It's corny and shallow and not very me because over the years I've come to be that girl who just kind of threw on whatever (most certainly not sweats though, um, ew). I like to dress in a fun but comfortable way; and never really got into a certain style, I guess.
However....for the first time in my life (I mean, really, this is no joke) I'm freaking out about what to wear.
Ridiculous, I know. For god's sake, the first time I went on a date with Matthew, I didn't even realize we were on a date. Go ahead and laugh. It's not the first time I've been told I was naïve. Obviously, it was a little late that time to be worrying about what I was wearing (I'd just finished gardening before that epic date, by the way. le sigh).
But this feels big. There's a part of me that just wants to do what I always do: wear my trusty converse and a pair of fun jeans, a nerdy Em-sweater, throw my hair into a messy bun and roll with whatever punches come my way that day.
There's another part of me, though, that's bubbling to the surface: the daughterly part. The reunited family part. This girl's screaming at me to wear a dress! finally figure out how to use a blow-dryer! and whatever you do, don't you dare wear your bright green tights to meet your birthmom at the airport!
So I have this polka dot dress I found at Target on clearance a few years ago that I've yet to wear for several reasons. It even still has the tags on it. It's very retro; an extra-small, fits my small frame perfectly. It has cap sleeves and flowy fabric, but isn't particularly dressy. Well, it could be. If I don't wear my bright green tights. :)
It's not like I want to go all-out and dress up like some nervous nutjob about to meet her mother for the first time. Oh my gosh, wait a minute.
Do you see my predicament? The fact of the matter is that I'm freaking out about everything else and this is all just me trying to find my way back to some semblance of sanity and order. Polka dots seem like a nice way to attempt this. They're ordered, but not. Kinda like chaotic order. Some things make sense about what you're seeing when you look at polka dots and some things don't. Maybe that's why we like them.
I also know that me, the person who could win an Oscar for Most Vociferous Talker in a Short Film can clam up (yes! you read that right!) when I find myself in situations with people who are overwhelming me. Some people just take the reins, start steering. Not me. I can feel myself start to go numb. My mind literally goes blank and I can't even think of one.damn.question to ask. It's not out of lack of interest or being rude. It's just that I'm so overwhelmed. I'd imagine it's not hard for you to understand why this particular situation just might end up causing that.
So I'm trying to somehow make up for that. Show up looking nice. So she doesn't think I just got done gardening and ran over to the airport all nonchalant, like I'd happened to just take a look at my watch and go, "Oh, ya! Today's the day for that, isn't it?" Well, looking nice and what my genius friend told me to do: um, simply tell her that I'm feeling a little overwhelmed and might need some time to pull myself together (genius, I tell ya! Whod've thought to do that?!)
So you're looking at the dress. Too much? Too little? Too dotty? Too indicative of my state of mind this week?
I meet my birthmother for the first time (well, the first time I can remember) on Saturday. April 7th, 2012. It's been 30 years, M.
Maybe I secretly want to wear polka dots so you can find me easily in the crowd. They might make it easier for us not to lose each other again.