Modified from a post seen on World Childless Week, October 2025
Halloween Memories and the Magic of Childhood
Halloween in the United States—October 31st—is a night filled with costumes, candy, and community. For many, it evokes childhood memories of racing through neighborhoods, trading treats, and feeling the thrill of fall. For me, growing up in South Louisiana in the 1970s and early 1980s, Halloween held a special kind of magic—even if the costumes were anything but comfortable.
Back then, Halloween costumes were made of thin plastic that didn’t breathe. The heat and humidity turned every outing into a steam bath. Scratchy fabrics, flimsy capes, and hard plastic masks held on by rubber bands made trick-or-treating a challenge. But despite the discomfort, those costumes felt magical. My brother Travis and I would clutch our buckets tightly, darting from house to house, trading loot and trying not to pass out in those masks.
When Traditions Shift: Navigating Halloween Without Children
Years later, I relived that magic through my niece and nephew. Watching them trick-or-treat reminded me of the joy I hoped to share with my own children someday. But life had other plans. As a childless-not-by-choice woman, Halloween became a bittersweet reminder of traditions I thought I’d never pass on.
When we moved into our neighborhood eleven years ago, I noticed the trick-or-treaters were few and far between. At first, it stung—a quiet driveway where I’d imagined laughter and costumes. But over time, something beautiful emerged.
Creating New Traditions: Halloween as a Celebration of Connection
We began hosting a light, neighborly gathering on Halloween night. No haunted houses or spooky decor—just chairs in the driveway, taco soup (yes, the kind where you open the cans), and warm conversation. When the occasional trick-or-treater arrives, we pass out candy with joy. 
One of my favorite parts? Dressing our goldendoodle, Ryder, in a costume. My husband always says, “I’m sorry your mama does that to you, buddy,” and it never fails to make us laugh. It’s silly, it’s sweet, and it’s exactly the kind of playful joy that makes Halloween meaningful now.
Redefining Legacy: Joy Beyond Parenthood
Over the years, this tradition has grown into something far bigger than candy or costumes. Bonds with neighbors have deepened. Laughter fills the driveway. What once triggered longing now brings connection, warmth, and joy.
For childless-not-by-choice women, holidays like Halloween can feel isolating. But we have the power to reimagine them. The memories we cherish don’t have to look like the ones we imagined. Legacy isn’t limited to parenthood—it’s found in the lives we touch, the traditions we create, and the joy we share.
Final Thoughts: Halloween, Reimagined
Sometimes the most meaningful moments are the simple ones:
- Sitting around taco soup with neighbors
- Watching Ryder wiggle in his costume
- Sharing stories and laughter late into the evening
These are the memories that linger. These are the stories that define our lives. Childlessness doesn’t limit joy—it invites us to imagine it differently, more intentionally, and often more warmly than we expected.