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Halloween was always magical in our house — handmade costumes, warm traditions, and three generations of women stitching joy into every thread. But this year, just hours before my daughter’s big moment, everything unraveled in a way I never saw coming.

Ever since I was a little girl, Halloween didn’t just mean candy or spooky decorations — it meant the whirr of my mom’s sewing machine as she created my costume. I kept this tradition going with my daughter until my mother-in-law (MIL) tried to ruin it..

Since childhood, Halloween has always been special in our family. It came with the scent of cinnamon and thread, and the magic of seeing fabric turned into fairy wings or wizard robes. Every October, our living room transformed into a glittery, colorful chaos of tulle, sequins, and paper patterns.

My mom believed that costumes should be made with love, not bought off a rack. And when she sewed all of my costumes for the holiday by hand, it wasn’t just about the costume — it was about joy.