I’m the reason the party phantom exists

I am ashamed to admit this. But I crack it when people want to leave somewhere when I am having a good time, forcing them to leave in secret and ‘phantom’. It is ludicrous.
As an adult I know this. However, as my psychologist would say — for the “inner child” it seems totally reasonable.
Let me take you back to where it all began for me; childhood sleepovers. The kind that you plan for weeks, beg your parents to make happen and then schedule every single second of the events you are going to do. For me, drop off was at lunch time and the scheduling began. 12-2 was to beg Mum to take us to Target, 2 — 5 was to make up a dance to a song on Music Box by Mariah Carey, 6pm was Maccas for dinner followed by a movie. Ideally, Richie Rich or Steel Magnolias. (Yes — I was allowed to watch that. I had a cool Mum). This all sounds like a young girl’s dream right?
Well, no.
It was never enough! I wanted sleepovers to turn into sleep weekends!
The need for the party to never end only progressed as I arrived at my teens. Luckily for me, I found like-minded people craving attention, activity and music. Enter dancing friends! I joined musical theatre and ended up sleeping over at different people’s houses for five years straight. I was a musical theatre hussy. After rehearsals we would talk about more rehearsals, the after party, our costumes — the list goes on. I found my people.
Things started to turn up a notch, when I was introduced to the passionfruit UDL. I’ve always been a party girl. I loved every second of dancing with my friends, going to nightclubs, laughing about it all the next day. My happiest memories are of the adventures in my early twenties when the sun was well and truly set.
But (*cue Psycho music*) when the moment approached where my friends who weren’t so party eager, wanted to leave the party — hell broke loose. You know who this person is in your group. You know deep down, if you are her/him. I’m sorry to break it to you friends, but you and I are the reason the ‘phantom’ exists.
The wrath, as one of my friend calls it, begins well before the actual goodbye happens. I am told by said friend, the pep-up they must give themselves to prepare for what was to come from my overwhelming eagerness to have no one leave is a strategic one!
I am not sure what I think the next hour is going to involve, that requires such urgency for everyone to stay. Were we moving into the nightclub? Was the bar all of a sudden going to offer free drinks? Was Rihanna going to arrive with her posse?
No, it appears none of this ever happened.
A usual goodbye greeting after a great night out consists of “See ya guuuuurl! Call you tomorrow”. But for my friends it was more of a CSI investigation, starring chief investigator, Detective Me.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” “Are you sure you have to leave?” “Why don’t you come back later?” “We could go somewhere else!”.
Things settled slightly as I got older but after receiving a recent gentle word from my friend who felt that she needed to give me a warning that someone was about to leave, I knew it was time to have a hard look at myself. I had no business now or ever, making people feeling guilty, to ah, sleep, leave, celebrate their nanna’s birthday, paint their toe nails.
I started the self reflection — “Do you have a fear of being alone Stacey?” “Are you an alcoholic?” “Do you not like your life?” None of these dramatic resolutions fit nor led me to the truth.
Some things are simple. I love to chase the happy times. Just sometimes with a serious lack of grace.
And since Oprah says “grace is beauty,” I better get cracking on a plan to calm my farm.
A shout out to my fellow ball breaker cats, who love to ‘encourage’ everyone to never, ever leave a good night out. While, we may be getting absolutely crucified for being this character, there is a good chance the party wouldn’t begin without us. So swings and roundabouts.