coming out of the menstrual closet

For those of you who don't know (and I can't imagine it's more than 10 people after my constant hype campaign), my VIEW appearance is in 3 days. And god help me, I have no idea what I'm feeling. I can't believe I'm pulling this analogy out of my hat, but I imagine this is how David felt before he fought Goliath, up against something huger than he ever faced, not knowing how he'd deal in the moment, anticipating an experience fraught with nothing but unknowns. But, in a way, he had it easier. He knew he could either be ripped to shreds or conquer the giant. It was all about the battle. The battle, metaphorically speaking, isn't want I'm nervous about. I don't have to worry about getting Elisabeth in a headlock or piercing Whoopi's armor with an arrow. I know I'll be on the edge of panic before it starts. But I've been talking, living, breathing FLOW for so long, the conversation usually flows (couldn't help that). It's more about what happens after.

I should know better. I've practiced yoga long enough, lived long enough to know expectations get you into trouble. It's about being in the moment and letting go of anticipation. The future isn't real, it's just stories, good or bad, you spin in your head. At this point I've constructed my life to be inside my comfort zones as much as possible—so whether something is good or bad, thrilling or miserable, it's not fluctuating all that wildly either way.

This is different. This is being thrust into a major spotlight after choosing to be behind the scenes most of my life. Having said that, perhaps that's part of my story that I'd like to believe but isn't necessarily 100% true. Years ago, during my anorexic stint, I was one of the people who got lost in a crowd, who faded into the wall, who wore all black all the time, desperate for no one to notice me, unless it was to comment on my thinness. Now, I wear outrageous stuff on a regular basis. Vibrant color. Psychedelic patterns. I love uncovering things that are unique, different, bordering on ridiculous. Pieces that are funky, silly, joyful. While I like to think I'm hidden in the shadow, that's far from reality.

At least out on the street.

Writing-wise, I'm still anonymous. I've done a bunch of books, but none have gotten significant press. I wrote about topics that were interesting but couldn't touch the conversation/controversy of FLOW. And even up until now, I'm still significantly hidden. Yes, I blog, tweet, engage, but very often it's in the corner of my living room, still wearing yoga pants and a tank top, not in the fashion armor I put on to go out into the world.

Tuesday, that changes. My voice, my face, my body, my ideas, my clothes, my conversation merge, in real time, for millions to see.

And then what?

A soulful twitter friend wrote that anxiety isn't just fear of failure, it's fear of greatness.

I think that's it. I want the greatness. Or at least I want more. I want a royalty check. I want foreign rights to be sold. I want FLOW to be on the NY Times bestseller list, even if it's only for a week. I want to write WRINKLE. I want to be a producer on a FLOW film project. I want a regular gig, whether it's radio, writing a column. I want to spend time lost in creativity. I want to be engaged, engaging and let go of the mundane I'm so often trapped by.

I want opportunities to show up in my inbox instead of constantly having to struggle to get up hill with every project.

I want to be taken seriously.

I want to take myself seriously.

I want to let go of the angst, the family drama, the weight issues, the insecurities of my past (and present) and be me. But a me who's confident, creative, self-assured, successful. Maybe I'm dreaming of a movie version of me.

Part of me knows that's all possible. And part of me knows, on the other side of this experience, could be that nothing changes.

I'm trying to be ok with both.

But I'm having a remarkably hard time balancing.