I Don’t Want to Go Out. I Just Want to Be Invited.

There’s a very specific kind of disappointment that comes with finding out everybody went somewhere and nobody asked you.

Now, before you say anything—no, I probably wasn’t going.

That is not the point.

I wanted the text. I wanted the “Girl, what you doing tonight?” I wanted to stare at the message for ten minutes, check the weather, mentally go through my closet, think about parking, calculate how long it would take me to get ready, and ultimately decide that my bed sounded better.

But I wanted the OPTION.

Somewhere along the way, going out became a whole damn production.

There was a time when you could tell me about something at 8:30 and I’d be dressed by 9:15. Now? If I didn’t know about it at least three business days ago, you’ve already lost me.

And even with advance notice, there are questions.

Where is it?

Who’s going?

What’s the parking situation?

Are we sitting down?

Is it loud?

How long are we staying?

And perhaps most importantly: what time can I reasonably be back in my bed?

This is grown girlhood.

Because I still want to be included. I still want to know what’s going on. I still want pictures with my girls, cute outfits, dinner reservations, birthdays, random nights that somehow turn into stories we’ll tell for the next ten years.

I just also really, really like being home.

And apparently those two things can exist at the same time.

I can love my friends and not want to leave my house.

I can want a social life and still cancel plans because suddenly putting on pants feels disrespectful.

I can spend an hour getting cute, look in the mirror and think oh yeah, she ate—and then immediately start wondering how soon I can come home and take everything off.

That’s not antisocial.

That’s range. 😂

But please don’t take my love of being home as permission to stop inviting me.

Because the minute I open Instagram and see everybody together?

Oh.

So nobody thought to ask me?

Now I’m on the couch offended in the exact same pajamas I would’ve been wearing had you invited me.

And yes, I understand how ridiculous that sounds.

I don’t care.

Invite me.

Let me say no.

Let me send the “I’m tired girl 😭 next time though!” text.

Let me heart everybody’s pictures from the comfort of my bed knowing that I was, in fact, considered.

Because sometimes it’s not really about going.

It’s about knowing somebody wanted you there.

And maybe that’s the grown-girl version of having a social life: fewer random nights out, more intentional plans, and friends who know that “she probably ain’t coming” is never a valid reason not to invite you.

So yes.

I don’t want to go out.

But girl… ask me anyway.

Very Girlish Behavior. ♡