One of the things I love about Halloween is the permission it gives us to play. We can be dramatic, glamorous, mysterious, or completely ridiculous. We put on a costume and, for an evening, give a different side of ourselves a little room.
When my daughters were young, they always knew well in advance what they wanted to be. Long before October arrived, they were already planning. Over the years, their choices included Abby Cadabby, Tinker Bell, a rock star, Pocahontas- and, memorably, a slice of pizza.
There was so much freedom in those choices. A fairy one year, a rock star another. They could follow whatever captured their imagination.
Thinking about those costumes now makes me wonder: As adults, do we give ourselves that same freedom to explore? I know I sometimes need that reminder.
There’s more to us than our familiar roles
Over time, we become known for certain qualities. We’re the thoughtful one, the practical one, the mother, the professional, the person who keeps everything running. Those identities can be meaningful. They reflect relationships, commitments, and abilities we value. But they don’t necessarily capture our full range.
Psychology and education have been important parts of my life for many years. I value learning, thoughtful conversation, and finding practical ways to share research about well-being. Those parts of me have shaped my work and continue to shape Serenta.
But I also love playing tennis, learning to create pottery, and enjoying music- including electronic dance music. Put those interests together, and they might not form the picture someone initially expects. I like that.
There’s room in my life for an academic conversation and a dance floor. For taking my work seriously and spending time making something with clay. Different experiences give different parts of me a chance to participate.
The stories we tell about ourselves
Identity is one of psychology’s enduring questions: How do we understand who we are? Our relationships, experiences, choices, and the stories we tell about ourselves all contribute to that understanding.
Some of those stories become so familiar that we stop questioning them.
“I’m not adventurous.”
“I’m always the serious one.”
“I’m not creative.”
They may describe how we’ve behaved in certain settings. But we can start treating them as instructions about what we should do next. If I’ve decided something is “not me,” I may never give myself a chance to discover whether I enjoy it.
Halloween offers a playful example of experimentation. We choose something, try it on, and see how it feels. Everyday life offers opportunities to do that, too, though they sometimes require a little more courage than putting on a costume.
Growing alongside our children
Watching my daughters grow has also given me reasons to think about my own identity. Motherhood remains an important part of who I am. At the same time, as my girls build their adult lives, I have opportunities to consider what I want to explore in mine.
Starting Serenta is one expression of that. It brings together my background in psychology and education with new experiences in building a business, making connections, and sharing work that matters to me.
Pottery offers a different kind of exploration. So do music, movement, and time with friends. I appreciate having places in my life where I can learn, contribute, play, and simply enjoy myself.
My daughters are continuing to discover who they are. And so am I.
What feels like you?
The useful question isn’t whether we should all become bolder, more spontaneous, or more adventurous. It’s whether there’s a part of ourselves we would enjoy expressing more often.
Perhaps you miss being playful. Perhaps you enjoy bringing people together but rarely initiate plans. Perhaps you feel absorbed and content when you’re making something with your hands.
Paying attention to those experiences can help us make choices that support our well-being. They offer clues about our interests and values, the people we connect with, and the activities that help us feel engaged. When we make room for those interests, we create more opportunities for enjoyment, connection, and a sense of choice in our lives.
We don’t have to turn every discovery into a project. Enjoying a dance class doesn’t require becoming a dancer. Taking pottery doesn’t require selling ceramics. An experience can be worthwhile because of what it allows us to feel and express while we’re doing it.
And sometimes we discover that something isn’t for us. That’s useful information, too.
After the costume comes off
My girls’ Halloween costumes are a lovely reminder of how readily children give themselves permission to imagine. They didn’t need every choice to fit the one before it. Each year offered another possibility.
I’d like to carry a little of that spirit into adulthood.
This Halloween, perhaps we can appreciate the freedom that comes with dressing up- and get curious about what we might carry into the rest of the year.
A little humor. A willingness to be seen. More creativity. An evening spent doing something purely for fun.
It’s lovely to remember that we can still surprise ourselves.
What part of yourself would you like to make more room for after the costume comes off?