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Only for a Moment: The Beauty of Nostalgia, Halloween, and Growing up

Picture this, It's Halloween, and some friends and I are in a random dorm, it is way past bedtime, yet the night is just starting. As we wait for the other half of our friends, we hang in one of my friend’s “not boyfriend boyfriend” dorm, as his roommate plays us, “monster mash” on the guitar unwarranted, and asks us how short our skirts are supposed to be.

As I'm waiting, in this oddly smelly room, sweaty, tired, and in boots too high for me with a [redacted] in my left hand wondering how the hell I got there, I think about the Halloween I dressed up as a vampire and my biggest problem was getting the blood to not stain my skin.

For years I had wanted to be the type of girl to dress up cute and go out to parties with all my friends, the first few years it was fun, dressing up, accidental matching, throwing parties in my backyard, having glitter, and polaroids, that will take lifetimes to explain.

It had all been the exact glitz and glamour, the 12-year-old me had longed for, but after a while, I had missed the same simplicities I used to feel I outgrew.

Maybe it's the overindulgence in teen movies, but I have noticed an expectation around this time for our lives to live up to an idealized moment.

Looking back at the past is always a much sweeter endeavor, but I can still see the maps I’d draw out in an attempt to figure out how to make the most efficient and wise time of our trick-or-treating.

I suppose the only thing that’s changed is our motives. What used to feel like fun can sometimes shift into a need for validation, for Instagram posts and long walks to bars we’re not supposed to be in just to say we went.

I’m not saying going out is bad, I’m just saying, you deserve to know what fun is for you, and should be able to enjoy it fully.

I suggest a step back, turning your phone off, and considering if whatever you want to do is because you want to do it.

There’s a balance in this somewhere, whether you be the person who really wants to go out or the person who actually wants to stay in, the choices we make should reflect what could bring us the most joy.

As we get older, we risk losing our joy in favor of our expectations, maybe this Halloween say screw it and do what you want. Looking back at it now, the Halloween I had wished it used to be like, didn't exist anymore. I couldn't hold my mom’s hand as we walked from neighbor to neighbor, filling our pumpkins with whatever treats they decided to give out that year, I couldn’t draw out neighborhood maps in crayon during recess, but I could find the specialness in the now.

Time changes faster than you can name it, it's not your job to keep up with it, just to let it in.

When the rushed feeling of nostalgia reaches you, and you long for trips to the children's museum dressed as a mummy and rides on the Halloween kiddy train, I hope that it doesn't pull you away too deeply.

It doesn't need to be like that anymore to be special, but it also doesn't mean, we can't sit at home passing out candy, watching Halloween classics (Fun Size w/ Victoria Justice is my preferred choice), and playing Monopoly.

Nostalgia, a wonderful gift, can only be a starting point, to release expectations.

Written by Toni Desiree

Pictures provided by 47Team Members

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