I love dressing up!  I also love meeting new people and socializing.  Halloween house parties are the perfect place to do this, and I am lucky to say for the past two years I have gone to the same house party in which I only know the people I arrive with.  This may be intimidating to some, however for me it has become quite exciting and interesting.  I show up, with bare ass (part of my costume of course!) to dance, drink, and mingle with a group of people I have no clue what they look like without makeup.  This year, there was an added element in that E was not able to attend due to work.  So, here I am, a completely unknown lady in a devil suit with an open butt flap, partying with strangers.

5 years ago, had I been in the situation I would not have left the wall.  I would have held my drink firmly in my hand, waiting for people to approach me, well, until the level of booze rid me of my inhibitions.  I would have been nervous and intimidated that all these people knew each other around me, and were judging this person who showed up to invade their little clique.  And please do not get me wrong, I do know that these people do still exist, in fact I had one lady at the party imply just that to me.  And the thing is, it really did not matter to me.  I was not crushed, or insecure when I was told that me showing up alone with a bare ass two years in a row may be a sign that I have some sort of psychological issue that needs to be resolved or at least dealt with.  It actually barely phased me, aside from me having a good laugh and continuing to have a fantastic time at the party.  The thing I feared so much for so long, was really no big deal when it finally happened.

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I should clarify that I was never the wallflower for long.  Once I got my stride or booze, was comfortable in my surroundings then I was ready to socialize.  And this party was no different.  It takes a moment or two to acquaint yourself with a new place, get a vibe and figure out what part of the room to begin with.  Also to make the big decision of whether undoing the buttons on your buttflap is actually party appropriate and if in the end it really matters.  Obviously the buttons were undone right after I poured my first drink.  And I must say, although I truly missed having E at the party along side me, I was perfectly comfortable and confident to walk around complete strangers, making conversation and dancing with my butt hanging out.  Hmm, maybe I am really focused on my tushie and should look into the reason why?  I jest of course.

What I found surprising was that I, being the stranger, had confidence, whereas this group of people who presumably knew each other, displayed moments of insecurity and outright jealousy over a few of my actions or just my presence there.  Last year with E by my side, I was slapped on the ass, congratulated for showing it off, and told if you’ve got it flaunt it.  All by confident and happy women.

This year, there was a bit of that, however it was over shadowed by distrust obviously fuelled by me being alone.  I counted 6 separate times that people came up to me, to ensure that I knew and was not embarrassed that my ass was hanging out.  Various reactions occurred when I replied that of course I knew and that was what a butt flap was for.  I even went so far as to tell one lady that I was taking pictures for my boyfriend, yeah it did nothing to improve her mood.  Most surprising though, was the women who interrupted when I was talking to their significant others and then would take them away.  I felt like the siren at the party.  Being typecast as that chick every woman must keep their eye on and protect their men because of my devilish ways.  Honestly, I have not felt that feeling in such a long time, I had forgotten the steps I usually try and take to prevent any distrust and put people at ease.  Which oddly turned out to be a good thing.  It is not my job to protect the feelings of every person in the room.  And that it is ok to polarize people at a party by being myself.  I have grown from the desire to win over a room, to just being myself, even if I was being a little bit of a siren, or just being a devil.

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