Youth group Halloween trauma

I've always loved Halloween. As a kid, I loved dressing up and eating candy. Duh. 

My parents were always 100% supportive - indulging my creative whims by letting me decorate the house, make a haunted porch to scare neighbor kids, play scary music out the window, and wear whatever costume I wanted.

For reasons I no longer remember, I decided one year to be a Pepsi Free can. I covered tagboard with red butcher paper and rolled it into a cylinder with holes on the side for my arms. I colored the logo on the front, and it was AWESOME! (really strange for an elementary-aged kid, but awesome!) I think I even included a UPC code.

(I know my mom still has this somewhere in her storage!)

We always visited my grandparents' and great grandparents' houses - to show off our costumes and to get more candy.

One time, Eryn and I were punk rockers (this was the 1980s!). And yes, I AM playing a keytar I made out of tagboard!

I love dressing up as an adult, too! And between races and working in a high school with spirit days, I have lots of opportunities - not just Halloween!

These hot dogs have seen a few races and costume kickboxing events:

Rock climbers:

Band nerds forever:

This past Halloween weekend, my heart was happy seeing neighborhood kiddos in costume - as well as pictures on Facebook and IG. Organized by a couple moms, our neighborhood set up safe, distant driveway candy distribution. It was so fun to sit in the driveway with our firepit and watch the dinosaurs, monsters, witches, Spidermans, football players, and more stop by for treats.

But my own Halloween nostalgia includes some trauma - from my youth group. 

One year, they held some sort of event where we could wear costumes. OF COURSE I was going to dress up - I wouldn't pass up the chance! But the one thing I really remember is showing up in my witch costume and being ridiculed by the youth pastor. I was 100% made to feel that I was wrong and out of place and inappropriate. Mind you, I think my costume was a long black dress and a pointy hat - maybe black hair paint under. I wasn't carrying dead animal parts or anything like that. It was really tame.

So, 30 years later, I still remember how embarrassing it was and the feeling of being questioned and singled out and being made to feel evil. Just because I was playing dress up. On a holiday where you're supposed to dress up. At a party where we were encouraged to dress up. 

I had no idea it wasn't "OK" to be a witch on Halloween.

My youth pastor was young (like they so often are), and I know we, as humans, can grow and change our viewpoints as we age. I just looked him up on Facebook. He's now the lead pastor at a church in another state. His page has several reactionary, political-type posts. Seems like he's the same guy who shamed me when I was a teen playing dress up.

I'm so sad that this memory floats to the surface every year. I'm fortunate that I've finally found a faith community that reflects my own beliefs and ethics. I'm certain I would be welcomed in whatever costume or clothing I wore! And I'm beyond glad that my parents have always supported my creativity and encouraged my imagination. 🎃💀