Blogher: True Confessions
Note: This was written last night, though not posted until today.
- I almost missed my flight, and by “almost” I’m talking about a margin of three minutes. My alarm, set for 4 a.m., never went off, and only daylight seeping in at 5:38 woke me in time to haul some major ass to the airport for my 6:30 a.m. flight. I am a person with punctuality issues, but even I still can’t believe that I had to be that running-through-the-airport person Sunday morning. That’s months of panic attack fodder right there.
- I saw Beth Adams in the SLC airport but didn’t say hi. It’s weird to recognize someone you’ve never met before — especially outside of Blogher, which was weird enough.
- I skipped the closing keynote because I was too keyed up.
- All the “cognitive behavorial therapy” I had been practicing from that social anxiety book went straight out the window Saturday night and I was a quivering bundle of nerves. I couldn’t get out of my own head.
- By Saturday night I was emotionally drained and kind of glad to go home.
- I had a panic attack on the flight to Baltimore, because the big man sitting next to me was taking all my air.
- I bawled like a baby when I saw Iain and Owen at the arrivals gate.
- I hated myself all day for not being pretty and funny and outgoing.
- I wanted to die by six o’clock.
- I am finally feeling better about things.
I am trying not to kick myself about being shy and quiet and nervous; I did do the best I could. I can’t be anything other than what I am, and if that person has yellow teeth and frizzy hair and basset hound eyes, then I am just going to have to get over it. If that person is quiet and uncomfortable in groups, then I am just going to have to learn how to deal with that.
Let me explain it this way: In 2001, Iain and I and our friends Darin and Carla went on a two-week hiking expedition in the Teton Wilderness. It was fucking difficult; I had an infection and had to hit the ER in Jackson Hole for antibiotics before we could proceed. I had never been tent-camping before and had never covered more than a couple of miles of ground on foot. I had never been west of Chicago, never carried a pack, never gone two weeks without a shower.
I hated it. I hated the rolling meadows, I hated the majestic mountains, I hated the clear streams. I hated the bears. I hated Iain for bringing me there and Darin and Carla for enjoying it. I kicked things and fumed and grumbled. It was the worst, most demanding trip I’d ever taken and I couldn’t wait to get home.
Then we got home, after a few days of driving, and got hundreds of dollars worth of film developed, and something funny happened: I realized what a great trip it had been. The worst, most demanding trip of my life was also the best, and I cradled the memory of it for years. It was the reason I knew I could marry Iain: He endured it all with me, helped me through it instead of fighting me and leaving me in his dust.
Blogher, I think, is the same situation. I’m couldn’t wait to get home, get the hell out of there, leave California far far behind me and scrub away the doubt and self-loathing and anxiety. For me, who has had increasing problems socializing with people I’m not related to, and for whom being in large groups of people, especially people I respect and want to like me, is akin to torture: well, this was the worst and most demanding trip of my life. From beginning to end it was all about mingling and schmoozing and talking to strangers, and worst of all, operating without backup. I don’t know if I can communicate how terrifying that is for me. It would be one thing if I had Iain and Owen there to ground me, and friends who’ve known me in person for months or years, but I did not. I clung to Jess and prayed instead.
But I think that, in a few days, when the drama has worn off, I will be able to recognize this weekend as a treasure. I plan to take a little break from the internet and process things, go through my collected business cards and reconstruct the people I met and the ideas that brewed. I plan to do a huge, obnoxious Links Post in which I link to all the people and things and sites that flitted across my radar. I want to take some time to let it all sink in and let all my anxiety filter out, leaving behind only the amazing parts.
I’m not quite there yet, but at least now I’ve got hope. And sleeping in my own bed doesn’t hurt, either.
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17 Responses to “Blogher: True Confessions”
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you did get through it and i know that you’ll look back and 1) be proud of how well you handled things 2) realize what a kick ass time you had 3) want to go again
glad you’re home safe and sound!
Well, you coulda fooled me, Supa! If I remember correctly, you walked up to our little group all by yourself and asked to join (the smokers!) in. That’s courage in itself!
I think you just don’t give yourself the credit you deserve. You never struck me as terrified at all.
