My Blogger Party Dream

Goo woke me this morning at 7ish, and after getting him settled with his older brother and sister, I went back to bed for a while.  It is times like these that I dream most vividly, and that I remember my dreams the best, and today was no exception.  Today I dreamed that I was at a party with a bunch of my bloggy friends…mostly people that I was pretty friendly with when I was at my old blog on Blogger…some of whom have not followed me over to my new blog. 

In my dream, I sat next to Mishi and rocked little Alexis to sleep while her blog-famous Mom was sociable. I waited excitedly to meet Lunanik because she was running late. There were others there that I don’t know. There was a beautiful Indian woman with her three gorgeous daughters. There was a woman with curly hair and glasses who had, like, eight children. Stella and I had a great chat. Mamarazzi was there dressed all in pink. It was a fun dream.

And yet, just as in real life, I felt slightly seperated from a few of those bloggers I admire most. Mr. Lady, BusyDad, and Huckdoll were huddled in a corner in deep conversation. OhMommy was looking fab in her stillettos, chatting with Joeprah.  I stood back and watched.  I was envious of their connection.  I wanted to be a part of it. 

I think about this, though, and I don’t understand myself.  These are all people I am on friendly terms with.  Busydad and I have had some great conversations via comments.  Huckdoll stood up for me in a major, humbling way when I got some hate mail.  Joeprah gave me a great review once on his blog.  All of these other bloggers would be, I’m sure, generous and friendly and gracious and wonderful if I were to meet them in person.  They would not, in a million years, think of me as “less” than them, even though my readership, especially here at my new blog, has gone way down and I’ve been posting much less than I used to.  So the fact is, the problem lies with me.  Once again, I feel inadequate.  Once again, I feel not good enough.  And as a result, I’m being held back by my own low self-expectations. 

I know it was just a dream, but I should have gotten up and talked to those people standing around.  Why would I wait for them to approach me?  I am not shy.  I am not introverted.  I am outgoing and friendly and funny and fun.  Why am I so afraid?  Why do I think that I will be rejected?

I think dreams can, at times, teach us a lot about ourselves.  This one, for sure, showed me just how much I’m hurting myself by having these ridiculous fears.  It taught me that I need to think more of myself than I do, and I need to figure out a way to gain confidence and to know that I’m a pretty great person.  Other people tell me all the time.  It’s time I started believing them.