SPOOKY SEASON

Spooky season is upon us, and no, we’re not talking about Halloween falling on a Friday night — though that’s frightening enough for anyone with poor impulse control and a full moon fetish. We’re talking about cuffing season: that special time of year when the temperature drops, your DMs heat up, and everyone’s suddenly looking for someone — anyone — to binge Netflix with until spring.

Cuffing season, for the uninitiated, is when the air turns crisp and logic turns foggy. It’s the season of “I’m not really looking for anything serious” turning into “So what are we?” after three weeks of chili, cuddles, and questionable decisions. It’s when you grasp at any warm body to get you through the coldest, darkest days (and nights) of the year.

But word to the wise — the monsters are out. And I’m not talking about the ones with plastic masks and bags full of candy. I’m talking about the hobo-sexuals and the emotionally unstable men who thrive in the shadows of October through March. These creatures of the cuff emerge from their summer slumber wearing their most convincing disguises: stable, attentive, freshly showered. Don’t be fooled. Their masks are on tighter than Michael Myers’ and, spoiler alert, they come with tricks, treats, and an alarming amount of t-r-a-u-m-a.

The girlies are already whispering warnings like incantations: “It’s getting cold out. Hide your apartments!” Because let’s be honest — once a man spends one night in your bed, he’s one weighted blanket away from forwarding his mail to your address. The line between “sleepover” and “move-in” blurs faster than your vision after his second round of “Wanna watch a scary movie?”

“It’s getting cold out. Hide your apartments!”

If you’ve never encountered a hobo-sexual, bless your heart — and your security deposit. The hobo-sexual is not defined by homelessness, but by home opportunism. He doesn’t want you, he wants your central heating. He will show up with a duffel bag of “essentials” that suspiciously includes every shirt he owns and zero plans for leaving.

He’ll say things like, “I just feel so comfortable here,” or “You make me feel safe,” which sounds romantic until you realize he’s referring to your couch, your fridge, and your Wi-Fi. Before you know it, he’s cooking breakfast with your eggs, not buying new ones, and reminding you to “pick up more oat milk” as if he pays rent.

Ladies, beware the man who says he’s “between places.” Between places usually means between phases of freeloading.

Then there’s the emotional vampire. He doesn’t sparkle in the sunlight because he doesn’t go outside. He’s the guy who love-bombs you into submission — texting “good morning beautiful” before your alarm even rings, calling you his “peace,” and making you think maybe, just maybe, you’ve found the one who’s not afraid to communicate.

But fast-forward three weeks, and your peace looks more like pieces. He’s drained your emotional battery, your playlist now reminds you of him, and you’re Googling “how to block someone on every platform without looking bitter.”

This kind of vampire doesn’t need blood — he feeds on validation. And when he’s full? He disappears into the night, cape optional, ghosting you just in time for Thanksgiving.

One minute you’re making cocoa together, the next you’re entangled in something sticky and hard to escape.

Cuffing season’s greatest danger isn’t loneliness — it’s delusion in a hoodie. That’s how the web gets spun. One minute you’re making cocoa together, the next you’re entangled in something sticky and hard to escape. These men will spin chaos with charm: they’re the kind who remember your favorite takeout order but forget your birthday, who send “I miss you” texts while dating someone else.

And somehow, because you’re human and hopeful, you’ll start rationalizing the red flags: Girl. He’s not working on himself — he’s working you.

As if the new monsters weren’t enough, spooky season always resurrects the dead — the exes. They emerge like zombies, crawling out of the crypt of your blocked list with texts like: “Hey stranger 👀” , “You crossed my mind.” and “How’ve you been?”

Sir, I’ve been fine — undead, unbothered, and unavailable.
These men have radar for when your life is peaceful. They can sense when you’ve moved on and immediately try to haunt your progress. But remember: closure is not found in a text message that starts with “hey.” It’s found in restraint — and the “delete” button.

The modern dating market is a horror film: “The Call Is Coming From Inside the House (You Let Him Move In).”

Let’s also talk about the economics of dating in spooky season. As the economy tightens, so should your standards. Inflation is high, and so are the number of men looking for someone with reliable Wi-Fi and a Costco card. The modern dating market is a horror film: “The Call Is Coming From Inside the House (You Let Him Move In).” And listen — I’m not saying you shouldn’t enjoy yourself. Get dressed up. Go out. Kiss someone who smells like autumn and bad decisions. But as the great philosopher Megan Thee Stallion once implied: don’t let anyone trick you out of your peace, your rent money, or your skincare routine.

The men who are great at sex and seduction? Oh, they’re out there — and they’ll have you howling at the moon, no doubt. But when the full moon fades and the reality sets in, you might find yourself exorcising a demon you mistook for a soulmate. So what’s a modern ghoul to do? Cast a spell of discernment. Don’t give out the candy — because the wrong person will eat through your emotional pantry faster than a trick-or-treater at an open bowl.

By the time the clock strikes midnight on Halloween, most of these ghouls will have shown their true faces. The charm fades, the masks slip, and you’ll see what was lurking beneath: uncertainty, avoidance, maybe even fear. But here’s the twist ending — this doesn’t have to be a horror story. You can rewrite the script. You can still flirt, still play, still collect experiences like candy — just keep your boundaries sharper than vampire teeth.

So yes — get your costume ready and flirt if you dare. But remember: not everyone who knocks deserves candy.

This Halloween, the scariest thing isn’t ghosts or goblins — it’s the thought of letting the wrong man haunt your peace.

Say your affirmations, and repeat after me: “I am the treat. I won’t be tricked!”

xo LN 💋👻🕸️🕷️