Things That Go Bump in the Night (and Other Reasons I Opened a Therapy Practice on Halloween)

I opened my therapy practice on Halloween because honestly, what other day makes sense anymore? The world’s on fire, billionaires are joyriding in space, and somehow we’re all just supposed to hydrate and “manifest peace.” At least Halloween doesn’t gaslight you. It admits, “Yup, this sure is spooky.”

When I was a kid, Goosebumps and Are You Afraid of the Dark? were my religion. I’d stay up late watching those kids summon demons and think, “Wow, they’re so brave.”

Simpler times. Fear had a chiptune soundtrack. You screamed, the credits rolled, and everyone lived to film another episode.

Now I pay bills and make phone calls to my insurance company, which somehow feels scarier.

For a long time, I was afraid of my own darkness. Not the fun kind with fake blood and candy corn. The kind that feels like swimming through tar. Family stories that don’t end the way you want, but you keep rewatching, hoping the ending changed. The kind of trauma that gets muffled behind locked basement doors. It makes you wonder if you’ll ever free yourself.

Adult fear doesn’t come with theme music. It shows up as your tax software crashing at 11:58 p.m. Or maybe your inner critic (who sounds suspiciously like someone from your past) launching a TED Talk the second you start to fall asleep. It reeks of Bath & Body Works lotion and existential dread.

I used to think I could out-heal my fear. If I just did enough therapy, read enough Brené Brown, maybe I’d finally stop feeling so scared all the time. But fear doesn’t leave. It just gets better costumes. Mine started dressing up as perfectionism, disordered eating, overfunctioning, being “fine.”

So yeah. I opened Glitterspace Therapy on Halloween. Because if we’re going to face monsters, let’s do it with candles lit, disco ball spinning, glitter flying, and a faint smell of smoke in the air.

New Orleans gets it. This city breathes beauty and rot in the same exhale. It throws parties for ghosts and funerals that double as parades. There’s something holy about that level of honesty. Something comforting about not pretending it’s not all part of the same cycle.

Glitterspace is for the people who’ve seen too much, felt too deeply, and still somehow want to keep trying. The ones who don’t need another toxic positivity influencer telling them to smile through late capitalism. It’s for people who are fighting tooth and nail to dig their way out of the grave. It’s a place to be real about how hard it is to be alive right now. The haunted and the hopeful, sharing space with their shadows.

So yes, the doors to Glitterspace open today. On Halloween. Because pretending not to be scared has never made anyone brave.

Happy Halloween, from the gloriously haunted halls of Glitterspace Therapy. May your ghosts have good boundaries and your candy be king-size.