In my opinion, Halloween has become yet another insignificant, overly commercialized holiday. Call me ridiculous, delusional, anything you want. The truth is, I am not the candy-eating, costume-loving, overexcited trick-or-treater that I once was. For me, Halloween has lost its mysteriousness, magic and charm. It pains me to say that choosing a costume has become a bore. Helping to decorate my house has become an afterthought. Just thinking about buying countless packages of Skittles and Fuzzy Peaches for trick-or-treaters makes me nauseous. I keep telling myself that I don’t have time to dress up. I don’t have time to buy pumpkins and carve jack-o-lanterns. Worst of all, I honestly can’t be bothered to turn on the porch lights and distribute candy on Halloween night.
It’s accurate to say that I have become the Halloween version of Scrooge. I would much rather curl up in a ball on my bed than be faced with the toothless grins of elementary school children clutching brightly-coloured candy bags. In my head, I begin criticizing parents for allowing their kids to indulge in so much sugary goodness.
It’s difficult to explain why I’ve become so disillusioned about Halloween, seeing as it used to be one of my favourite holidays. When I was younger, I used to carefully plan my costumes, ensuring that I wasn’t some sort of Disney princess two years in a row. I always looked forward to trick-or-treating with my sister because we would sit around the kitchen table admiring our spoils at the end of the night. The next morning, I would wake up and pick a Coffee Crisp bar from my candy bag to put in my school lunch (am I the only person who loved Coffee Crisps as a child?). In some ways, I miss those days. I miss the excitement of Halloween, and I hope that I will someday rediscover its magic.