Golf with strangers is No. Big. Deal.
(It's been a while since we've had one of these, right? The more "normal" being smaller becomes, the less I notice the differences between then and now, I guess.)
Yesterday, my husband got wooed by his insurance company. If you work in some kind of job that involves sales reps selling things to you -- or trying to -- you know how this goes.
You, sales rep, 18 holes, lunch or dinner. In our case, it also involved another dude to complete our foursome.
There was a time in my life when this would have been my idea of hell. Nine hours with strangers that I had to be nice to for Jim's sake. Two meals, eating in front of people I didn't know. Eighteen holes where the three other people are watching you specifically every single time you take a swing ... in other words, no place to hide.
Yesterday, however, I noticed that it was not hell. In fact, it was fun. A lot of fun.
I wasn't worried about someone making judgments about what I ate for lunch. I put my stride on and confidently walked to my tees, knowing the three men behind me could see my ass heading there. I didn't panic when dinner was suggested with the sales rep's wife. (The only thing worse for me than dealing with a man I didn't know was dealing with a woman I didn't know.)
It was nice to turn my face toward the sun on the fairway, take a deep breath and allow myself a small pat on the back for the hard work I have put in. Life is so much easier this way. And it feels so good to not be afraid and uncomfortable all the time.
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