By Nichole Giles
I have always loved Halloween. As a child, a teenager, and even as an adult, I have loved the opportunity to dress up and pretend—just for a day—that I am someone else.
I’m a woman, and inside every woman is a little girl clawing and fighting her way to the surface. For some of us, that inner child shouts and screams as loudly as she can to make herself heard. Besides, what little girl doesn’t love to play dress up?
I’d like to think my love for Halloween is the voice of my inner child, wanting to pretend I’m a queen, a bride, an elvin princess or vampire warrior. Sometimes, I want to be the villain—Grim Reaper, Medusa, The Wicked Witch of the West…the list is endless of course, especially for someone who loves to read.
Halloween is the one day of the year when I can wander around my neighborhood dressed up as someone else. This is much better than hiding in my closet playing dress up with my daughters (as I have been known to do on occasion) and worrying that my husband will come home and catch me wearing an old prom dress, spiked heals I would never wear outside, and my nine-year-old’s costume jewelry.
Okay, so if I’m completely honest, the hiding in the closet thing isn’t so bad. You can change as often as you want and prance around in whatever suits your fancy, any day of the year, and for as long as you like. (I can’t believe I’d admit that in public.)
And actually I can think of another reason to try dressing up on a day other than Halloween. It might be fun to be one of my own characters for a day. Dress in clothes she would wear, color my hair—or put on a wig—the same color as hers, and live her life for just one day. This one might require that I venture outside though.
Okay, so the neighbors MIGHT think I’ve lost my marbles. And my kids might think it’s time to check Mom into the nut house because she’s prancing around the house in workout clothes and carrying around a wooden stake and a flaming sword or some such thing, calling, “Don’t worry Hoyt, I’ll save you from that evil villain!” But really, what better way to get to know the people I’m writing about?
I’m a writer. I stopped worrying about what the neighbors think a long time ago.