I don’t know what to call it. I was invited to a white party this weekend by a mutual friend. Initially, I was excited about it. It was a chance to get out and party and meet new people. Woohoo! But I then became extremely apprehensive. A white party? The pressure… I need a white outfit of some sort. I never buy white – I have the propensity to spill things. White. Not cream, not offwhite, not eggshell, not mother of pearl, not ecru. White. What to do with my hair? And shoes? Please don’t get me started.
*I’m learning as I get older to work on my issues with what I look like and what I think I look lile. The self-image phase skipped me as a pre-teen/teenager but its roaring its ugly head in my 30s.*
So I get dressed. I fix my hair. Fix up my face a lil bit. Hop in the car, drive, park. And I swear the minute I parked all I really wanted do is go back home. I had absolutely no desire to go. I didn’t want to go upstairs and be awkward. I didn’t want to feel overdressed or underdressed. I didn’t want to stand out more than I already would. A million things popped in my head. So I pulled out my phone and wrote this. And I’m sitting here in my car, parked, still debating.
Seriously. There might be something wrong with me.