I would describe myself as fairly confident - some would probably say very confident!
There aren't many situations I find myself in that I can't work my way around and I pride myself on being able to manage even the most dreary dinner party.
I'm not fussed about glitz and glamour - I prefer a dog walk to shopping and the hairdresser.
In the last few days I have found myself really getting anxious about my physical self. I am too fat, I limp, my hair needs cutting, my skin is ghastly.....and so the list goes on. This is so out of character for me as I usually just don't care but now it is causing a sense of panic.
I can recognise that this is about not feeling acceptable. I am about to create a situation where I allow my birth mother to personally reject me - again.
I don't want there to be any reasons for her to do this - particularly ones I could control (note to self - get a new hair dresser!). I don't want her to find me ugly or disgusting, a source of shame. I don't want her to think what a lucky escape she had off loading me to some unsuspecting family.
I want her to be amazed at how great I am and on this basis be willing to give me a little bit of her time to allow me to breath the same air.
Wow! Some old lady in New South Wales, who I don't know, has this kind of impact on me - I am 53 years old for goodness sake.
Nothing I can do about the belly roll now but I may just pick up some perfume!
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