Halloween is my hard pass
Why it’s okay to hate the thing everyone else loves
Being a woman of a certain age in October 2025 means social feeds flooded with guides to getting “cozy” and “Anne of Green Gables” quotes and suggestions to rewatch “Gilmore Girls” and recipes for making elaborate caramel apples or whatever. I’ve learned, however, that the line between “pretend you’re drinking that PSL at Luke’s Diner” and “double down on cobweb decoration while planning your full family — dogs included — Halloween costumes” is actually a very thick and unscalable wall for me personally.
I hate Halloween.
I don’t even have a real reason.
The thing is, I LOVE holidays. I love theme parties. I love reasons to celebrate. I will invent reasons to celebrate and create holidays out of nothing. But something about Halloween is just so far from my jam.
It’s certainly not any kind of childhood trauma. Other than suburban Philadelphia always being just cold enough on October 31 to necessitate a coat over your costume, I wasn’t super miserable. One brother did convince me to give him all my candy two years in a row, but, honestly that was a learning experience. My childhood best friend had a late October birthday so I’ve done a million haunted hayrides and always had a blast. Naturally, I love “Hocus Pocus” and would put Winifred on my vision board of women I aspire to be like, if I ever made said vision board.
One year Jeff tried to convince me to go to a Halloween party and be Gilligan to his Skipper.
The hosts got in some big fight upstairs so we ended up setting up the party with another couple, heating up snacks, and getting ice. Not a great time but also not a reason to dislike the holiday.
I’m not even sure I remember when I started feeling this way — perhaps it was while I was in New York when the energy and the hours of the holiday simply exceeded my ability to participate in a meaningful way and I found it easier to opt out? I did work for an agency that had a mandatory fall outing to an apple orchard where I learned that fresh apple cider = all the bees in the land. Fortunately, I wasn’t the one who got stung and discovered an allergy requiring a hospital run.
Some of it has to be that I’ve never been a costume person; even in my years of mediocre to subpar parts in community children’s theater, I was never a fan. Although, I’m not sure anyone loves their “Oompa Loompa” costume. My mother didn’t believe in store bought costumes growing up and I (and she) lacked the kind of artistic skills to create anything great — my crafting skills haven’t improved since. I also read once that the entire “Capturing the Friedmans” documentary came about because they were looking into adult clowns and while I can’t fully explain the connection my brain makes, it’s enough to make me suspicious of anyone who gets too enthusiastic about costumes.
Suddenly, we were in our 30s and all in on family or pet costumes. In the divorce, Jeff’s ex-wife took all the holidays except Father’s Day and, unlike Thanksgiving/Christmas where we did full holiday recreation, we never did a fake Halloween so I never got to do the “cute kids in costume” and “adults go trick or treating with cute kids in tow” thing. And despite having toy poodles who cartoons have told us love to wear clothes, I ended up with two animals who do everything possible to either remove said outfit or look so miserable I feel terrible and cave.
I’m actually a bit jealous that the dogs are able to honestly convey their dislike while I still feel some kind of elder millennial guilt for putting exponentially more effort into Bastille Day than Halloween. Apparently, my distaste for the holiday is yet another thing that puts me out of alignment with my peers since there’s a 50% increase in the number of adults celebrating Halloween from 2005 to 2025 which is extra shocking because in these past two decades, we’ve also discovered there’s way better candy to be had than what’s coming in that Reese’s variety pack.
Part of the issue is that I’m truly allergic to being a downer: rule #1 in our house, critical with teens and young adults who are all in different phases of their journeys navigating depression, is uppers can be downstairs but downers need to be upstairs. If you’re going to be a killjoy, leave the rest of us alone. I hate that for this handful of weeks/one night, I’m dressed as Negative Nancy instead of getting into it and wearing some over the top witch costume.
This whole site is about Stepping In It, but sometimes the best choice is to step aside when you can’t bring your A-game and, later, take a bigger step forward when you can. Even if your entire demographic is going all in on professional porch pumpkin concierges (because $1400 on artfully arranged piles of pumpkins is now its own business), you can acknowledge that orange is a horrible color on you (it is) and just wait for November 1 when Mariah Carey tells us “it’s time” and you can lean into the reds and emerald greens you were born to wear.
That said, this is my one major holiday opt out — I can’t do that with any others or it’s the fast train to downer town. Halloween is easily avoided: it’s one night. But we’re about to enter the holiday season gauntlet where opting out isn’t really an option, where blended family logistics meet workplace dynamics meet extended family drama meet the impossible expectation that you’ll create magic for teenagers who’d rather be literally anywhere else.
Halloween is my truth-telling moment — the holiday where I admit I’m just not that into it — then the next two months are my endurance sport.
Starting next week, I’m going to be posting about all the facets of winter holidays through the end of the year: from explaining the concept of limited PTO to younger employees (who ask if you’ll make an exception to policies if you speak to their parents) to attempting to cultivate Christmas magic with emo teens to trying to control your face upon receiving shitty gifts. I’m open to any feedback on the non-celebratory parts of the holiday season so share any requests or questions in the comments below or by emailing steppinginit@substack.com.
Would love to see something about preparing meals for family holidays - especially when your palate and/or concept of the meal doesn't match that of the hosts.