I'm glad I went to Chicago. I met some amazing people and even made (I hope) some new friends. I don't regret anything and would do it again in a heartbeat. Having said that, I will admit that it was a difficult weekend for me. More difficult than I ever would have imagined. There was an "incident" and a "revelation"...
It wasn't a true incident. I will freely admit that it existed mostly in my own head. But, since I live in my head, it wound up having a profound effect.
I want to state up front that I will not name names. The "who" is not important. The "who" did not mean for their comments to throw me into this internal tailspin. In fact, what was said was not meant to be cruel and they did no wrong by saying it. But--I'm getting ahead of myself. Here it goes...
I overheard a conversation about me. In this conversation, I heard two things that bothered me:
- I was described as being the "bigger" of the two Li[y]ndas. Granted, this is a true statement. You might even call it a fact. I understand that telling us apart could be confusing since we both have dark hair about the same length (with bangs, even). But, I'm taller; I was wearing a green/blue tye-die-ish shirt; I have a Southern accent; (psst...I'm in the next room). Nope, none of these served to distinguish. It was my weight that stood out. Needless to say, I was mortified to hear (especially among a group of people who are/were "fat") that my size was how people were telling us apart.
- I also heard that I was "wasted" and that there was no need to make an effort to meet me since I "wouldn't remember" it anyway. I will admit that I did say to a few people "I'm drunk" or something along those lines. Let me explain...I don't really drink. I used to drink, but not-so-much for the last several years. I was tipsy after only 1 glass of wine and was surprised by it...thus my exclamation of "drunk"-ness. I was trying to be friendly & funny. It's a bit embarrassing that this behavior was mis-construed as being "so wasted that I wouldn't even remember talking to people." I know I am the one that used the term "drunk"--but was I really acting that way? I know I wasn't stumbling; I know I wasn't slurring my words; I don't look drunk in the pictures I've seen. Let's just say that it was a blow to my ego that my efforts to be outgoing were ridiculous enough that people believed I was on the verge of passing out.
Now, there's no need for outrage. I repeat...no need for outrage. I present the details of the conversations just as a means of background--setting the stage for the real story. And, there's a bit of catharsis in the telling of it.
If you were part of this conversation, there's no need to "fess up" or even apologize. I hold no grudges. And, while these comments were unflattering, there was no malice in them.
I think this is all I'm up for today. In Part 2 I will talk about the Real Story--which is my reaction to the conversation and, more importantly, what I learned about myself as a result.
Cheers!
