W.I.T.C.H.

Dressing up for Halloween lost its appeal for me sometime in my tween years. That's when trick-or-treating suddenly wasn’t “cool.”

The only time I ever dressed up for Halloween as an adult was for a grown-up party that my Sweetie and I attended while we were dating. I was an ordinary witch. Not sexy, scary, or warty. Just ordinary.

I never dressed in costume when the boys were little and I escorted them on the rounds of the neighborhood collecting candy. I always blamed it on the stuffiness of my ex-husband and the fact that I wasn’t allowed to do anything unusual, surprising, fun, unexpected, whimsical, etc… Nothing beyond the compliant and acceptable mother/wife persona. Donning an alternate/fantasy identity wasn't plausible.

The persona that I took on during my first marriage out of necessity has unfortunately become my identity. Years later I’m still exhibiting that calm, cool, collected, controlled exterior. But I don’t need to be so controlled all the time anymore. I’m working on breaking free the goofiness that lives inside of me and “letting my hair down” so the real me shines through.

Quickly after dinner Sunday night G-Man, my Sweetie, and I did the best we could to set the mood with the decorations I bought this year. We sat in front of the house and handed out candy to all the tiny trick-or-treaters on our street and I silently regretted not throwing myself into Halloween when the kids were younger. Even though I didn’t have a costume, I tried to dress for the occasion. I put on the ball cap my parents recently gave me…

Ironically, the acronym stands for “Woman In Total Control Here.” I’m really not sure which part of the message my parents were trying to convey.

Perhaps next year I'll truly dress for Halloween.