I’m going to be upfront and say I’m a bit of a complicated individual: I love fall and autumn, but I loathe Halloween. That’s right. Why, you ask? Because I am big scaredy cat, that’s why. Horror movies? No thanks. Ghost tours? I’ll pass. Haunted hay rides? Excuse me while I run home and never come back. And GOD FORBID something in a mask approaches me – I’m probably going to cry. I’ve hated this holiday since I was a toddler. Hell, I was terrified and traumatized by the Big Bird at Perkins when I was about four. And it only got worse as I aged.
Every year, my class mates would get excited for their Halloween costumes, argue over who would be scarier and who could pull off wearing the most fake blood. Me? I altered my costumes between princesses and fifties poodle skirts (one year I was a SkyDancer – coolest costume on the block). But once I got to the fifth grade, I didn’t want to go trick-or-treating anymore. I was not motivated by free candy or getting to dress up. I preferred to stay home.
In high school, I never dressed up or went to Halloween parties because I hated masks and people creeping up on me. All of my friends would go out trick-or-treating and I would hang out at home watching The Great Pumpkin for the umpteenth time, because that was the only Halloween movie that didn’t traumatize me. I would wear an orange sweater and answer the door for the kids in the neighborhood. College was no different. I went to one of the campus-wide Halloween parties in my four years there, dressed as Belle, but couldn’t drink or hang out too much because that was the year I was on Res Life staff. Womp womp.
As an adult, I find Halloween even more of a nuisance because I’m not exactly fond of children, especially creepy dressed-up children. The past few years, I’ve even turned off the porch and front lights in my house at 7pm because I just couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to be left alone with my wine and the couch. I still don’t go out or go to parties when Halloween time arrives. Honestly, it’s no different than the usual trek to the club: girls dressed in trampy outfits downing shots of god knows what, while guys continue to be creepy, just more outwardly so. Oh, except girls are wearing cat ears and it’s social acceptable. No thank you.
I just don’t get Halloween, I suppose. For the cost of a costume, I can go out and buy ten bags of Reese’s cups, eat them alone on my couch, and not have to ask for them. I also know they’re not drugged or laced or otherwise contaminated. This makes much more sense.
Okay, there is one part of Halloween I enjoy, and it’s the same part of Valentine’s Day I enjoy: National Half-Price Chocolate Day. That’s something I can get on board with.