I don’t know about you, but the 58-year-old woman that I am, can still regress to the insecurities of a 15-year-old girl. About a month a go, I was invited to a Galentine’s party by a dear friend. The anxiety came from the realization that out of the twenty women invited, I knew maybe five. I would describe myself as an extrovert sprinkled with introvert qualities that give people the illusion that I thrive in a group of strangers, but that is not the case. There are those insecurities that bubble up when these types of gatherings occur.
On my way to the party last night, I reminded myself how fortunate I am to be included with this group of women. I acknowledged that while I might not know some of them, they must be pretty special since my friend is one of the kindest, warmest individuals I have ever met. My personal pep talk was blanketed in positive affirmations of why I am enough. That I bring a lot to the table and, honestly, my discomfort is really about unhealed wounds leftover from being an insecure teenager. I am not the girl anymore, but there are those moments where the feelings of not being enough rise to the surface.
Upon my arrival, I took a deep breath, put on a beaming smile and greeted my friend with a hug full of gratitude for being included. Instant calm came when I saw one of my closest friends already in the mix. It was a magical night full of surprises. I met some amazing women and found how interwoven life can be. While I thought I didn’t know many of the women, I was in awe about how connected we all are through schools, mutual friends, work, etc. Our gracious hostess really brought the theme of the party home. That theme was connection.
I left there being grateful that I opted to attend. If you know me, I am the lady lounging in her PJs by 6 p.m. and this party started at 7. You know I love you, if I forgo my usual routine and embrace my discomfort. I could have easily declined the invitation, but my goal as I age is to accept that social anxiety is nothing to ignore. If I resist, the intense feelings will persist. If I allow those feelings to smother me, I will miss some beautiful experiences.
I feel like we need to normalize those feelings. Honestly, I imagine that I wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable. What would happen if we all admitted to our true emotions? For me, being transparent is an opportunity to heal those old insecurities that creep up.
Last night was a testament to the power of friendship and my own victory of being okay not being okay. That is the definition of self- love. I accept that this is just who I am, but the real win is just moving forward despite it.
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