Buttkickin’ Holiday Songs: “It Doesn’t Have To Be That Way” — Jim Croce (1973)

I cannot even begin to overstate my love of Jim Croce’s voice, music, and storytelling. A master songwriter, musician, balladeer, and raconteur, Croce could zero in on the nuances of the human condition in ways with both pinpoint accuracy and musical excellence.

Even more, Croce knew how to write sadness, I mean really write the depths of heartbreak, without drowning in it. The type of sadness that sits down with you and empathizes, rather than the type that devastates your heart and deserts you to deal with it after three or four minutes.

It Doesn’t Have to Be That Way is one of his most beautiful gut punches, and it happens to unfold during Christmas. No coziness, bells, or cheer to be found in this one. Just a man walking alone through streets filled with carols, lights, decorations, and surrounded by throngs who seem to have somewhere to go.

The season is doing what it always does, of course. But he just can’t feel any of it.

Croce sings this from the inside of a breakup. He is confused more than angry. I mean sure, there’s always a tinge of bitterness, but the loneliness is the real protagonist here. He sings as someone who just can’t figure out how things fell apart… or why it had to happen at all.

So that gap between what’s happening to his broken heart, and what he still hopes and believes could be true? That’s the real ache of It Doesn’t Have To Be That Way.

The song’s title is a powerfully heartfelt plea.

From note one, it never stops moving. The acoustic guitar has a steady, almost jaunty rhythm that feels at odds with the lyrics. There’s a gentle beauty that underscores the heartache.

And that’s the contrast that really drives the point home here. Life keeps going even when you are stuck in place by an aching soul. Christmas keeps happening even when you can’t happen. The delicate melody marches on while the narrator lags behind, and that emotional tension gives the song its quiet but undeniably tremendous power.

Croce’s songs always feel so damn honest. It Doesn’t Have To Be That Way is no exception whatsoever. Can anyone not relate to loneliness during a season that insists on togetherness? Christmas can amplify joy, but it also sharpens absence.

When you’re alone at Christmas, the music feels louder, the twinkling lights are blinding, and the reminders of an empty season are everywhere. And the song doesn’t fight it. Croce allows the discomfort to sit there in plain view.

And yet, the song refuses to wallow in despair. The loneliness is very real, but it also ain’t final. Croce does not accept misery as inexorable. He believes there is still a way back to reconciliation, to understand, and to a full heart. What was broken can still be repaired. That belief may be fragile, but it’s there.

And that is the line the song walks so carefully. It Doesn’t Have to Be That Way is Christmas without consolation, but not without hope. Never without hope. And maybe that’s the best gift ever.