On the surface, we all know what this holiday is. Beyond the booming business for every vendor crafting delightful, sugary treats, it marks a change of season — and an excuse to indulge in far too many horror movies.

From time to time, I like to step back and reflect on what this holiday truly means to me — and this year, I have the privilege of sharing those thoughts with my new (or perhaps returning) forum family, as well as the wider MLP community. And maybe, in doing so, hearing what it means to all of you, too.

As a general rule, I rarely speak out of character. Dusk is me — just in pony form. My quirks, fears, and passions, even the odd turns of phrase and rhythms of speech, have all been shaped to reflect who I would be if I’d been blessed to live in a world of pastel ponies. Yet, on this celebratory eve, I’ll break tradition to speak plainly, as both myself and her.

This night — this Nightmare Night, this Halloween — is, at its heart, a time to face and even celebrate fear. I’ve had many fears in my life, and I still have many to face. Beneath the modern festivities and costumes lies a long history: a pagan celebration of the turning year, later shaped into a Christian day of remembrance for the saints. But through every version of it, the theme endures — it’s a night when the things that frighten us seem to live again.

It’s a night of trickery and treats, of laughter and unease, and for some, a rare chance to be.

On a night like tonight, we can become whatever we wish. Yes, the tradition leans toward the eerie and macabre, but there’s freedom in it — a space where masks reveal more than they hide. Maybe you’re a pony fan who adores their fursuit or costume, usually kept tucked away in the privacy of your home. Perhaps you’re someone who feels different inside than you appear on the outside. Be that tonight. Celebrate it. Tonight, no one looks twice.

Sometimes I think we see more of people on Halloween than we do any other day. Some dress as monsters for fun — others to show the part of themselves the world rarely allows. Some wear costumes for a thrill; others wear their truth in silk, feathers, or heels. In every case, it’s an act of expression — a small rebellion against fear itself.

I remember my Halloweens as a child. Of course, I loved the candy — but honestly, I could have gone without it. What I remember most were the decorations, the people, the dress-up, the energy of the night. Sometimes it was so overwhelming I’d cry — not from sadness, but because it was sensory overload in the best possible way.

Halloween let me experience life as someone other than that awkward girl who barely had a friend in the world. I could feel powerful, in control, part of a community that joined in celebration of the same night. It was freedom.

(Even when I clothes-lined myself on a wire I couldn’t see, running full speed through someone’s yard — I remember lying on my back, looking up at the sky and thinking, “The sky looks nice tonight.”)

I would be remiss if I didn’t honor those who celebrate tonight as a sacred observance — those who keep Samhain and all it represents. Some of my best memories are from those gatherings: bonfires crackling against the dark, shared food, and sleeping beneath the stars. The witches, warlocks, and covens practicing their craft, those reaching across the veil to feel or commune with loved ones — it all came together to form a night that was, in every sense, magical.

My appreciation for this single night of the year runs deep. I spend months planning and anticipating — not just for myself, but for everyone who finds meaning in this holiday. For those who use it to express, to connect, to heal, or to remember.

I hope tonight brings you blessings and joy. That amid the world’s noise and hardship, this night offers a reprieve — a moment to exist as you wish to exist.

Because that, to me, is the true magic of Halloween — of Samhain, All Hallows’ Eve, Nightmare Night — a night when, at last, we are all free to shine in the dark.

Yours in twilight,
 Dusk Haven