Living with Social Anxiety (A personal journey)
/Living with Social Anxiety: A Personal Journey
I remember it so clearly—Kindergarten "Show and Tell." That morning, as we rushed to leave the house, I repeatedly asked my mom what I could take to school to share with my class. When I finally got her attention, I pleaded for the sentimental stuffed animal that played music, but my mother without any hesitation refused. My parents had no idea what “Show and Tell” was at the time, they were immigrants themselves, and had more important things to do than pick out stuffed animals for an assignment they didn’t understand. Instead, my mom quickly placed in my hand a tiny tea light candle, a dollar tree find that was likely laying around, close enough to grab and run out the door with. “Take this”, she confidently said. This tiny, tea light candle had no scent, held no meaning to me or my family, and there was no way I wasn’t going to be the laughingstock of my class that day.
When I got to school and it was time for "Show and Tell," I desperately wanted to hide my face — my heart raced, and the palms of my hands were incredibly sweaty, there was panic, an internal cry for help coupled with a physiological response. My teacher continued to randomly call out names as I stared down at my desk the entire time. The “Show and Tell” items of my classmates were all appropriate, which of course any time you compare yourself it makes everything worse, especially when it comes to anxiety. What in the world was I supposed to say about this tiny candle? It felt like an eternity as I waited anxiously for my name to be called, but luckily I never heard it, and I never had to experience "Show and Tell" again. A huge weight was lifted off my chest — I no longer felt my heart race, my sweaty palms were no longer an issue, and my racing thoughts of being ridiculed finally stopped. Little did I know that the anxiety and physical symptoms that I experienced that day would follow me for years to come. It’s like that aggressive sales person that won’t stop asking you if you’re finding everything ok. Only with anxiety, it never seems to stop.
As I previously shared, I have immigrant parents, both of which were born in Egypt and later gained U.S. citizenship. They traveled separately to the states for different reasons — my dad for a better life and my mom to temporarily visit her younger sister who lived in New Jersey. My parents met through friends and family before moving to Pennsylvania where they married and had me and my two siblings. Like many immigrant families, my parents worked hard to provide for us financially. I have memories of my mother sewing clothes for herself, and how we would frequent our local JoAnn Fabrics on Saturday mornings as a family. My brother, sister and I would run around the store, complain that we were bored, as my mom continued to respond in assurance that she was almost done. When it came to purchasing clothes, my parents seemed to buy everything two sizes too big so we wouldn’t outgrow them too soon. Although this helped cut down on cost, it did not help my confidence. Any family outing or dinner was brought to you by coupons, as were the groceries. All of which I have come to respect over time and even more so now as a working mother of two with my own family and financial responsibilities.
Middle School photo
As the first born of immigrant parents, I was naturally the guinea pig paving the way for my younger siblings. In grade school, is where I began to feel isolated from my peers. For starters, I was ethnically different at a school that lacked diversity, I wore glasses, dressed very differently than my classmates, and had “authentic” packed school lunches which repelled kids from wanting to sit next to me. And don’t get me started on my hair journey or my struggle with acne —”fun times!”. To top all else, I was quiet. I didn’t think I was different until I was treated differently. I often was asked the question of whether I was "white" or "black" as if there were no other options. I didn’t fit any box, and for a young person, inclusion is everything.
I continued to spend most of my younger years being made fun of and isolated for looking different. I hated getting in school lines-ups because I would often hear the whispers and giggles that accompanied jokes about me. And so for awhile, up until college, I hated getting in lines anywhere. My attempts to join in with the other girls were usually rejected. Eventually I stopped trying to fit in and accepted I was different. Sadly, I developed a fear of speaking up, raising my hand, and ultimately putting myself out there. I feared rejection. My thoughts about myself back then fell along the lines of, “I’m not enough”, “I don’t fit in”, and “No one wants to be my friend”. These thoughts later became my belief system; what you think about yourself has a huge impact on who you become.
