid? Done. I am basically running a year-round tree program, and it thrills me.

Because honestly? January is long. Emotionally long. Physically long. Time-without-oxygen long. And for some of us, it’s a month of heavy anniversaries and losses. It’s a month we survive more than celebrate. So if a string of lights and a plastic fir helps me get through the emotional ice bath of the post-holiday slump, let me have my tree. Let us all have our trees. Keep them up till Valentine’s Day. Keep them up till spring. Keep them up until Beyoncé tells us otherwise.

Some people meditate; I plug in LEDs.

Some people journal; I fluff branches.

Some people do yoga; I place ornaments just so and call it joy.

So yes. I am contemplating when to take the tree down. But contemplating is not committing. And in this house (and office), we are all about prolonging the joy where and when we find it.

After all, the world needs more glow. And I’m determined to keep mine shining a little longer.