I have been stuck in one of those self-hate spirals lately. I'm tired, I'm not eating well and I have a lot on my plate. All this translates to lots on my mind and when it all comes together, things don't go so well.
One of my coping mechanisms with anxiety is to try to plan for every conceivable scenario. I know that one can't plan for everything and somehow my coping mechanism just becomes another anxiety trigger. Sometimes I'm really good at setting myself up for disaster.
By the end of last week, I had worked myself up into such a frenzy that I wasn't a good enough writer to be at BlogHer. And as if that wasn't bad enough, I then decided that I was too fat and ugly to go there too. And is if that wasn't bad enough, I decided to tweet about it. Endlessly.
I lost 2 followers. I was upset about this and then I thought about it. I would have dropped me too. I was bored of my own voice so I tweeted it out there and then got upset when it bored others. I got a tweet reply telling me to snap out of it. She threw in a nice compliment, which really did help, but the first part, it was like she grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me hard. And I totally needed it.
I put the iPhone down. I stopped complaining all over the internet.
Why did I sign up to go to BlogHer? I wanted to write better, to blog better. I thought it would be fun. I thought it would be a good way to network and to meet people in the blogging community. I hoped I'd meet some people whose writing I enjoyed. I did not think once about wanting people to think I was pretty. That never factored into my decision to go.
I'm planning on attending with a long-time friend, but I'm also planning to meet up with some new friends I've never actually met in person. I read that there will be about 4,000 other people at this conference. I generally keep to my little circle on most days and the thought of all these new people got me all nervous and stupid.
I read the "snap out of it" tweet while I was staring at the make-up aisle in my local drugstore trying to find the perfect shade of foundation for my slightly tanned face. Usually I buy the lightest color they sell and it's fine. I was holding two bottles up to my wrist trying to match my skin tone. I put one down to read the tweet that flashed in and I remembered:
I'm going to BlogHer to be a better writer.
No one will care if I wear Classic Ivory or Natural Ivory. No one will care what I weigh. No one will care if all of my outfits are new or if they're old. No one will care if I wear my hair straight or curly, up or down. No one will care if I'm wearing Spanx or not. No one will care.
And if they do, well, too bad.
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