On top of the little loaf I pinch just thinking about that scenario, I'm also frustrated that my anxiety gets so bad that I actually want to literally shit myself.
I don't let my friends meet each other, mainly because I'm pretty sure they're not going to get along. On my birthday I had my best friend, ex boyfriend, and dude friends at Goose's Acre, and the entire time before everyone arrived I felt like I had a bad case of the nervous farts. Once everyone arrived and chatted, my fear was gone, but my anxiety ruins the ability to get drunk, or have fun, or let my parents meet his parents.
I didn't even want this to happen until our maybe wedding day. What's so wrong with that? Why do you people want to meet? I find it all highly unnecessary. I've expressed more than enough times to my mother how nervous I get about my dad and her meeting ... well... anyone and I'm really positive it's because of the, "We must meet every living soul that you like and want in your life!" rule. Granted I will probably do the EXACT same thing to my child for safety reasons and whatnot, but for me it was anxiety inducing, paper bag needing, sweaty handed nonsense. They're being good parent's, but I felt so uncomfortable and that made the experience even MORE uncomfortable. I'm totally cool with meeting new people, I actually like it. I'm friendly and I don't know too many people I can't have a valid conversation with, but sweet butter on a stick I feel like my parents are, "hard to please." That is in quotes because apparently I think they are, but they think they are not. Therefore, they are not................... According to them. If we were going to a bar, having a drink and they casually met, it would be super different, but this shit is formal. This is being orchestrated. It's not by chance, it's fully on purpose. WHY? JUST FUCKING WHY? I feel like that makes it 65 times more awkward than it would be if the dad's met at a strip club and the mom's met at Bizarre Bizarre. I need it to be over already.
So this Saturday, I will look nice and go to a dinner that already has me questioning who is going to pay? What will they talk about? How many bathroom breaks is appropriate before it gets fucking weird, and can I order a good amount of alcohol and chug it before I have to walk into my own personal version of hell?
My palms are sweating already.
Why do I even have to be there? I get my relationship is on the serious side, but holy elf on a shelf I don't think it's even relevant if they're trying to get to know the person who birthed their child's mate.
I blow most everything out of proportion. I am a drama queen in the quietest sense. In my head things are exploding and guns are being shot and clowns are chasing dolphins with Miley Cyrus foam fingers. In reality it's just that someone crunched a chip and I know how much my mom despises that so it's now the creepy LSD version of World War 3.
I know...
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