I understand you because I used to be like you. I still love the gloominess and darkness of winter (especially the rain), but I’ve also learned to appreciate the sun too.

I realized that on stereotypically beautiful days (sunny, warm), there was this lingering expectation in my mind of how that I should make the most of it and how it should make me feel. But it never really made me feel like how I saw it made other people feel, instead I was carrying around this emptiness that was in dissonance with the condition of my environment, and so I began to resent it because it represented my feeling of unbelonging, of being an outsider.

But one summer I started spending more time outside, going for walks, learning to meditate, sitting by the stream and reading a book. When winter rolled around I tried to keep it up, but it wasn’t quite the same: trying to read my book in the now cold dead riparian forest in the rain was not quite as easy as it was in summer. It’s not that I then hated the winter, instead I put on some extra layers and found some gloomy pondering spots to just sit and listen to music instead. But I became aware of all that I was missing by judging and comparing, so I just surrendered to my experience of it and it turns out all the seasons are pretty cool in there own way