I’ve always considered myself extroverted. In my growing up years, I enjoyed chatting with my classmates and friends. I didn’t think anything of how I enjoyed reading a good book over hanging out with friends, I blamed my lack of time or lack of transportation. Besides, my older sister constantly had friends in and out of the house. I felt adequately socialized through my interactions with them.
The fear, though, the fear did confuse me. The suffocating fear that I feel when I am going to an event all alone. Without a friend or my husband. That fear convinced me of my real tendency toward introversion. But, as with all things, facing this fear helps me to grow. At least I’d like to think so.
In February, I decided to attend Sue’s bloganthropy brunch. I mean, it sounded fun. I would get to meet fellow bloggers, dine, and have a great time! Sure, I didn’t really know what “bloganthropy” meant, but I thought, what the heck? Can’t go wrong with a good time, right? I signed the McLinky assuring the hosts that I would be attending.
Well, if you remember, February turned out to be a blue month. Blue meaning SICK month. So, on the eve of the brunch, after I had bought a few pastry items to share, I realized I couldn’t go. Ben wasn’t able to watch the kids and both of them were sick! Besides, other kids were going to be there. The mothers would have been horrified if I brought sickness in! Yes, I did manage to ignore the real reason I couldn’t attend: my fear.
I shot of a quick e-mail to Sue explaining my situation and breathed in a sigh of relief. There was always the next month.
March came rolling in much too fast. Without warning, Kristina announced the next bloganthropy event: Snuggies for Seniors. This fundraiser would also include a blog brunch. Despite the fact it was being held at a buffet, I signed my name to the McLinky and immediately made plans to attend.
Two days before the event I realized what I had done. I had agreed to attend a brunch, at a buffet, with my two kids, without knowing any person there previously. I had basically signed a death warrant for myself. Cause of death? Heart attack.
I started thinking of millions of reasons why I couldn’t come. It was a 45 minute drive. It was during nap and lunchtime. Andrew is kind of fussy. After confessing all these reasons to my husband, he told me I needed to decide. If I didn’t want to go, I really didn’t have to go.
At 2 am I finally convinced myself I was going. Even if I died of a stress induced heart attack, I was going to attend.
Attend I did.
I left reasonably early. I didn’t realize, though, that my directions were based on a route that would take me 20 minutes longer than I had calculated. So, I was late. Late!! By the time I got there, I was sweating profusely and my heart was pounding. I was on the verge of tears. I sucked up the last of my courage, slung my humungous diaper bag and Emily on one arm, grabbed Andrews car seat with the other, and headed inside. I am sure I was a sight to behold.
Inside I quickly (and luckily) located Kristina to ask her where everyone was congregated. She pointed and I boldly marched into the room.
The rest of the memory is quite hazy. I am sure I met a few people, said many embarrasing things, and managed to exude confidence.
After I left I promised myself to never do it again.
Except for one thing: I am now a member of the service soap box team. Gulp. This means I am going to do this whole meeting thing once a month.
This month’s service event is a baby shower. Not any baby shower, but a baby shower to benefit the March of Dimes Teddy Bear Den Program. While it does have a pretty cool event planned, it also includes a virtual shower component! That way, if you don’t live in Utah, or are absolutely terrified of other bloggers (like I am), you can donate this way!
What am I going to do? Well, I’m going to attend the shower of course. Yes, I will be taking both kids, again, but at least I kind of know the other bloggers. Kind of. Well, I still have 16 days to prepare!
Anyone want to come with me? I would really love the extra hands.