I’m sitting here in my cafe, waiting, nervously so, for the band-dudes to show.

Being in a band has been a dream of mine since I was 13.

Here I am, waiting and facing what could be the first step in the right direction to realizing my dream.

Yet I’m a bundle of nerves after I had decided not to be. I’d been through the nervy bit before. I’m done…or so I thought.

Ugh! I am terrible at physically waiting for this. Like waiting rooms and such. Yuck!

I feel wobbly-kneed and heady.

My inner critic is trying to get me to bail, but I won’t let that happen. Not this time!

Meeting strangers can be scary on it’s own, but having to sing for said strangers? Terrifiying!

I’ve never auditioned for anything, really. Just once and I lip-synced and danced, easy-peasy!

I’m not necessarily auditioning for this band thing, it’s my idea/design/space. But I feel like I am.

The one band-dude that I know is coming (the other has mysteriously not responded to emails all week) is very experienced and has been in many bands. He plays bass. And so I’m freaking out. I have to sing for/with this person. My ears are still a bit plugged, so I took a Benadryl, but not sure it will help/hurt. Hoping my voice will come out. Hoping I won’t start coughing or some other awful thing.

But the fat activist in me is screaming its head off, “Stand up! Head up! Smile! Be strong! Sing! OUT LOUD!”

And this both pleases & surprises me. That this fat activist voice in me is louder and clearer than that inner critic.

I’ve come a long way baby…