There’s something about Christmas in Dublin – said nobody ever. While sure, maybe there is the charm of streets fashioned in multicolored lights, occasional Christmas tree lightings, cozy pubs adorned with tinsel, the Brown Thomas Christmas display, and of course, the seasonally justifiable excuse to day drink. But, for the Dublin student population, it is this, yet somehow so much more occupies the mind. 

It’s as though we’ve just wrapped up our Friendsgiving festivities – the semester-defining gatherings where half the table isn’t even American and couldn’t identify the Mayflower even if it floated past the Pav. It’s the unofficial “last supper,” a meal that reliably produces more drama than genuine friend group gratitude, yet we still treat it like an annual ritual that will be featured on our Instagram stories. But now, we’ve promptly switched gears. We’ve reached the best stretch of the semester, the final sprint before a month-long break. Everyone has started layering sweaters and quietly hibernating as the sun sinks toward four in the afternoon. With daylight disappearing at record speed, our motivation to study seems to shrink even faster. And somehow, at the same time, our collective restlessness only heightens.

So the question remains: do we give in to the “Christmassy” indulgence of overpriced cocoa, markets, and mulled wine, or do we surrender to full academic isolation? 6-hour Ussher study sessions, all-nighters supplied by caffeine, 24 hr Spar runs, and allotting yourself 20 minutes to find a library spot have seamlessly integrated into our routine. 

This seasonal crossroads is captured surprisingly well by Justin Bieber’s 2011 song Mistletoe. The song becomes a soft soundtrack on loop for every girl who wants to believe that winter magic can coexist with essays, exams, and the emotional turmoil and ever-so-pending crashout. So we neglect responsibilities and allow Justin Bieber to be our holiday mantra and motivation. 

Maybe your holiday season feels more dramatic than usual this year. Eager to end exams, you might be secretly thrilled to go home and see that hometown ex or to stretch out your winter fling through December. This time of year sets everything up perfectly. You get to test the waters, stay cozy, and avoid defining whatever “this” is because you are too distracted with all the semester events, activities, and commitments. The high of Butler’s hot chocolate, late-night Christmas films, ice skating, and brisk sunset walks strangely amplifies the cinematic and exciting feel. 

For those who simply want something to make the day feel more exciting, mistletoe becomes an accomplice. Suddenly, every doorway and flat entrance turns into an opportunity to flirt,  make a move, or gauge the true nature of a “friendship.” Should you be entertaining these distractions while exams loom? Probably not. But all the better excuses to keep the energy going and lean into the simple, untamed impulse of yours. It is this exact chaos you and the friend group desperately need. Mistletoe becomes everyone’s new best friend, becoming less a decoration and more a strategic social device. It hangs above doorways and apartment thresholds like an invitation to test boundaries. A playful pretext that blurs the line between amusement and intent. `

It’s ironic how a hemiparasitic plant that hangs above a doorway has become synonymous with love or the possibility of it. Since when did a shrub mean romance and stand as the haunting emblem between you and your situationship, between you and that one close guy friend, or just another forgotten lover?  But, for all the excitement mistletoe provides, it is also something many of us live in constant fear of.  Who knows where you’ll be next, or when you will be greeted or inevitably coerced by its social weight. Perhaps mistletoe isn’t about love at all, but the emotional loophole we desperately need in an age where everyone is terrified of making the first move. We lack the impulsive, yet romantic and daring gestures we’ve come to only expect in romcoms now. Instead, we retreat to unnecessary emotional buildup and failed talking stages. We suppress our own feelings in favor for other “priorities” and settle for ignoring the inevitable sexual tension in the room, hoping that the feelings will eventually dissipate, but soon realizing months later they never truly do. We would rather fantasise about the possibilities with this pending crush than do anything about it. Even when your friends have convinced you that it is, in fact, mutual, still, your qualms linger. We all so desperately fear rejection we would just rather not experience anything at all than face the social and soul damaging moment of in person rejection. No one wants to confess brewing feelings, so now conveniently enough  we outsource the responsibility to a plant, and to that we should be grateful. Now, at least one season of the year we can neglect the unspoken social norms and doomed expectation to “don’t act on your crush” and instead, we can turn to mistletoe.  Mistletoe becomes a botanical scapegoat -the thing we blame for decisions we like to pretend we’d make anyway, even though we absolutely wouldn’t without it hanging overhead.