What It's Like Being the Biggest Loser of a Security Guard
The Reality of the Job
Being a security guard at Christmas means experiencing the holidays through glass you can't touch. You get the shifts nobody wants, Christmas Eve overnight, Christmas Day morning, New Year's Eve. You're patrolling empty buildings that are usually full of life, and the silence is deafening. Your footsteps echo differently. The fluorescent lights feel harsher. Everyone else is somewhere that matters.
The "Christmas loser" title isn't about failure. It settles on you quietly when you realize you're spending another December 25th in uniform instead of pajamas.
What Actually Hurts
It's not the physical work, it's the missed moments. You're not there when your kid opens the big present. You're not in the family photos. Eventually, people stop asking if you're coming because the answer has been "no" for three years running.
You see the pitying looks from the cleaning crew who are also working. Your phone lights up with family group chat photos of everyone together. You're scrolling through social media seeing decorated trees and matching pajamas while doing another perimeter check.
There's a peculiar guilt in resenting a job you chose. You know someone has to do it. You know the paycheck matters. But that knowledge doesn't stop the sting.
How Guards Cope
Some lean into dark humor about being Santa's security detail. Others create tiny traditions—a small desk tree in the office, Christmas music on low during rounds, treating themselves to expensive coffee on Christmas morning.
The veterans learn to reframe it: "I'm keeping people safe so they can enjoy their holidays." It's not untrue, but it feels thin at 4 AM in an empty parking garage.
Why They Stay
Here's the complicated part: many could leave and find another job. But this work keeps their family afloat, even if it means missing celebrations. The pay is consistent. The hours are guaranteed. And for some, leaving feels like admitting defeat. At least here, they're needed, even if being needed means being lonely.
The Uncomfortable Truth
Society needs people to work on Christmas. Hospitals, emergency services, security, these don't pause for holidays. But we rarely acknowledge the emotional cost. We don't think about the security guard until something goes wrong, and we certainly don't think about them on Christmas morning.
Being the "biggest Christmas loser" of a security guard isn't about poor choices. It's about being in a position where duty and desire constantly clash. You're visible enough to see what you're missing but invisible enough that nobody notices you missing it.