They looked at me like I was stupid. I'm not stupid.

On Thursday night, I was volunteering at my daughters' school. I walked in confidently, like I owned the place, and walked right up to the principal and asked if she knew where the PTA president, my neighbor of 8 years, was.

She stated at me blankly, and my neighbor who was standing right next to her said, "I'm right here."

It was such a small moment. I'm probably the only one who remembers it by now. I laughed, hugged her, and made fun of myself.

And I haven't stopped thinking about what so idiot I was since.

This is my worst fear. That people will see me as stupid or crazy. Because deep down I'm afraid it's true.

I make fun of myself when I forget to put coffee in my coffee maker because if I laugh at myself first, then I am in control. I apologize exaggeratedly for every little mistake. But mostly, I stay small.

If I hadn't talked to the principal like I thought I deserved to be there, then I wouldn't have embarrassed myself. If I never post on Facebook about anything that matters to me, then I never have to worry about being judged.

I'm tired of failing. I'm tired of being an idiot and a clown. But I'm also tired of playing small.

I wish I didn't care what people thought. I wish I wasn't so sensitive. I wish I said eff it instead of crying in my bathroom. 

I'm not stupid. I'm really now.