05.13.04

So I got the official invite to my 10-year high school reunion the other day.

Ten years. Wow. TEN YEARS. I feel like I�ve lived a hundred lifetimes in that time.

To be perfectly honest, I hated high school.

Well, I wasn�t miserable or anything. I had my close friends; I had a steady boyfriend. I went to the prom (both junior and senior year), I went to football games and got the lead in my high school play. I knew a lot of people I would call friends. But for the most part, the people that I went to school with never made it past �casual acquaintances.�

I was what you would call a �floater;� I wasn�t in any one group but was kind of friends with everybody. Me and my best friend, Sophie, (still my best friend after all these years) just kind of did our own thing. I was dating Douglas my junior year, but he was a grade above me. My senior year was pretty much spent killing time until graduation.

So while I wasn�t completely unhappy during my high school years, I was fully aware of the superficial, immature, and shallow nature of the experience.

I struggled. Like all teenagers, I was completely insecure, but trying desperately to cover it up with a false sense of bravado. I made fun of the cheerleaders and the jocks and the rest of the �popular crowd,� but only because on some level, I wanted to be accepted by that crowd. Accepted, and yet, not a part of it. Popular, and yet maintain my individuality. And, like most kids to whom the actual academic part came easily, I felt a sense of superiority to that group. I knew I was better. I told myself again and again.

But I still started to sweat when I had to walk down their hallway.

When I was talking to Sophie the other day about going to the reunion, I was excited. Sure! It sounded fun! I wasn�t the same insecure person that I used to be! I had matured. I was comfortable in my skin. I was successful and happily married. I look great- - better than when I was in school. Sure! Why not?

Then�the invitation.

And suddenly it started to come back. What if the only people there are the very ones that used to make me insecure? What if no one really talks to me? What if I can�t lose the few extra pounds that I�ve been meaning to? What if no one cares that I�m even there?

The butterflies. The nervousness. The insecurity. Gah.

I need to remind myself that, indeed, I�m NOT that same insecure little girl. I like who I am. I am a woman with a great life and who has made huge accomplishments, and who has a job with a very daunting (if not yawn-inspiring) title. I�m fun! I�m still cute! My husband is hot!

Yes, these are the things I need to remember. These are the things I need to tell myself as I scour the malls for that perfect dress that says I look good but not in a trying-to-hard kind of way.

And also? It�s still the same group from high school. The ones that have developed and matured will be interested in everyone. The ones who haven�t will get embarrassingly drunk and spend the night reliving the glory days when they got action in the back seat of the limo on the way to prom. And I�ll get to laugh at them.

So I am hereby banishing all feelings of insecurity.

And the diet starts tomorrow. (sheepish grin)

before ~ after