12 Jun
Holly, 56. Divorced two years ago and I've got a date on Friday. An actual date. With an actual man I met at a pub quiz who seemed genuinely interested in what I was saying and not just waiting for his turn to talk. And I am absolutely terrified. Not of him, particularly. More of... me. This body that I don't fully recognise anymore. The dryness that I've only half-addressed. The way my confidence just falls off a cliff at about 8pm when I'm tired. I keep thinking, what if I get there and I just feel invisible? What if I've forgotten how to do this? I've been making notes before my next GP appointment because there are things I need to actually say out loud to her rather than gloss over. The intimacy stuff. The confidence stuff. I always end up talking about the flushes and going quiet about everything else. Not this time. In the meantime I'm trying to eat something proper before I go out on Friday rather than arriving hungry and anxious and running on half a glass of wine. Last time I had a social thing I skipped dinner and felt dreadful by nine. Lesson learned. Anyway. Just wanted to say it somewhere. Nervous but going. 🤞