Small Slice

In a cruel slapping motion, fate has scheduled my monthly bloating and comfort-food craving and intense emotional outbursts for this coming weekend.  BlogHer ain't ready for this, I can guarantee it.
Add in the fact that I am reliving my youth (specifically, my teenaged acne) and you have one mama who is very glad that I can at least say that I've lost some weight. 

While this week will take me away from home, and tempt me with all sorts of opportunities to indulge, I plan on sticking with the good eating habits I've developed.  No late night snacks for me! 

I have to admit, there is a certain amount of terror involved in going to an event like BlogHer.  Last year, I was horrified to realize that with any group of passionate bloggers, there will be photos taken right and left, and worst of all - I would have no control of them.  No chance to photoshop out that zit, or crop out my large rear.  I had to let go of my fierce desire to only show my 'good' side, to edit out the weird expressions or the unflattering angles.  At BlogHer - I left my online persona behind, and for better or worse, became three dimensional. 

The conference was a smashing success, and while I was by no means a focal point of the conference, I turned up in enough embarrassingly bad photos to make anyone dive head-first into a vat of Ben and Jerry's.  I cringed, and cursed my inability to just hold a pose and smile like normal people.  And then, I shocked myself and let it go.  I took another good look at the goofball woman in those photos, and looked past The Butt and the open mouth (probably shouting instructions to the camera person) and saw a woman having the time of her life. 

I've realized that I cannot photoshop myself in daily life.  I cannot slim my upper arms or smooth my wrinkles for a trip to the grocery store.  I can't freeze my face into the perfect smile.  I can't tell people what to see when they look at me. 

After the birth of my children, I felt like I had a shield around me.  There was this sense of invisibility.  People looked at my children, and smiled.  They looked right through me. 

For a while, this was a relief.  I wasn't feeling at my best - I had gained 40 pounds with my first pregnancy, and wasn't losing it quickly.  When I became pregnant with my second child, nine months after the birth of my first, I was relieved.  I could just let my body do its thing.  I drew my invisibility cloak around me and sighed.  Now, three and a half years after the birth of my youngest, I no longer have a baby in a sling to draw the eye away from my figure.  I rarely have a stroller to hide behind.  I notice that people are making eye contact with me once again.

It feels like I'm on stage, and I haven't learned all my lines, and I've gotten one of those mall makeup counter makeovers, hoping for pretty and ending up with hooker.

Once again, I'm facing the bloggers-with-cameras-and-Flickr firing squad.  I have already made my peace with the fact that there will be unflattering photos of me appearing on the internet.  And I'm dusting off my penetrating glasses - the ones that allow me to see past my own hangups to the woman everyone else sees. 

But I'm also working on learning to keep my mouth shut and smile.