Homecoming Post 4: Anxieties

I am so happy that I went to my 15-year college reunion, but I had a lot of anxiety about going beforehand. Right until the day that I was supposed to leave to go, I was thinking about staying home. Something about seeing the people that I came of age with after not seeing them for a long time makes me want to roll under the bed and hide. I have an issue with comparing my life to that of others, which is truly a recipe for failure. Luckily, I would not have gotten a refund on my Air B&B if I hadn't gone or I would have missed out on a good time. I hear that other people have anxieties too. They have the dignity not to talk about them. Luckily, that's not me. Next year, if you are considering missing out on your homecoming because of your anxieties, just take a gander at mine, then pack and leave, knowing you are not the most neurotic person in the room. 

My Weight

I am fat. I was fat when I started college at 18. This is not news. What may be news, however, is how fat I have gotten since. It's a bit ridiculous. And embarrassing. And dangerous. And shocking. And incredible. These are the adjectives I am choosing, so I was very nervous about what my judgemental ass peers were going to say. Thank God fakeness is real. I knew that no one would say anything to my face. That didn't stop me from daydreaming about arriving at the school only for everyone to point at me and scream.

I'm Broke

So many of the people I went to school with are rich or on the bus to get there. I would get on the bus too, but I don't have enough change. 

The Old Me

Once upon a time before life happened and before I decided to try to be more like Jesus, I could have been perceived as somewhat of a jerk. It depends on who you ask. I was the worse kind too. I was the kind that could dish it but could not take it. I would not be surprised if there was still someone out there with an ax to grind that they would so beautifully chop my head off with at homecoming.  

Chin Hairs

I am scared that I will soon be growing a beard. I see the tiny pores under my chin that look like they are fixin' to sprout hairs. This keeps me awake at night. I spent most of my spare time as a child plucking my grandma's chin hairs. I am too young! 

These are just a few of the anxieties that pollute my mind. Do you feel better? Thought you would.