I remember dressing up as the most iconic characters, getting scared senseless by a group of no-good teens that cornered me with a chainsaw, scaring a bunch of other people senseless dressed as Michael Myers (after I slept with the light on for a month because that daggum mask was in my closet), running around carefree with friends and family, and watching some of the most legendary World Series and College Football games to date while eating the best candy – all of that is what I think of when I remember Halloween in my childhood.

Halloween was one of my favorite days as a kid, but now it just sucks.

Back then, Halloween was just going to be fun every year – no doubt about it. Every year, me and my sister would hang out with our best friends, the girls would think up some iconic costume and me and my friend would (reluctantly) follow along. We’d go trick-or-treating, eat a great dinner together, watch movies and stay up ’til who knows when. Thanks to the planning of our parents, no unknown was involved. Being a kid is so great, and we were so blessed.

Now, Halloween is a day I dread every year – a day when I fight the self-pity that fills my head. Because that exact situation of carefree, fun memories is one that I envy.

I see everyone my age going to costume parties and dressing up with their significant other, and it looks like everything I wish I had. I know what they say: it’s not as good as it looks on social media, but that only fuels the self-pity that creeps in because that’s so much easier said than felt.

That leaves two options: wallow in self-pity or be content with my own situation. Choice two sounds nice and peaceful, but this age of social media makes it so hard. It’s not just on Halloween, it’s on spring break, summer vacation – heck, it’s every weekend. Comparison fuels self-pity because there’s always something others have that you wish was yours, always somewhere better to be and always a life that seems more exciting and glamorous than what yours is.

My situation living with FA elevates this internal battle because I feel like I am missing something or that I am incapable of having a good time like I used to. But all that is is a big, fat lie. I have such a good life and have everything I need to be happy – it’s just a matter of being content in my own shoes and not looking around for what I could have instead.

Anyone could have it better, but you could also have it a lot worse. Count your blessings, acknowledge them and enjoy them. Blessings in your life might look way different than they do for others, but don’t let that steal the joy you have. No one can take your joy unless you allow them to, but the lie is that you are missing out, you could be somewhere better with someone better with a better view. But if you live that way, you’ll miss the joy of what’s in front of your face.

One way I have been actively improving in this area is by being intentionally mindful. This means taking in the moment, taking a step back and viewing your life and your days with a bigger perspective. One way I do that is by going on evening walks with Schooner – not listening to music, not getting on my phone, not working on training Schooner or doing anything, just simply letting my mind wander about nothing in particular and take in what’s in front of me. It’s taking time to appreciate things I’d normally take for granted, reflect on things I did, and reassess and make sure I’m living the way I want to be and my actions are building habits that will help me reach my long-term goals.

It’s 15-20 minutes a day that leads to focusing not on what I’m missing, but what I have. And in doing that, I realized something crucial: I wouldn’t change any of it.

I could always be doing something better on Halloween night. There’s always better candy around the corner. There’s always that party you weren’t invited to that looked like you missed the night of your life. There’s always a better spot to tan on spring break.

In the end, none of it matters. Halloween sucks because it causes me to look down on myself and fumble my own contentment. But Halloween, like the rest of my life, is just what I make it.