There’s something quietly delightful about Halloween landing on a Friday. The energy shifts a little. Kids don’t have school the next day, and for many adults, it means a break from work. The evening feels more relaxed, more open. You can linger a little longer at the neighbor’s house, let the kids eat one more piece of candy, and maybe even stay in costume a bit past bedtime.
Halloween has always had this playful spirit, a kind of permission to step outside the usual routine. Dressing up in a costume, whether you’re five or fifty, is one of the few times in life where you get a free pass to look ridiculous, to be someone else, or maybe even to feel like a kid again. It’s a day where pretending is encouraged, and where the rules of everyday life soften just enough to let imagination take the lead.
I still remember one of my favorite costumes from childhood. I was Superman. Not the store-bought version with the shiny plastic chest and matching pants, but the homemade kind. I drew a giant “S” and pinned it to a blue sweatshirt. I probably found a red blanket, or maybe I convinced my mom to buy some red fabric so I could have a cape. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t need to be. Back then, costumes were often cobbled together from whatever you had around the house. A little creativity, a little tape, and you were good to go.
Thinking back on that costume, I realize something interesting. For Superman, the costume wasn’t the cape or the “S” on his chest. His real costume was Clark Kent. Every day, he had to hide his powers, blend in, and play the part of a mild-mannered reporter. He had to hold back who he really was. He had to go along to get along.
But when the moment came, when someone needed help, when there was an emergency, he would shed that disguise and become himself. Fully, unapologetically. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t worry about what people would think. He just stepped into his power.
I think that’s true for a lot of us. We all have something inside us that’s powerful, unique, maybe even a little quirky. A gift, a talent, a way of seeing the world. But most of the time, we keep it tucked away. We wear our own version of the Clark Kent costume. We do what’s expected. We follow the rules. We stay in the mold.
Sometimes it’s because of work. Sometimes it’s bills, responsibilities, or just the rhythm of everyday life. There’s a kind of quiet pressure to fit in, to not stand out too much. And so we hold back. We keep our superpowers hidden.
But every now and then, something cracks through. Maybe it’s a moment of inspiration, or a challenge that calls for something more. Maybe it’s a conversation that opens a door, or a feeling that won’t go away. And in that moment, we get a glimpse of who we really are. Not the version we present to the world, but the one underneath. The one that’s been waiting.
Halloween, in its own playful way, reminds us of that. It gives us a chance to take off the usual costume and try on something different. It’s not just about pretending to be someone else, it’s about remembering that we can be more than we usually allow ourselves to be.
So I wonder, when you take off your costume, who do you become? Not the one you wear for Halloween, but the one you wear every day. The one that helps you fit in, stay safe, keep things predictable. What would it feel like to let that go, even just a little?
Would you be more creative? More bold? More honest? Would you speak up more, or slow down, or take a risk you’ve been avoiding? Would you finally start that project, or reach out to someone, or say what you really mean?
I don’t think we need an emergency to step into who we are. I think we just need a little space, a little courage, and maybe a reminder that it’s okay to be different. That it’s okay to be powerful. That it’s okay to be ourselves.
Halloween falling on a Friday is a small thing, but it opens up a little window. A chance to pause, to play, to reflect. Maybe this year, after the candy is sorted and the costumes are put away, you’ll take a moment to think about your own superpower. The thing that makes you, you.
And maybe, just maybe, you’ll decide to let it show a little more often.