In January, I wrote a post about social anxiety and it was the kind of post that I was scared to push publish on. Talking about my social anxiety makes me feel incredibly vulnerable, but I also refuse to keep silent about this aspect of my personality. Because keeping silent means I feel ashamed that I have social anxiety, and I’m not ashamed. Not anymore. I have simply accepted it’s part of who I am.

The first response I received to that blog post was… unpleasant, to say the least. I wrote out a lengthy response to this comment, but the email address was invalid. (Of course it was!)

I’ve never done this before because, generally, I don’t see the point in giving negative comments any sort of attention, but this comment showed me that there are people who really do not understand what social anxiety is, and it’s time to lay some truth bombs for these people.

Here’s the comment:

You sound like you have some real self-esteem issues. This seems like more than social anxiety, it’s a real problem with the way you think the rest of the world is constantly judging you. Literally no one cares how you park your car. You’re not an idiot if you have to look around a restaurant for your friends. EVERYONE has done this. You sound like you really need to get on medication and into therapy.

Ouch.

I won’t lie; for about five seconds after I received that comment, I considered deleting the post. I understand that when I decided to put my life on display via a public blog, I must take the good with the bad. But the bad really hurts sometimes. That comment hurt. But it also showed me how little people understand of social anxiety. So, let’s discuss some truths about it:

Social anxiety is about self-esteem and the fear of being judged by others. The comment above states that I have “real self-esteem issues” and “a real problem with the way you think the world is constantly judging you.” Funny enough – this person describes social anxiety perfectly! It is about self-esteem and it is about the way we feel people are judging our every move. This is social anxiety – our fear of how we are perceived in social settings. This fear is so pervasive that it can cause panic attacks at just the thought of going on a job interview or a date or your church’s picnic. And, since social anxiety develops based largely on environment, it’s those of us who grew up feeling less than, unwanted, unloved who often have social anxiety. We weren’t given safe spaces to grow, so we became fearful of the world and being judged.

We understand that our fear is not logical. When I’m in my logical mind, I know that nobody cares how I park my car. I know that I’m not an idiot if I have to look around a while before spotting my friends in a restaurant. I know that. But social anxiety does not play on logic; it plays on our biggest fears. Our fear of being judged harshly, of people laughing at us, of being embarrassed. So, yes, I will worry about people judging me for how I parked my car because that’s how my social anxiety works. You don’t need to tell me it’s silly because I know it is. I already feel completely ridiculous by how crippled I get by my thoughts when I’m worried about a social event. I already feel as if there’s something wrong with me because I get so damn worried all the time about things most other people don’t even concern themselves about. But social anxiety is not about logic, so please don’t make someone feel bad for the things they are fearful of. That’s not helpful, that’s harmful.

We are not weirdos with no social life. Thanks to years of deep introspection, understanding friends, and taking huge risks, I’ve developed a good social life. I didn’t always have this. I didn’t make any friends in college because I was too scared to speak up in class or talk to the people next to me. I cried every day the year I lived on campus and would hide out in the bookstore because it felt safe. I didn’t join any extracurricular activities in high school or college (well, aside for a semester of basketball cheerleading during 10th grade – how’s that for a fun fact?!) because I was too afraid of being judged. And then I learned about what social anxiety is and realized this condition described me perfectly, and I was letting it win. So, I joined a book club on Meetup, said yes when a new coworker invited me to her place to hang out, started talking more with the people around me at work. It’s been difficult and sometimes, I still wonder why I have any friends and why they even like me, but mostly, I’m happy I took risks and found the people who don’t think less of me for having social anxiety and, when I tell them about it, their response is, “Is there anything I can do to help?” (<– Best response to anyone who opens up about their social anxiety, btw.) Our social lives may be lighter than others, and we may turn down a lot of engagements because we know they’d just ratchet up our anxiety and make us incredibly uncomfortable, but we do have social lives.

