Just A Small Town Girl

They’re clever, these conference organizers.

They don’t just fill three days with interesting sessions and networking opportunities and swag-filled expos and then arrange long, late nights with raucous, hugging, crazy parties for the sake of, you know, our own health.

I mean yes, you learn. And yes, you hug. And yes, you get the swag and schlep it all home to distribute to whomever might need it.

But there’s a method to the kind of oversocialization/overlearning/too much happy/not enough sleep madness. Because, after a day, or two days, or however many days without enough sleep and with too many people you love too much in the same room, you’re left with let’s just say limited energy for things. Which can be a drag, it’s true, especially if you want to do lots and lots more things. So in order to do lots of other things, then you need to start picking and choosing where to put your energy - and so does your psyche. And if you’re lucky and your psyche chooses well, then it cuts out the crap, the chaff, the things that are a waste of energy in the first place.

The crap it will hopefully choose to cut includes all the artificial shells you put around yourself. All the I Shoulds and I Must Remember To Nots and the I Can’t Let Them See Mys. And without these facades, we become real. Authentic, even though I hate the schmarmy group-therapy vibe of that word. We are how we are around our family, perhaps - the good family, the family we look forward to being around, without the lifetime of politics and roles - but the point is we drop our facade, our walls, whatever armour we wear to hide what we believe are our flaws or weaknesses or failures.

And then, you end up in a stretch limo with 8 people and about 25 suitcases filled with swag, singing Journey at the top of your lungs and debating who should be hanging out the top window, and you realize all your defenses are gone. Long gone. You’ve talked and listened and hugged and drank and sleep deprived them out. You don’t have the energy for them anymore.

And maybe that’s entirely the point. I’ve gone on a retreat weekend before, ones that keep you up late and get you up early and are unrelenting in the Personal Work And Communication. And at that previous retreat, when I felt my walls start to crumble, I couldn’t deal with it. Wasn’t ready. I submerged in to a fight-or-flight response; whenever someone would try to reach me I would reinforce my armour with an angry snarl or would just completely shut down, hiding in a corner, barely able to breathe. I couldn’t live without those defenses, then. I couldn’t get out of that retreat soon enough. I bolted, thankful that I could properly put the walls back up, where they belonged, how dare anyone try to breach them even though I paid them to do exactly that. The nerve.

This time, I went in to the conference knowing I wanted them to fall. I wanted most to find friends, to hug and laugh and cry and share things with. I knew I would get fight or flighty, and I deliberately ignored it when I did (because - trust me, I did) because I wanted to break through it and leave it behind.

BlogHer, really, is exactly what you make of it. You can’t go in to it without a plan or an aim or a goal; if you do that, you will probably walk away disappointed. It’s too big to just ride with the tide, because you’ll get buffeted from place to place and never really set down any anchors or make any progress. You have to make choices, have intent, miss things to deliberately seek out others. It can be hard, when it seems really big and you don’t know anybody. But eventually, you will know somebody - there’s no way you can’t. And when you do, when that person sits down and asks, what’s your story? Tell them. Tell them as much as you can. Tell them everything you feel like telling them. Because telling each other things, well, that’s why we go.

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I feel particularly lucky, this time, because I almost didn’t go to BlogHer 11. Due to a perfect storm of holidays and childcare issues and budget woes, I realized about three weeks before the conference that I couldn’t attend. And even though I had not been completely committed to going, I was devastated when the decision was ultimately made for me. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Ford Canada offered to sponsor my entire attendance along with a team of other fantastic women. I scrambled and jumped through hoops and found childcare and the rest is history. I’ve attended Ford events before, but I was truly blown away by this offer and by the opportunity to attend. And, given what I got out of BlogHer this year - which has impacted me more by far than any other year I’ve attended, and that’s saying a lot - I cannot be thankful enough for the opportunity to work with them for BlogHer 11. Thank you.

Tagged as: #fordblogherca, Blogher, Blogher11, Ford, friends, growth, happiness, stuff