Not a Shrinking Violet

I have become accustomed to people staring at me, especially during the summer when my prosthesis is exposed. Normally it doesn't bother me, and many times I don't even notice the attention. Every once in awhile the staring bothers me. Yesterday was one of those days. If it hadn't been in the 90's, I probably would have put on jeans just to blend in with everybody else.

I'm not sure why I was self-conscious yesterday, but I do know that the results were profound. Walking around the grocery store and trampoline park, I felt like an oddity in a circus sideshow. I caught every second glance, hushed whisper and look of shock as I went about the course of my day. I'm sure that I wasn't receiving more attention than usual, so the fact that it bothered me was weird. I'd blame it on hormones, but the hysterectomy two years ago squelched that excuse.

Hopefully yesterday's acute awareness was a fluke, and today I will resume my "you're staring at me because I'm awesome" attitude. I hate days where I have to feign confidence! I'm glad that those situations are rare, because I don't think I make a good shrinking violet.