Taking Criticism

I have always been a fiercely self-conscious person.

When I was a teenager I wore baggy clothes, thinking that if I camouflaged my body I wouldn’t get looked at. As a young mom, I often worried what “older” mommacitas thought of me. I kept a spotless house and agonized over every detail of raising my babies. Now, I’m confident in my skin as a woman and mother. My anxiety is ebbing. I made three PEOPLE with this body. I wear whatever (the hell) I like. My house is still tidy–most of the time–but I’ve learned to let the little things slide. Our family is happier because of it. And, because of my new found confidence, I’ve shifted ranks from “Helicopter Parent” to “Free Range Parent.” (Although, as my precious hellions will attest, even I still have some boundaries.)

But, my anxiety is bleeding into a new aspect of my life, as I take on the role of budding author. While *gasp* presenting my work…