An introvert went to the Women's Prize Live on her own.
and this is what happened.
I know I’m an introvert, so I do wonder why I find myself in situations I’m uncomfortable with, yet have actively put myself in.
An example. A few weeks back, I discovered that there was a whole live event dedicated to the Women’s Prize (for both fiction and non-fiction). It was to take place in central London on a Wednesday. I don’t teach on Wednesdays and often see it as a sign that I’m meant to go when events like this occur on days I am available. There were lots of talks taking place, as well as some workshops that peaked my attention. Without thinking about it very much at all, I booked it. One ticket. I was going alone.
A few days before the event, I found myself mentally picking out the brightly coloured dress I was going to wear, planning the colour I would paint my nails and thinking about the route I would take to get there. I was feeling excited. This was good.
I’d booked myself a solo brunch at a nearby restaurant before the event started so that I could be well-fed before the intense day of talks and workshops began at noon.
The planning and preparation was all going so well until the night before when thoughts started to wash around in my head:
“What am I thinking going to this alone?”
“Who do I think I am? I’m not a literary person!”
“I’m wasting a day when I could be working to earn money.”
“This dress is ridiculous and will only attract attention. I don’t have the confidence to wear it.”
And on and on they went, my inner critic suddenly alive and well and wholly unwelcome.