"To err is human, to forgive, divine" -- Alexander Pope.

Happy Monday, everyone! I hope you had a fantabulous weekend. I had a great weekend, but it wasn't without a slip up which I'm going to share with you here:

On Saturday night, I attended a beautiful fundraising event for a worthy cause. I dressed up and I was accompanied by a very dapper date. I was even asked by the event organizer to bring a flyer and business cards to display on the Women Entrepreneurs Table. I was looking forward to meeting new people, socializing, eating some delicious food and having a glass or two of wine.

The theme was Diwali, the Hindu festival of lights. We were treated to some beautiful performances, including two fashion shows by Indian designers and two traditional dance performances. It was a stunning display.

Things took a turn when I exceeded my (self-imposed) limit of three glasses of wine. "I don't feel anything," I rationalized. "I want to loosen up a bit. I want to feel that surge of confidence that comes with a little buzz." So I indulged the demon on my shoulder despite knowing better. After all, I didn't get to the point where I recognize that three glasses of wine is my limit without first overindulging many, many times prior! That number was hypothesized, tested and re-tested countless times to the point that I feel comfortable stating it as fact rather than theory :-)

So the event was winding down, but I was just winding up. I'm feeling good and energized and ready. For what, I don't know, but not ready to go home that's for sure. So I suggest to my date that we hit up a bar nearby for a nightcap. We do, I down glass #5, and am ready for another. Lucky for me, my date knows me well and knows when I've had enough. He was also smart enough to order and immediately close out the bar tab!

On the way to the train station to go home, I'm teetering a bit on my heels but still riding the false wave of confidence that comes when alcohol hits the bloodstream. By the time I'm home and kicking off my shoes, those 5 glasses hit me like a ton of bricks. And so commences the guilt. I'm alone, I'm no longer pleasantly buzzed but rather uncomfortably drunk, and there is a jar of TJ's salted almond butter and spoon in either hand...cue emotional drunk eating--the worst combination. When I finally managed to wrench myself away from the almond butter and get ready for bed, the mild nausea, vertigo and shame I felt brought me to tears. I felt like I had let myself down: I was a failure.

Why share such an emotionally-raw experience with you, dear readers? Well, because experiences such as these are always an opportunity for growth and to gain a deeper understanding of oneself. I also believe that by sharing these intimate struggles with you, they become less scary and less taboo. Pulling myself out of bed the following morning was miserable, as neither the physical manifestations of the previous night nor the emotional ones had completely worn off. But I started my day in spite of it all. I made a decision to learn something from this experience and take the time to examine the uncomfortable feelings that slip ups like these bring to the surface.

I asked myself some tough questions and was confronted with some difficult truths: I struggle with confidence when surrounded by people who I perceive to be more successful, more learned, more sophisticated than I. The event I attended placed me in the type of situation that triggers feelings of unworthiness and being less than. These feelings present a potent combination that leave me searching for a way to manufacture confidence, hence the tendency to indulge in a few too many glasses of wine. Does my awareness of this fact eliminate any regret or remorse I feel related to this incident? No, but the acknowledgement does absolve me of any lingering feelings of guilt associated with this occurrence because I recognize that I didn't do anything wrong that I should feel guilty about. I forgive myself and I practice self-compassion, but I recognize my role in the incident and what I need to work on to prevent a recurrence.

It is an ever-evolving process, but I am learning to take care of myself, nurture myself, and show myself a little more compassion than I've become accustomed to: