Original post here
First, a big thank you to everyone who read through the first post, despite its length, and showed your support. It really made me feel the love, and I doubt I would have posted a follow up without the amount of support you have shown. I LOVE this community!
Now onto the story of last night, the second night of a wedding party that I never anticipated attending.
Tuesday night was a high for me. It changed more about my way of thinking and overall outlook on life than anything else I’ve ever done in the 20ish years I’ve been actively working on weight loss. It made me realize that I had built this veritable fortress in my head that was preventing me from experiencing any kind of happiness.
I’ve posted before on this, but part of my journey resulted in realizing that happiness is not a state, but rather a reward. Once I recognized that it is futile to chase after the elusive perpetual state of happiness, that that is only a false ideal that we are beaten into believing exists from commercial and social media, it helped set the stage for what happened this week. It’s not the headline, but I feel it’s really worth drawing attention to.
So, with that in mind, and after Tuesday’s incredible adventure, Wednesday night came around.
I had spent most of Wednesday reading comments from my original post, and sharing it with people in my life that are important to me. It felt like an intermission, where the first half of the story was told, but the climatic conclusion was still yet to come.
So I was incredibly excited about last night. The friends I had made the night before had invited me to return for an even bigger party. I had felt so welcomed and accepted the previous night that I couldn’t help but fixate and become all but obsessed about what was to come last night.
Then, it got weird again. I had built up so much anticipation for part two of the story that by the time I had finished work, the doubts had started working their way into my brain. “How could the night possibly live up to the standards I had built up over the last 24 hours?” Anxiety set in. “Last night was a novel experience. Novel experiences tend to be one-shot deals. This wasn’t going to be novel any more. Were people even going to care that I was there? Am I just going to be the fat guy in the corner again now?”
I decided not to go. I didn’t want to ruin the experience and the memory from the risk of things not living up to my anticipations. I convinced myself that nothing was going to top the previous night and if I tried, I’d only end up trivializing the memory.
So shortly after work, I crawled into my old familiar comfort zone. I laid down on my bed, closed my eyes, and fell asleep. “Last night was enough,” I convinced myself. “No need to risk disappointment.”
An hour later I woke up to the alluring beat of the music that had caught my attention the previous night. It was a steady, dance-worthy thrum that pulled me out of my slumber. I’d like to say it was a gentle awakening, but it wasn’t. I woke up in a panic.
“What the fuck am I doing?!” I shouted to myself. “I can’t miss this! The story isn’t over! What was I thinking???”
I jumped out of bed, cleaned myself up and got dressed. I all but bolted to the door. I was no longer afraid of the potential disappointment that I could face, but rather I was in a state of panic that I was going to miss a unique opportunity that wasn’t going to happen again any time soon.
I rushed a few doors down, angry at myself for building up excuses again in my head with reasons not to go.
I got to the house, and there were a lot of people out front. They were all in Indian formalwear—gorgeous coloured, well-fitted garb that just exuded celebration and joy. (Subnote for the cynics out there: yes, I use em dashes, and no, I’m not AI 😝)
There were so many people on the front lawn that my inner shithead voice was screaming: “turn back, underdressed white boy! You don’t belong here!” But, I punched that inner voice in the face and let the big smile that was itching at the corners of my mouth come out. I waved and exchanged greetings to some of them. They were all new faces - none I recognized from the previous night. I commenced my walk down the side of the house to the back yard. “This is happening,” I realized, heart racing. “This is real.”
I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Oh no! I’ve been caught! The jig is up!” My inner shithead quickly took over. I slowly turned around, convinced I was about to be asked to why I was there.
I turned to meet a youthful but concerned face. “Hold on a sec, brother.”
“Nooooo!” I cried internally. “This can’t be a sad ending. It wasn’t meant to happen this way. I was supposed to be here. This was meant to happen.”
“Your collar is sticking up. Let me fix it,” he said as he reached behind my neck and adjusted my shirt.
I welled up with tears. I tried to hide it, but I couldn’t. I hugged the stranger. “Thanks man!” He patted me on the back and nudged me towards the backyard party. “Have fun!” He said.
I got out back. I was there. I made it. I savoured my victory for a moment before I was struck again with uncertainty. “Now what?” There were so many people. More than the previous night. I looked around for a safe spot—either a place I could reclude myself to or a familiar face (em dash again is mine!).
It didn’t take long. Maybe 2 seconds before the guy who had initially invited me to the previous night’s party saw me, broke away from his conversation and came to greet me with another hug. “You came back!” He said. “You keep challenging my doubts. Didn’t think you were going to come last night and didn’t think you were coming tonight, but you proved me wrong both times.”
We shared some laughs and a brief exchange and from there, everything was going to be ok. I think my inner shithead voice of doubt and self-judgment just gave up at that point. It wasn’t going to win. When it had my exclusive attention, it had a chance, like an abusive friend or partner, but like most if not all voices who thrive on power over someone, it just cowardly disappeared when it was challenged. And I had backup that night. The friends I had made on the first night all came over to greet me when they saw me. I belonged.
And then something I never expected happened. I met someone I had all but forgotten about. It was the old me. Although he was a bit older now, there was no mistaking it was him. The old friend that felt comfortable around people; the guy who was just happy to be a part of something wonderful; the person who had life in him and wanted to enjoy every new experience. He wasn’t jaded, even after all these years. He was just appreciative of being able to be a part of this world and saw there was an a fountain of adventure and new friendships to be discovered. God, how I missed that guy. I was overwhelmed.
There were so many new memories formed last night, but I’m going to save some of those just for me. For now. They will come out in form of anecdotes and stories that I share with loved ones and new friends as the years go on. But for now, I’m going to keep them as little special treasures, waiting for the right time to share.
It was a good night. I exchanged numbers with a few people and the future holds adventure once again. I even have the old me at my side again. I have no doubts that my abusive voice is going to keep trying to hold me back, particularly during alone times. But he’s on very shaky ground now. Happiness isn’t a state of being, but a reward. And I have enough of those rewards pocketed after this week that I can pull out when I need them the most.
Thanks for reading another mile-long wall of text. And thank you for encouraging me to post this. It gave me a chance to reflect on the real value of this week.
Much love to you all!
