Shortly after Tori was born, I discovered that my town is home to a very large, very active mom’s group. With the click of my mouse, I gained access to a huge pool of potential friends—not to mention opportunities to get out and about.
But I never RSVPed for a single meet up.
I was afraid of being judged. Of being shunned. Of reliving the social awkwardness of my teenage years. I was sure they’d take one look at me and know me for the imposter I was quite certain I was.
So I stayed away.
But you know what? I’m kind of a social creature. And my self-imposed isolation started to weigh pretty heavily on me (see also: last week’s complete meltdown).
So I took the plunge.
I RSVPed for an outing involving cocktails and cupcakes—a winning combination (in my book) if there ever was one. And since the number of attendees was rather small, I knew my inner hermit wouldn’t freak out at the sight of a huge crowd.
But still, I was nervous.
My pulse raced as I fixed my makeup and re-did my hair. My heart pounded when my husband finally shooed me out to my car, threatening to drive me himself if I didn’t get on the road. And when I arrived at the hostess’ house? I was so nervous I could hardly swallow.
But in I went.
And at first, there were some awkward silences. I found myself babbling—trying (overly) hard to make them like me. But eventually, my nerves subsided, and I found (much to my surprise) that I was having a good time.
Did I meet my future BFF? I don’t know—probably not. But I did spend a pleasant evening with a bunch of really interesting women (and ate some tasty cupcakes while I was at it).
I left with a warm glow in my heart (one only partially induced by the alcohol). I think maybe it is possible to make friends as a grown-up. I know I’ll go back.
Turns out that mom groups aren’t nearly as scary as I thought. And that? Is a good thing, indeed.