I know it is ridiculous.  I know it is.  But as I was getting a blowout in this fantastic Dominican salon today, I was retracing the steps, and one of my theories is that MTM Googled me and got scared off.

I told him my last name on our very fun and thrilling first date, and it was soon thereafter that he fizzled and poofed.  When you Google me, all kinds of intense stuff comes up.  

For much of the past eight years, I have been an advocate for rights and self-determination for people diagnosed with mental illnesses.  At the age of 25, I made a conscious decision to go public about this stuff, and it was scary as hell. I made a decision to speak out, and I don’t regret it.  I believe in the cause.  I believe in breaking down the stigma and telling the truth, in large part so that others will feel less alone, and perhaps more comfortable telling theirs.  

Online, there are all kinds of articles I’ve written and bios from conferences and speaking engagements. The bios talk about how my parents were both people with diagnoses of severe mental illnesses, whose lives were in essence cut short by the terrible “care” they received, and how I myself went through a very traumatic time as an adolescent in the mental health system.  I have also written extensively about how no matter how traumatized we have been, no matter how much we have suffered, we can and do heal and find a way to live meaningful lives in the world.  That is the message I’ve brought to my writing and work for the last eight years.    

But anyone who didn’t know me from Eve and Googled me would probably be horrified and think, “who is this crazy lady with two crazy parents?”

I know, my mind is working overtime.  I need to just divest the energy and focus elsewhere. 

A wise friend suggested that I need a project or a class or something that is just about me.  Now that Sami is with his dad pretty consistently on Saturdays I need to look into that.  Some kind of nurturing and fun thing that is about building up my self esteem and bringing me joy.  Maybe a dance class or a writing workshop or something enriching like that.

Yet - this Google thing haunts me.  I can’t shake the fear that any potential date will get scared off when the inevitable Googling happens.  Am I doomed?

In the end, MTM poofed and I have no idea why.  And anyway, do I want to be with someone who is that easily scared off?  Instead of constructing elaborate theories that may or may not be true, I just need to move on.  

And moving on I am.  I live in DC and it is Inauguration weekend, people!  The atmosphere is buzzing with excitement, and I just scored a free ticket to one of those fancy-schmancy balls tomorrow evening. Bibbity-bobbity-boo!  Cinderella’s going to the ball.

I’m going to put on a fabulous LBD, walk in there with the killer blow-out I acquired today, drink one (or several) glasses of champagne and feel fantastic about being alive.  I am so lucky to be a part of this amazing historic weekend in our nation’s capital.  

Yes we did!