As a kid, Halloween was a time for fun, candy and costumes. It meant being creative and silly in whatever costume you wore that year. Eating a lot of candy that you usually wouldn’t eat was a highlight for many. For me, Halloween was about hanging out with friends past a specific time. Halloween was a time that excited me: something that I looked forward to every year. Once I hit middle school, this perfect night would soon turn sour in my mind.
I have multiple friends who have birthdays around Halloween and one whose birthday is right on Halloween. Once I got into high school, my Halloween night consisted of a birthday party. It was rude to decline the invitation since it was their birthday, but sometimes instead of sitting around opening presents and eating cake, I wanted to go out like everyone else.
Now, every group of friends has that one house where they would always hang out, and for my friends and me, that house was mine. Most of my friends had younger siblings who still went out trick-or-treating, so their birthday parties were thrown at my house. I didn’t mind doing this because I had more control over what was happening.
As the years went on, little things started to annoy me. It was automatically assumed that their birthday was occurring at my house and that my parents were alright with it. I never received a thank you for all the time and energy I put into decorating and baking for the party. Nor did I ever get any help except from my own family. By grade 11, I hated Halloween. A day that was supposed to be fun and carefree quickly turned into a day full of hurt feelings and sadness.
When I finally decided to stand up for my feelings, I was met with anger and confusion. My friends were confused why I would feel that way, as they thought I had been doing this out of the kindness of my heart. They had no idea that I was looking for thanks and that I needed help. When I told them that nobody in the last few years had even asked to help me, they were angry that I didn’t express that need.
I was left heartbroken for years, as I always thought it was my fault that I felt that way. Now looking back, I realize that it was not entirely my fault. I should have stood up for myself sooner and expressed that I needed some help, but my friends were also to blame. I don’t have one good memory of Halloween. It was always something I hated and never wanted to happen. The fun and creative side of Halloween was something I never experienced all because of a birthday party.
As an adult, I realize that I can make new memories that will turn that whole idea of Halloween back to what it was supposed to be.