Where Did Halloween Start?

The Night That Refuses to Die

Let’s be honest—Halloween isn’t just about plastic skeletons, overpriced candy, or awkward office costume contests where the intern dresses as a “sexy Wi-Fi router.” 

Halloween is something older. Darker. 

It’s the one night of the year where the mask slips, and we willingly flirt with death, chaos, and the things that make our skin crawl.

But where the hell did it come from? 

Why do we dress our kids like witches and send them to beg for candy from strangers, a ritual we’d call “child endangerment” any other night of the year?

The truth: Halloween was born from fear. Real, raw, ancient fear.

The Celts and Their Night of Terror

Over 2,000 years ago, long before Starbucks made pumpkin spice a seasonal religion, the Celts had Samhain (pronounced “sow-in”). This wasn’t a cute holiday. It was a survival mechanism.

Samhain marked the end of the harvest and the beginning of winter—the season of hunger, sickness, and death. 

On this night, they believed the veil between the living and the dead cracked open. Ghosts, spirits, demons—they all came wandering. And if you weren’t careful, they’d drag you into the dark with them.

So, what did the Celts do? They lit bonfires, wore terrifying animal-skin costumes, and made offerings of food to trick the dead into leaving them alone. 

Imagine it: whole villages in the firelight, wearing skull masks, surrounded by shadows, whispering prayers that death would pass them by.

Halloween didn’t start with candy. It started with terror management theory 101.

Christianity Hijacks the Fear

Fast forward a few centuries. Christianity, as it liked to do, saw Samhain and thought: Nice holiday, we’ll take it from here.

The Church rebranded it as “All Saints’ Day” (a.k.a. All Hallows’ Day), with the night before becoming All Hallows’ Eve—Halloween. 

But no amount of incense or holy water could bleach out the primal fear baked into the tradition. 

People still believed the dead came walking. They just mixed saints, spirits, and sinners into one hellish cocktail.

Even today, the church bells of All Saints’ Day feel more like a warning than a celebration.

Trick-or-Treat: Bribing Spirits With Candy

Now here’s where it gets deliciously twisted. The whole “trick-or-treat” routine? That started as “souling.” Poor villagers went door-to-door offering prayers for the dead in exchange for food. If you didn’t feed them, maybe they cursed your house.

Over time, that practice got boiled down into kids demanding chocolate bars with thinly veiled threats: “Trick or treat.” It’s playful now, but the bones of it? It’s straight-up spiritual extortion.

Candy is just the 21st-century offering to ward off the dark.

The Horror Beneath the Mask

Think about it: Halloween is the one holiday that doesn’t pretend everything is fine. 

Christmas lies and says we’re all merry. 

Valentine’s Day sells the illusion that love is perfect. 

But Halloween? Halloween stares us straight in the face and says: You are going to die. The dark is real. The monsters aren’t gone—they’re just hiding in plain sight.

The Celts lit bonfires because they feared the dark. We plug in plastic skeletons because we fear being forgotten. We put on masks not just to scare away spirits, but to remind ourselves that deep down, we all wear masks every damn day.

Halloween is less about ghosts and more about truth—the truth that death is undefeated, and pretending otherwise is the biggest trick of all.

So, Why Do We Celebrate?

Because for one night, fear is allowed. 

We let the monsters walk among us. We welcome the ghosts. We eat candy to sweeten the bitterness of the inevitable. 

We laugh at the thing that terrifies us most—our mortality.

The Celts danced around the fire so winter wouldn’t kill them. We dance around our fears so life won’t swallow us whole.

Call to Action: Face the Darkness

Here’s the challenge: This Halloween, don’t just throw on a costume and eat cheap chocolate. 

Light your own fire. 

Not literal bonfires—unless your HOA is cool with that—but confront the shadows you’ve been avoiding. The fear you’ve been hiding from.

Ask yourself: 

What ghost still haunts me? 

What mask am I wearing every day? 

What part of me is already dead, and what part is still clawing to live?

Halloween isn’t a children’s game. It’s a reminder that life is short, death is certain, and fear can either paralyze you—or fuel you.

The Celts understood this. They faced the night.

Now it’s your turn.