From middle school to high school, I remained quiet, and naturally reserved. I continued to feel like an ugly duckling that no one wanted to be around. As I slowly took control over my appearance, I started to become more accepted by my peers. I appeared more Americanized and my parents were beginning to afford more as they never stopped working hard to build a better life for us. We eventually started to understand and include American customs collectively as a family. I eventually got contacts, I gained control over my hair, I got a job to buy the clothes I wanted, I began buying my lunch, etc. But nothing really changed internally. I still lacked confidence in myself. When I did make “friends”, my attempts at keeping those friendships were run by fear of losing them, and so I became a people pleaser, and would over explain myself at nauseam to remain included. I hated conflict and needed reassurance everything was okay anytime I felt someone was distant. I never wanted anyone to be mad at me because it would only confirm the already established narrative that I wasn’t enough, and that I was somehow defective.
In college, it’s no surprise that my social anxiety spilled over into an intense fear of public speaking. I avoided any and all classes that required me to speak in front of others, it didn’t matter the size. I dreaded the thought of all eyes on me. When it came time to look for jobs, I never applied to any opportunity that listed public speaking skills as “preferred” or “required”. My heart would race at the mere thought. The thoughts of having to speak in front of others sounded like, “What if I don’t sound smart?”, “What if I jumble my words?” “What if they laugh at me?”, etc…
Since then I have worked a lot on my social anxiety, but I still have a lot to improve upon. For example, now that I’m a mother myself, I still get a pit in my stomach every time I see school supplies or wake up on the first day of school — the weather feels cooler, there’s usually a morning breeze and the trees even smell different — no exaggeration. It almost feels like it’s MY first day of school all over. I have good days, but I still have really bad days where a rush of insecure thoughts flood my mind. I still fear rejection, and despite considering myself extremely caring, I don’t necessarily give off warm and friendly vibes to new faces, especially when in groups. A byproduct of childhood rejection from an already set group of friends. I know now through a lot of self reflection that being standoffish is a defense mechanism, and a way I self-sabatoge myself. I’ve convinced myself this is the safest approach when it comes to people, and creates the least amount of risk. My subconscious mantra was, “I can’t be rejected if I don’t get close”.
Many of us that struggle with social anxiety get told that we appear standoffish at first, but the truth is we just need some time to assess the “risk” of a person naturally. In short, we want to know if we can be our authentic selves with little to no risk of rejection. In full transparency, this approach has us believe that we can control the probability of lessened hurt from others in the future, it saves us time, energy, and of course, the experience of rejection — the core problem. Disclaimer: this is not always the case for everyone, and will vary from person to person.
I didn't want to end without providing some suggestions/tips on overcoming social anxiety that continues to help me.There is so much I can share on this topic, but for now, here are my top 10:
Acknowledge social anxiety as a fear of rejection from others and know that its something thousands of people experience.
People pleasing is a way to manipulate people into liking you. With that said, boundaries are important. People pleasing and boundaries can not co-exist.
Do it afraid. Especially if it’s something you really want to do, or have an interest in doing. The more exposure, the more practice, the less afraid you’ll be.
Work on your confidence, create an action plan of things YOU want to accomplish, learn and take action towards your interests and create a healthy routine in order to be the best version of you.
It’s okay to show up as yourself. You do not need to meet people’s energy if that is not where you are. Authenticity is important even if its not always accepted.
Anxiety is a journey, don’t rush to get to the end. Life is ever changing and we are exposed to new challenges that may trigger your anxiety. Get comfortable with being uncomfortable.
Practice self compassion. Critical self-talk is the opposite of self compassion.
Be mindful of what you read, listen to, and surround yourself with. Are you the person you want to be right at this moment? Why or Why Not?
You can be the most attractive, smartest, kindest person in the world, and someone is still going to dislike you.
Rejection is a part of life. If it's meant to be a part of your life, it will be, but the key is to always try. That applies to both relationships and jobs.
Bonus: Hurt and pain is a natural part of life, wherever there is discomfort, there is growth.