When asked for an update, my friend Karla said: ‘I have a nanny. She comes once or twice a week. And I go to these meetings, where…’. I stopped listening as soon as I heard ‘and I go’. Me? I also go. I go places with my daughter or I don’t go at all. I don’t have a nanny.
Am I happy? Of course! Is it difficult to find new friends, make connections? Yup, it certainly is.
And that was all I needed. That update from Karla. Nope, it’s not what you think. I still don’t have a nanny (working on it, promise you), but I did get to go out (one of those rare occasions).
It doesn’t matter where I went (it was way too hot there, I was literally sweating and my face was burning. Talk about trying to make a good first impression). It doesn’t matter who was there (people from all walks of life, plus a cockroach, which I noticed half dead under the table). And it really is not relevant what we drank (I had a glass of wine in a pub. But it could have been worse). What matters is that I was alone and did not have a beautiful little girl to hide behind.
I don’t know how many of you are at ease walking into a room full of strangers and striking up a conversation, keeping up that conversation, not to bore others and not to be bored yourself. I certainly am not. And on my way there, I did want to turn around and go back home, telling myself and didn’t need any of it and the safety of my own home was much more inviting. But you don’t know me well enough if you think I give up so easily. I love meeting new people and hearing their stories. I also don’t mind sharing my own stories. The problem is how to get from the point where you enter the pub to the point where you are telling stories.
I entered the room holding tight to my glass of wine, smile plastered on my face. ‘Fake it till you make it’, – I repeated in my mind.
The six or so people who were already there all looked up. ‘Keep smiling,’ – I told myself.
As fast as I could, I lowered myself into a chair next to the closest person.
The glass safe at hand, I looked left and right, listened, and kept smiling. Once there, surrounded by others, it didn’t take long for me to join in. I listened, I talked, I even laughed. I could also feel more than one pair of eyes boring into me. It’s like the people couldn’t get enough of me, I’m not kiddin’. Conversation flowed. It went from that person to another one, and then to the third one and so on. I was finally comfortable in my own skin.
It felt good. I had a great time, and I tried really hard to forget about the cockroach. Soon enough I announced to my new friends I was about to leave. Timing was everything: being one of the first ones there made it easier for me to join in conversations; leaving early enough, when I was in the highest of spirits, allowed me to end the night just right .
With a genuine smile on my face I left. It was a good night.
Except it was not quite over yet.
‘I’m glad I met you’, – my phone flashed a message. I did take the numbers of those I talked to the most.
‘Thanks for a good company’, – a flash from a different number.
As I got ready for bed, I whispered: ‘Thank you, Karla’.