DIANA REPUBLIC

It isn’t easy being me. It may surprise you; I know it surprises me. I struggle with making connections with other people. I can speak to them, I can have a conversation with them, but I have a hard time connecting. It is part shyness and part isolation as a byproduct of my childhood and my alcoholism. It is a ridiculously hard battle: one that exhausts me and one that exists completely in my head where no one can see it.

I registered for BlogHer ’09, a conference for bloggers being held in Chicago, months and months ago and have been looking forward to it with great anticipation. Attending a conference with the women and men whose blogs I read and whom I follow on Twitter and potentially meeting some of them was really exciting. It was in the same breath terrifying to be potentially meeting people whose opinions matter to me and whose writing I admire. I was excited for the conference and chose not to think about my nerves. I didn’t want to paralyze myself.

Day one of the conference went really well. I jumped into speaking with strangers at the breakfast for Newbies and continued to chat and exchange cards with people all day. When given the opportunity, I even introduced myself to people who I read and recognized which was a milestone for me. I loved being there and being around the energy that radiated from the bloggers. Everyone was truly lovely and it was a banner day. 

The real highlight for me of day one was the BlogHer community keynote address. I was moved to both laughter and tears by the writing these men and women presented. The honesty of their stories and their amazing writing inspired me to no end. They set the bar pretty high, but they gave me something to reach for. I stayed until the cocktail party when my back and my feet begged to go home. That and the fear of attending a cocktail party where I knew so few people without, you know, cocktails was a little too much for me. 

Day two unfortunately was not such a success. The morning’s keynote had a truly impressive panel and the discussion was really interesting. The second session I attended featuring the Vaginally Challenged Bloggers (men in case you hadn’t guessed) was a really fun session.

Then the wheels fell off. It was such a minor incident; not even really an incident. I misplaced all the business cards that I had been given on the first day. I was looking for one in particular for a meeting I wanted to attend, but when I realized they were gone I lost my footing. My chin began to quiver and before I could stop myself, I began to cry and couldn’t stop. It was not rational (I later found them in between the seats of my car). I didn’t really need any of the cards with the exception of the one I had been looking for. There was no tragedy, but in that moment my confidence was gone. I tried to pull it together in the ladies’ room with a little cover up and some deep breathing, but Diana’s balls had left the building. I bargained with myself and walked around the exhibit area as I tried to screw up the courage to go into the luncheon and get my mojo back, but to no avail. I felt so outside the happy chatting groups and so defeated that I had no choice but to call it a day.

I began to slide into the ugly cry as I waited for my car to be brought around by the valet. I was so disappointed. I was so envious of the 1399 other bloggers who were forging friendships and connections with ease (or so it seemed to me). I was so angry that such a nonissue could derail me. I managed to overcome my social insecurities on the first day and had no reason to expect anything but the same on the second day.

On the whole it was a good experience. Despite my disappointment and frustration, there were successes in this experience. I could have stayed home – it wouldn’t be the first time. I could have watched in silence as my favorite blogger walked by or held on tight to all my cards and met no one. I did my best and this time it will have to be good enough.

BlogHer ’10 is more than a year away. I’d like to think that next year I will make it to New York and stay through the whole conference. I’d like to think that maybe next year I will have a friend to go with or at least that my confidence won’t vanish at the first bump in the road.