Oh, by the way...

The Hubs and I have had several opportunities to meet up with Twitter friends, but for one reason or another they've all fallen through. Babysitters, proximity, vacations and good ole Aunt Flow have ruined plans with at least 3 friends. Not always on our end, just bad luck sometimes. Some may think we've backed out on purpose but in reality fate has kept us Tweet-up virgins. So far...

We have an opportunity to meet The Tweep who is a single man who I met on Twitter. He has since closed his account but we have continued emailing each other and next month he'll be within an hour of our home. He wants to meet up. I want to meet up. The Hubs wants us all to meet up.

So what's the problem? Well, good old fashioned fear of rejection, essentially.

I've said before that I am not Supermodel-Esq and while I've always been honest about my pictures and postings I'd be a liar if I didn't admit to only posting/sending the pictures of the best angles, lighting, etc. (I mean who would intentionally send a bad picture of themselves?) But in person it is what it is. And well, this guy is totally out of my league.  So I'm already doubting why he'd want to fuck me to begin with. And most especially because I'm a girl - we're naturally hard on ourselves I feel certain he's expecting a much better version of me.

I made a comment to The Hubs who suggested I email The Tweep with some pics and explain that I was feeling inadequate and yada yada yada. On paper I think he is right and I should just get it out there before he is standing in front of me. But, in my mind I keep trying to word that email without making it sound like I'm the swamp creature from the black lagoon. Think about it - how do you say, "Oh, by the way... I really want to make sure you're not going to think I'm gross" without making it seem like you are in fact gross and he should run for the hills?

So I stew. Because I'm a grade-A overthinker I'm sure I'll overthink this one too. I wish I could turn off this part of my brain but I can't. It's just who I am.

So we'll see. Maybe a tweet-up virgin no more...

The Wife