I’ve had mixed feelings about Halloween for as long as I can remember. Three years in a row, my costume as a toddler was Dorothy from “The Wizard of Oz” thanks to my mom.

In second grade, I came to school dressed up as a cowboy-skeleton while all the other girls were Disney princesses and witches. I was a weird kid, okay? My costume was lamely composed of a green skeleton mask from my brother and a cowboy hat from my dad. Both of my parents tried to talk me out of wearing it, but I wouldn’t listen.

The following year, after my previous costume catastrophe, my mom begged me to wear a cheerleading costume. She wanted it so badly that she bribed me with a hermit crab whom I later named TJ, may he rest in peace. I didn’t want to wear traditional girl costumes, and also discovered my distaste for dressing up in general. I stopped going door-to-door for candy when I was 8.

Instead of craving the free treats, scaring people was more appealing to me. I would sit on our porch wearing a black robe two times my size and a hair-raising goblin mask with a cauldron in my lap labeled “take one please.” Trick-or-treaters unsuspectedly reached their hands into the bowl and I’d spring to life, often provoking a startled scream as well as a few children to topple over.

Years later at our parish’s Trunk-or-Treat, I went around terrifying little kids with a scream costume that had blood oozing from the mask. The only reason I got away with the mischief was because no one knew who was behind the disguise. Since I am a picky eater, I enjoyed terrorizing others much more than sprinting from house to house only to get a random assortment of twizzlers, almond joys or sour patch kids. I was content merely buying a bag of Reese’s and Kit Kats from Target.

As years passed, I got older and Halloween unfortunately changed. Teenagers weren’t supposed to care about the candy or scaring people anymore. Instead, Halloween was about partying. Girls turned something as innocent-sounding as a cat costume into something raunchy. Most of the boys didn’t even care to dress up and if they did there was little effort in the costume.

It’s depressing to me that Halloween can’t be about the simple things anymore. The holiday was about acquiring bags full of candy and having fun. I regret not trick-or-treating annually as a kid and I should have savored that privilege. But I don’t regret sitting on the porch and scaring kids.

For now, my Halloween night will be spent at home. I’ll curl up in front of a classic horror film like The Sixth Sense and inhale an endless amount of Milky Ways. Happy Halloween!