People have said the nicest things they can think to say. Things that will encourage me. Things that make me feel a lot better about seeing people I’ve known in the past and those that I will get the chance to meet.
Whether sooner or later.
But it doesn’t stop me from having the fears and insecurities. The ones that I can’t hide or pretend don’t exist.
I’m glad to be able to go to NY. To share our story, and talk with the many that supported us when we needed it most. I’m glad there’s success that we can enjoy with those that have worked so hard (missing those that won’t be there) and we’ll have friends that means so much that we don’t get to see often enough.
It’ll even be good/weird to have this opportunity to show Pete this blogger side of my life. When he’s only ever really seen me being mommy and wife, he’ll get to see me being a WRITER.
So, while I’d like this to be a wonderful experience and know that I’ll be able to knock the socks off the folks I meet, I’m scared.
I’ve never been scared before.
I manage to be confident and assured, even when I don’t know what’s going on.
This time, I’m petrified.
From the airplane and cabs to new showers and meeting people with my crooked face, I’m not confident anymore.
No amount of words seem to make that ok.
I’ve got a list, I’ve got my cards, I’ve got a few plans, I’m eager to see friends.
Another side effect of strokes I wasn’t expecting.