We are not unfriendly and we don’t hate people. Not in the least! I may not be the most bubbly individual, and I may be able to endure an entire elevator ride without saying a word to you, but I don’t consider myself unfriendly. I’m just shy and have a hard time talking to people sometimes without stumbling over my words and feeling like a complete fool. I will do everything in my power to keep myself from doing that, so, usually, I just stay quiet. (Which is why I’ll opt for the stairs instead of the elevator if I see a group of coworkers waiting by the elevator when I’m leaving the office.) And I love meeting new people! Okay, okay. I like it. People are inherently fascinating and I want to talk to you – it’s just not always easy for me, so be patient with me, okay?

Ah, I could go on and on and on! I truly could. But this post is long enough already. I hope I made my point. I hope this person who left that comment understands how hurtful their comment was. And I hope they have a better understanding – and more empathy – for what we experience on a daily basis. Social anxiety is illogical and frustrating and makes me feel crazy sometimes, but I don’t deserve to be shamed for it. Shaming someone for a mental illness is such harmful behavior, and we need to be better than that.

For my comrades suffering with social anxiety and still managing to make a life for yourself, I am so proud of you. You are brave. You are incredible. You are worthy of taking up space.

I spent a lot of my younger years hating the fact that I was shy, that social situations intimidated me, and that I generally enjoyed being home by myself than out with other people.

My mom and my brother are the same way. We are all shy and quiet and introverted, homebodies to our core. My dad, on the other hand, is the exact opposite. He is loud and brash and extroverted and can make friends with just about anyone. He’s friendly and outgoing; I am not. It drove him crazy that he fathered two introverted kids who were quiet and shy.

And because of that, I spent a lot of time wishing I was more outgoing and making friends came easy to me. I wanted new situations and being around people to feel exciting, not intimidating. Extroverts tend to rule the world, probably because they’re just more outspoken and their personalities seem to shine a bit brighter than that of introverts. Introverts are happy working behind the scenes, while extroverts want the starring role.

I wanted to be a star. I wanted to exude confidence and friendliness and openness. I wanted to be that girl who had no problem making friends, who could easily chat it up with a stranger on the street, who could enter new situations feeling curious and excited, not terrified and overwhelmed. And I hated, hated, hated that I was not that girl. But more than that, I think, deep down, I always knew I wasn’t meant to be that girl. That wasn’t my calling in life, that’s not the person God created me to be.

And then I discovered what being an introvert really means. For my entire life, I had drawn the distinction that introverts are shy and extroverts are outgoing, when that’s actually not what it means to be an introvert at all. (Or an extrovert, for that matter. Shy extroverts do exist!) Introversion and extroversion depend on where you draw your energy from. For me, being around people can be overstimulating, overwhelming, and ultimately draining. It is only when I am alone that I can recharge my batteries and start to feel more like myself. That’s when I can restore my energy.

Truth be told, I actually really hate when I have more than one social engagement on a weekend. For me, if I have more than one social event happening on a weekend (and forget about weekdays – I hold those sacred and plan-free unless absolutely necessary), I feel overwhelmed. More than anything, I love quiet weekends where I have little to no plans. I will never be the girl with the full social calendar and I am A-OK with that. I’ve never needed to be social all the time (or even most of the time), and I’m learning to harness that knowledge and be okay with it.

So there’s one side of the coin: introversion. And I love that I’m an introvert. I love being a homebody, being quiet, being alone. There’s so much power in understanding yourself and learning to accept yourself for who you are and what you need.

And then there is the other side of the coin: social anxiety. I’ve never been formally diagnosed with social anxiety, but I can relate to many of the common symptoms of this disorder. So if I don’t have social anxiety, I have a very high level of shyness. Both social anxiety and shyness are largely ego-driven and come from the fear of being in unknown social situations and worrying about what other people will think of you. Being in new social situations can be extremely terrifying for me. I get stomachaches, headaches, and so much anxiety racing through my body that it makes me shiver (my teeth will actually chatter when I’m deep in fear mode).

The amount of anxiety I had when I started my current job almost brought me to my knees. It was the most intense anxiety I have ever had. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop my racing thoughts, couldn’t see past the unknown. I was so worried about my new coworkers and what they would think of me. I distinctly remember my second day of work, where I brought a frozen meal to heat up for lunch. It took so much courage for me to get up from my desk, walk to the break room, heat up my lunch, and take it back to my desk. Just the simple fact of knowing I would go into that unknown area of my new office where my coworkers would be chit-chatting with one another to heat up my lunch made my palms sweat, my teeth chatter, and my heart race. For most people, this is no big thing and, in hindsight, I feel silly acknowledging how difficult it was, but for me, it was a moment of celebration. This simple act took so much courage and, because of it, I was able to build on it and grow more and more comfortable at my new place of work.

