I Was a Sick Victorian Child on Halloween

I was supposed to be the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland for my first Halloween. I had my white baby-doll dress in my closet, and my Elizabethan ruff collar from Etsy came just in time! I even had a cute necklace with the words “drink me” as an ode to all the wacky stuff happening in Wonderland. Unfortunately, I went home, found out I had bronchitis, and spent the entire weekend in bed coughing my guts out. 

I grew up in a very religious household where we didn’t celebrate Halloween, so all my life I watched the other kids have fun and get free candy. I’d been waiting years to find out what all the fuss was about. At 20, I finally had plans with friends and an excuse to take a costume way too seriously. I’d even written an article about niche Halloween costumes and told everyone I was “practically bouncing off the walls with exhilaration.” In hindsight, announcing my excitement in print was probably what jinxed my fate. 

I kept thinking I’d feel better in time to go out. Surely the universe could grant me one evening of good health in exchange for all the Octobers I’d sat out? Then I went to the doctor and got my bronchitis diagnosis, which pretty much settled the matter. My mother made me chicken noodle soup, my dog Bambi curled up beside me, and I felt about seven years old again. There were little specks of joy that weekend, and most of them happened right there in my childhood bed, in the brief intervals when I could cuddle my dog without interrupting us both with a coughing fit.

The thing I’d been looking forward to most was getting ready with my friends. I wanted to take pictures we’d laugh at later and spend half the night explaining my costume to people who’d understandably assume I was just a rabbit in a weird collar. I also wanted to go trick-or-treating. I’m in my 20s, but when exactly was I supposed to get it out of my system?

I had midterms on the Monday and Tuesday after Halloweekend, and going out for Halloween was supposed to be my one night to think about candy before I went back to studying. It was such an ordinary night to want, which somehow made it worse to miss. I’d had years to imagine what my first Halloween would be like, and now I have another year to wait (woe is me).

I later found out my roommates had drawn a little stick figure of me and took it around with them on Halloween (shout-out to Aimee and Mirabelle, the best roommates I could ever ask for). I found this sweet and a little sad, because my first thought was, I should’ve been there! Yet, I’m so grateful they thought about bringing me along, and I’m genuinely happy my little stick figure was out and about while I was at home on my deathbed. 

I’m still pretty disappointed I missed my first Halloween. I’d waited years to celebrate, and I think I’m allowed to be melodramatic about bronchitis getting in the way. After all my complaining, I’m glad I went home and gave myself the weekend to rest. I try my best to look at the positive side of situations, and there’s always next year. And if I get impatient, there’s always Summerween. I will get the Halloween I deserve at some point (hopefully). 

Signing off,
Maritza

• candy
• college
• costume
• friends
• halloween
• style