It was so great meeting you. Next year will be even better!
oh, supa. i get it. last night i left a party after 15 minutes even though i think there were people i knew there because it was just too much. i’m so impressed that you went to blogher and every time i see you in some random flickr photostream i think how goshdarn cute you are.
I had a good time and I too was dying to get home. I’m glad you feel better now, and I’m sorry we didn’t get to bump into each other and compare Owens!
Congrats into your first major foray into something of this calibre. I would have liked to have been one of the 20 or so guys there because I’ve heard such excellent things about BlogHer. Did you meet Arieanna Foley (Schwebber)?
OK well it was overwhelming, even for me. And believe it or not, I really hate crowds too. In fact I hate small groups. I prefer one on one.
But I think you were beautiful and funny and I saw a lot of people talking to you who I don’t think were dying to get away from you.
I think you did well and I think you have a lot to be proud of. And I think next time you should bring the baby == so I can steal him.
It sounds like you had a good time, despite all your misgivings! I’m also glad you can see things differently in retrospect. Keep up with the book! I think it will get better.
Welcome back!
It seems to me many moms think like you. When I go to the library, all the moms seem to be checking eachother out, no one really says anything. I do the same. It’s hard to make new friends and meet new people. And I totally understand the anxiety associated with meeting a bunch of people you know by word only… “were they lying to me when they said they liked my blog?”, etc. From all the other blogs I’ve read of the ladies that went to the conference, everyone seemed like they had a good time and I didn’t get a sense of cattiness. Maybe She-bloggers aren’t catty like the rest of the women on this planet? Or maybe they’re just better at hiding it
honestly. you seemed awesome and ok.
also. i felt exactly the same way and missed a few talks to “rest” and on the way home i hade to take a sedative from AFTER Bloger angst, if you can imagine.
in fact. you ARE awesome and ok.
xo
OMG! I felt the SAME way Saturday night. I was exhausted and so upset I couldn’t just go up to the people that I met and be all happy social. Friday night I was able to keep up but Saturday…oy. Plus, Saturday night there was a lot more people I think!
By the way, I totally didn’t get the nervous vibe from you AT all. You looked really comfortable. I was admiring how you could just walk up to people and get pictures with them actually!
I am kicking myself for not talking to you more on Sat. morning at our table. I didn’t talk because I was feeling the exact same way. I am finding a lot of us felt that way. Hope you had a good time and look forward to reading you more.
LOL- i skipped the closing ceremonies because i was hot, tired and over it. but it was nice to meet you!
Supa - I had NO IDEA you were going through all of that. What I saw was an attractive, confident woman who seemed to be enjoying herself — and I was so happy to get to meet you (although disappointed that we didn’t get to have more than a superficial conversation. You see, I tend to be bad in crowds myself, and awkward and unable to think of something to say — at least, without benefit of alcohol, but that’s a fine line easily crossed and when we met, I think I’d benefited a little bit too much). I hope you do look back and see the weekend as a gem… and I hope we get another opportunity to meet in person.
Again - I thought you were lovely and poised and merely taking it all in. You gave off no anxious vibes to me whatsoever.
How I wish we could have talked more.
I wish I’d been more in control of my facilites Friday so I could have met you. And then I could have hung out with you on Saturday night instead of retreating quickly to the hotel room.
THere’s always next year. (though I don’t know if I’ll go again ….)
BTW, your son is adorable.
OMG YOU GUYS.
Thank you all, so much. You’re saying very nice and reassuring things and, by today (Friday) I am actually starting to miss Blogher. Like, I wish it was an every-weekend sort of thing; by the second or third weekend I might even start socializing in earnest! Imagine that!
Those of you I met, the experience was superrad. And those I have yet to meet — well, that’s what the Internet is for, at least until next year (if I go) (and maybe I will).
i love you and am super proud of you.
also: i am supa proud of you. =P
Make sure you leave a message at the desk for me during BlogHer in Chicago. I promise to act like a morphine pump, only I will be dispensing calming absolution from mommy guilt and anxiety! I tried to do this as much as possible in San Jose, but maybe I need to get a booth or something in Chicago?