Trick or Treat?

Disclaimer: not every Friday needs to be a serious conversation. Sometimes wisdom comes wrapped in a chocolate.

I did not grow up celebrating Halloween in South Africa. We had plenty of reasons to dress up, eat sweets and behave badly, but apparently we did not need an official holiday for it.

Which reminds me of one of my favourite family stories.

When my niece was little, the neighbor's boy asked her whether they celebrated Halloween. She tilted her head, considered the question very seriously, and replied with complete conviction:

"No, we do not celebrate Hallo the Queen!"

Well, quite right. We had enough going on without adding another royal occasion to the calendar!

I still laugh when I think about it.

But now that I have become more familiar with Halloween, I have been thinking that this whole trick or treat business is rather clever.

Children dress up as someone they are not, knock on strangers' doors and demand sweets. Adults spend money decorating their homes with cobwebs. The very things we spend the rest of the year trying to get rid of. And everyone seems perfectly happy with the arrangement.

But here's a thought.

What if the biggest tricks are not played on Halloween at all?

What if they are the little stories we tell ourselves every other day of the year?

And what if we've become so good at believing them that we have forgotten there is a treat on the other side?

So, indulge me. Let's play a little game.

When I get the promotion. When the children are older. When I've lost five kilos. When I've made enough money. When life settles down.

Which, as we all know, is usually scheduled for the 32nd of Never.

TREAT: Happiness is not a retirement benefit. You're allowed to enjoy your life while you're still building it.

Ah, yes. The unofficial job description of women everywhere.

Chief Happiness Officer. Available 24/7. No salary. Unlimited overtime. Complaints department permanently open.

TREAT: You can be kind without being endlessly available. Someone else's disappointment is not automatically your emergency.

Of course you can, darling. But should you?

Somewhere along the way, we confused being capable with being indispensable. And exhaustion with achievement.

TREAT: Asking for help isn't surrender. It's wisdom. And occasionally, it's the only way to get eight hours of sleep.

Too late to change careers. Too late to start something. Too late to learn. Too late to become someone new.

Really?

Who decided that? And more importantly, why did we give them a vote?

TREAT: Experience is not an expiry date. It's an advantage. You have earned the right to reinvent yourself as many times as you wish.

There's another thing about Halloween that strikes me.

You start the evening with a beautiful big bowl of treats.

Then everyone arrives and takes a little.

One for work. One for the family. Three for the people who cannot possibly solve their own problems. A handful for expectations. Another handful for guilt.

And before you know it, you're standing there with an empty bowl, a few sticky wrappers and a rather suspicious feeling that you've been robbed.

Sound familiar?

We give away our time, energy, attention and emotional capacity so freely that sometimes there's nothing left for the person who owns the bowl.

Here's the thing: generosity is beautiful. But so is knowing when to put the lid back on.

You are allowed to keep a few chocolates for yourself.

Preferably the good ones.

Perhaps the greatest gift of getting older is that we begin to recognize the tricks.

We become a little less impressed by appearances. A little less desperate for approval. A little more comfortable saying no.

And, with any luck, a lot more willing to laugh at ourselves.

Because life is far too short to spend it dressed up as the woman everyone else expects us to be.

So this Halloween, whether you celebrate it or, like my little niece, remain firmly opposed to Hallo the Queen, here's my wish for you:

May you believe fewer tricks. Enjoy more treats. Give generously, but not until your bowl is empty. And never forget that you are allowed to bloom exactly where you are planted, without asking anyone's permission.

And if you happen to have a chocolate hidden away for yourself this weekend, eat it.

Without sharing.

I won't tell.

A little question before you go…

What's one trick you believed about yourself for far too long and what was the treat when you finally stopped?

I'd love to hear your story. Just hit reply.

And if this made you smile, forward it to a woman who could use a little sweetness and a reminder that she deserves some of the good chocolates too.

With love

Christina 🍬🍬

herloom  •  bloom where you are planted