It's Halloween again and once more, I will be doing the most boring thing in the world...nothing. Having not celebrated the holiday growing up, this holiday means absolutely nothing to me. I have no fond memories, no favorite costumes, no traditions. I've tried to create some of my own by carving pumpkins, going to the pumpkin patch, dressing up at work, but I'm usually the only one and it just makes me feel lonely. I also don't like scary movies and find things like zombies to be grotesque and pointless. Nevermind, I have a kid who is obsessed with the occult and has trouble distinguishing between fantasy and reality. If you only knew how many conversations have resulted in me firmly reminding him that, "Zombies are fantasy. They are NOT real." I DO watch Supernatural, but can't watch it anywhere near my kid. After all, he has used Supernatural as one of the cornerstones of his made up religion. There's a part of me that is sad that this holiday will always be tainted by the way I was raised. The Satanic Panic was real when I was a kid and we went to extraordinary lengths to not celebrate it. One of my strongest memories of my parents irrational behavior concerning all things Halloween had to do with a "spooky" hay ride where my dad ended up shouting at the driver, made all of our family disembark, and then walk a mile back to our car because my dad thought spooky=Satanic. It was beyond embarrassing and I remember thinking, I love my parents, but these people are nuts. There's also another part of me that is just like, whatever. I don't celebrate Diwali either, even though there are celebrations in my city. It just wasn't a part of my culture growing up and therefore has little meaning now. All that said, we are buying this house and I may just consider doing a Halloween party next year. I love dressing up and a fancy dress party would be fun.
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AuthorThis is a personal, but secret, blog archiving my deconversion from a Christian to a non-believer. Archives
December 2020
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