It’s halloween again. My neighborhood will celebrate the occasion tomorrow and the streets will be filled with people running door to door holding out their bags to get more goodies.
I laughed last week while watching Grey’s Anatomy because Meredith said that she had never gone trick or treating. I was sad because every child should experience trick-or-treating, but I laughed because she said the reason her mother didn’t take her was because she had felt that begging for candy door-to-door was inappropriate. It does make sense, on Halloween, we literally are begging for candy. It’s still a fun tradition though and I would never begrudge anyone the opportunity to partake of this tradition.
My neighbor asked me if I was going to dress up and I told her no. I’m not that creative. I can’t even think about what I would be. Many of my costumes in the past have been store bought, right off the shelf. No thought put into it whatsoever. I must be missing the creative gene because I don’t have any imagination.
The only mask I wear is the one that tells people I’m closeted. On some level people who have met me, or get to know me beyond the cordial hellos and goodbyes, have to know. Yet, I keep trying to convince them I’m otherwise. I’ve told some friends that I’m gay and they are the important ones right? Some have accepted me and in some ways it has made our friendships stronger. I shouldn’t care what a stranger thinks, but for some reason I still care what people know or don’t know.
So I still wear this mask. Many people know who is really underneath it. I’m slowly learning that people like me despite the costume. And that is a good feeling.