This was previously published in our October 2025 issue. 

Shoes sticking to the floor, hairspray in your lungs, and a brand new outfit you’ll probably never wear again. It’s Homecoming night and it’s kinda underwhelming.

Okay, don’t come at me. Homecoming is great. There’s a lot of work that goes into it, the mosh pit is hype, and tickets are only $10. But, for all of the excitement and build-up, it’s just slightly anticlimactic.

Stress and unnecessary pressure get wrapped up in some glittery paper with a giant bow, and you have no choice but to take it because you only have four chances before the opportunity is out the window. Oh, and don’t forget about that football game. You want to show that school pride, don’t you? But wait, you should really get some of your friends together for pictures before the dance, so you can prove you went and to show your future kids as well as persuade yourself into believing buying the expensive dress was necessary. Yet, when you finally get through those doors, you haven’t seen those friends the whole time. The night’s not over, though, because your friend’s boyfriend’s cousin is hosting an afterparty, which you’ve already agreed to attend during
that pre-homecoming hype. So you show up, feet in pain, sweaty, exhausted, all to watch a movie you hate with people you barely know.

But, hey, anything for that high school experience…right? Friends of mine will come up to me saying how much they’re dreading going to the dance each year, then five minutes later show me the dress they spent a hundred bucks on. It has made me realize that it really is just the novelty of the experience. Everyone’s just going because they feel like they have to, and I’m guilty of it, too.

To me, the best part of Homecoming is really just getting ready. The process of my mom curling my hair while we debrief our day together, putting on that dress I fell in love with, and laughing hysterically while trying to recreate Pinterest photos with my friends.

The thing I noticed about the parts I love is that I really do not take them seriously. I’d say we need to look at the whole thing with a more playful nature. A kid was dressed as a banana last year, and he was the life of the party for crying out loud! This year, I didn’t worry about not finding my ‘perfect’ dress; I just made sure it was comfortable to last me the night. My hair was done last minute, and I pretty much just let my mom do whatever she felt like doing, no inspiration picture required. I let my friends choose
the poses for photos while shielding ourselves from the rain.

With the fun I had, I worried about the actual dance. Would it just disappoint me again? Despite the anxiousness, I kept all of that whimsy in the back of my mind, and who would’ve thought…it was great. I didn’t concern myself with getting in the mosh pit or even getting any pictures of myself. I mainly watched everything unfold from the balcony, occasionally dancing along to a song or two with my best friend by my side.

So, yeah. Taking everything less seriously really did work. I can’t wait to do it all again next year.