My shyness is largely due to my low self-esteem and insecurity. I’m so concerned about what others might think of me that it turns me into someone who would rather keep to herself than try to engage people in conversation. It’s why I’m always the quietest one in a group of people (even when surrounded by friends I know well) and why I hate, more than anything, having attention on myself. It’s like there’s this bubble that forms when the attention is on me and all I can hear is the rushing sound of my anxiety racing through my ears. Everything else is muted, my whole body starts heating up, and forming words is nearly impossible. Everything seems to happen at warp speed and I don’t have enough time to keep up. My mind is five minutes behind while everyone else is operating in the present.

And that’s why most people who know me in real life don’t really know me. Because I can write 1,000 words on being a shy introvert and what it actually feels like to be one, but speaking about it is almost impossible for me, without stumbling over my words, forgetting phrases, and feeling completely overwhelmed by the attention. I guess that’s why I love writing so much. Because it is only through my words that I can freely be me. I can be honestly, authentically myself and get these words out of my head.

So while I would love to be a more outgoing, friendlier version of myself, I’m acknowledging and accepting my shy, quiet introverted nature. It’s freeing when you hone in on the truest parts of your authentic self, when you find your truth and learn how to live in it. I wasn’t made to be loud and brash and extroverted. I was made for the behind the scenes, I was made for quiet and calm and peace. That’s who I am, I’m accepting it, and I’m going to live in this truth with joy.

When I was a senior in high school, my best friend called me boring. Boring. Essentially, it was a huge criticism and caused me to spend the next few years hating everything about the word. And hating even more that she was right.

I began to equate my quietness and introvertedness (that’s a word!) as being boring. I hated it. I hated that she was right and I was boring. No wonder I have a hard time making friends, haven’t been on a date in eleventy billion months, and hate everything about the social scene. It’s because I’m boring.

A few weeks ago, Emily Jane wrote an amazing post about introverts and why we struggle with being social. It was a real eye-opener for me to find out there isn’t anything wrong with me. I’m not weird, nor do I need to seek out a more boisterous personality. There were so many interesting tidbits in the post that I won’t begin to talk about them here. The main lesson I took away from it was that I become overstimulated by too much social time and I draw my energy from being quiet. It makes complete sense to me. I cherish my alone times more than my people times. If I don’t get at least a few hours of alone time a day, I get stressed and jittery. (This is why it’s probably a good reason I changed my major from education to journalism. And why I hated my teaching experiences so much.)

My mom and I are both huge introverts. We spend many, many car rides in complete silence. To some people, we may look like we’re mad at each other or barely know one another. But the truth is, this is just the way we were made. If you were to tape a sensor to my brain to spew out everything I was thinking during these “silent” car rides, I don’t even know how many pages you would fill up! When I’m quiet and seem withdrawn into myself, it doesn’t mean I’m not engaged. The opposite is actually true. My mind never seems to shut off and there is so much happening in my brain that it would probably exhaust an extrovert.

I’m beginning to embrace being an introvert. I love the fact that being shy and quiet is such a huge part of me because there’s nothing to be ashamed of! While I would love to have more of my dad’s extroverted personality where he could get anyone and everyone to open up to him and become his best friend justlikethat, I realize it’s OK if I don’t. There are downsides to being so quiet and shy, mainly that it takes me forever to open up to people and let myself enjoy where I’m at. I worry too much about what people think of me. I can’t do small talk for anything. And I cringe at the thought of a car ride with someone I barely know.

But I need to stop worrying about that because it hasn’t gotten me anywhere in the past few years. I’m shy. Incredibly so. I’m quiet, to the point you may think I’m snobbish. (I promise I’m not.) Some may call me boring. So what? It’s who I am. I need to embrace it.

Are you an introvert or an extrovert?