I went out last night. Sort of a last minute thing – a friend texted. Sleepover was lined up (bless grandparents) and off we went in the cold dreary rain, rushing to get downtown and in the door and set up.
The place was completely jam packed and I walked around a few times, looking for a table or a seat at the bar, but ended up standing around by myself and waiting for the music to start. I refuse to pull out my phone; I should be able to entertain myself with my own company for a few minutes. Tyler starts playing and I listen and watch, eyeing the table next to me and wondering if they’re ordering more drinks or the bill.
I felt awkward there. In my head, I told myself – you never get out. Nobody is watching you or cares that you’re here alone. They’re all with people or alone also enjoying themselves. No one’s judging. Have a good time.
I always think I don’t care what other people think or me, but of course I do.
Then a young guy came over to me, early 20s if I had to guess. Why are you standing here? He asked. You haven’t moved since I walked by 10 minutes ago, he said. I just stared at him. He went on to say I should go find myself someone to flirt with and bring home, which I obviously wasn’t interested in, but it did make me realize I was standing around waiting for people to arrive, to rescue me, rather than actually enjoying myself being on my own.
So I headed to the bar. One bartender gave me a free glass of wine, and the other a huge smile and asked how my son was doing, making small talk about Halloween. I chatted to the guy standing next to me at the bar for a bit, making jokes, then to a few ladies clustered around. I made my way closer to the music and then got myself dancing along.
I started feeling more comfortable in my own skin. I talked easily to a few other girls on the dance floor. I clinked glasses with an older man leaning on a cane and nursing a beer, and he introduced me to his brother who realized he had seen me in this video singing along with Tyler and our little dog.
Soon enough my friends showed up, then some family too, and we danced and laughed the rest of the night away. It ended with us closing out the bar and then getting poutine at 3am, not worrying about getting up early, just telling stories and hanging out.
It felt like I was in my 20s again, but I was never really a carefree person who doesn’t worry about little things. I’m an overthinker sometimes. I’m careful about what I do. I worry. I wonder what people will say – and even though I thought becoming a mom changed that, focussing me on what’s important, I still feel anxious and out of place sometimes. Slipping on a bit of a brave face and forcing myself to have a good time to overcome these little doubts helped last night. I ended up enjoying myself, really, truly, even on my own in a crowd. I’m pleased about that.