How to Be Yourself: Quiet Your Inner Critic and Rise Above Social Anxiety

by Ellen Hendriksen

It’s like standing at the end of a ten-meter diving platform, your heart pounding at the prospect of leaping in. Remaining silent invites frustration—“I knew that was the answer,” or, “Dammit, that was my idea,” but the thought of jumping into the abyss of conversation is paralyzing.

We are convinced we are too much of something: too weird, too awkward, too annoying. Or that we are not enough of something else: not confident, not socially skilled, not competent. Finally, our bodies betray us; we are sure everyone notices our graceless blushing, sweaty palms, or trembling hands.

There’s nothing you need to fake, no image to manufacture. You are enough just as you are.

Like sponges, we absorb our families’ lessons, without quite realizing that a core belief is crystalizing inside us. In other households, very different lessons may be modeled; for example, that chatting on the stoop with neighbors is the ideal way to spend a weekend afternoon or that showing off your moves at the center of a dance circle is exhilarating rather than a crisis. My husband grew up thinking it was mandatory to invite the roofers or the plumber to stay for dinner.

This fear costs us: it makes it hard to meet people, get close to them, and have a good time. It makes it hard to ask for what we need. It can make others think we’re snobby, unfriendly, or cold, when really we’re just nervous.

Social anxiety isn’t just fear of judgment; it’s fear the judgers are right.

The point is internal—to grow the skills and the willingness to try whatever it is you hunger to do. To know, deep in your heart, that you are fine just as you are, even in the moments when anxiety might try to convince you otherwise.

Some conversations are absorbing and flow easily. Others may be graceless or banal, but that doesn’t mean you are, too.

introversion is your way; social anxiety gets in your way.

course, some anxiety before a big moment or a big change is normal and expected—who isn’t nervous starting a new job or going on a first date? It would be weird not to be anxious. You want to make a good impression, you want things to go well, so of course you have the jitters. But here’s the thing: anxiety should match the task at hand. Anxiety before presenting to a crowd of thousands? Sure. But the same level of anxiety before joining a new Pilates class? That’s a mismatch.

In fact, I’d argue that you are enough just as you are. That others would agree you’re adequate and capable. And that would mean there was nothing to be afraid of and you could be, simply, yourself. The Inner Critic is already uncertain. Let’s show it that it’s actually wrong. It underestimates you. You are stronger, more capable, and more likable than the Critic has ever given you credit for.

It’s okay to feel awkward as long as you keep moving forward.”

Next, use Embrace to show yourself some compassion: talk to yourself as you would to a good friend. Soothe, encourage, and support.

There’s a myth that you have to feel confident to be ready. In truth, you gain confidence by doing things before you’re ready, while you’re still scared. Go through the motions and your confidence will catch up.

Self-focused attention eats up our bandwidth by focusing on our bodies (I look weird, don’t I?), emotions (I’m freaking out here), performance (Why did I say that? I sound like an idiot), or management (I should smile at her. But maybe that looks creepy. But not smiling is creepier, isn’t it? Argh, I probably look like I want to stuff her in my car trunk). Thus, we come away from social encounters with very little information about how things actually went. And where do we look to fill in the gaps? Unfortunately, we ask our anxiety, which is about as credible as asking the used-car salesman which model we should buy. Or we ask the Inner Critic, which is even worse. In short, we look inside to see how things outside are going.

This is called the felt sense. We feel like an idiot, so we must be spouting nonsense. We feel like a loser, so everyone must be secretly signing an L on their foreheads when we turn around. Again, it feels true, so we ask our anxiety, arguably the least credible source of information, for reassurance. No wonder it’s not working.

While classic social anxiety might mean hanging back rather than approaching, taking the long way around so we don’t run into anyone, or refraining from raising our hands, that’s not the only way. Judgment, anger, and hypersensitivity to criticism don’t look like the stereotype of social anxiety; instead of the wolf in sheep’s clothing, it’s the sheep in wolf’s clothing, baring fangs when we feel cornered by potential judgment or humiliation.

If we’re wired to see ambiguous social cues as rejection—a smile as mocking rather than friendly, a lapse in conversation as boredom rather than a pause—our brains will find what we’re looking for.

All this social-media-induced social anxiety has less to do with the specific platform—indeed, the MySpace and chat rooms of yesteryear inspired the same anxiety as the apps du jour. But no matter the platform, social media is a performance. And performance pulls for perfectionistic self-presentation. To be sure, individuals have cultivated a public image since the dawn of time (Ponytailed or curly powdered wig? Fedora or derby?), but now, armed with smartphone cameras and filters, we can manage others’ impressions as never before.

And that’s the biggest cost of FOMO: actually missing out. Hear me out on this one: Pretend you’re at home having a perfectly relaxing evening. But then you check your alerts and updates and find a party you’re not at, and your mind stops enjoying and starts comparing. Did I make the wrong decision? Are they having a better time than me? I suck. The result? We end up discounting and being distracted from the most important moment: the one we’re actually in.

Another remedy: JOMO, or the joy of missing out. JOMO is the deliberate choice to enjoy the moment one is actually in. Sometimes JOMO is celebrated as an escape—all sweatpants, unwashed hair, and Nutella with a spoon—but it’s more about intentionally focusing on wherever you actually are.

perfectionism is only a problem if your high standards are getting in your way. If a high ideal is working well for you in other areas—in Josh’s case, high standards for his restaurant—you’re fine. This is the nontoxic version of perfectionism called positive striving.

Think how you behave around those with whom you are comfortable. Are your social skills still lacking? Probably not.

Having nothing to say or feeling conspicuous is a problem, to be sure, but it’s not a skills problem; it’s a confidence problem. Interestingly, most people who experience social anxiety actually have excellent social skills, but when we’re feeling inhibited we apply them in a way that keeps us from gaining confidence. We might keep other people talking so we don’t have to talk. We might deftly steer the conversation so we don’t have to talk about ourselves. We ask lots of questions. We act in a way that researchers call innocuously social. We nod a lot. We agree. We tend not to interrupt. We use what linguists have labeled back-channel responses like “uh-huh” or “wow, really?” to show that we’re listening and interested. And you know what? All this requires stellar social skills. We’re masters at reading a group, being agreeable, paying close attention, keeping the peace, and encouraging others to take the lead without their even realizing it.

Our worries become a self-fulfilling prophecy. But it’s not just you. It’s so common it has a name: anxiety-induced performance deficits.

“But what if I screw up?” you ask. You will. I have. I still do. Everyone does. Everyone makes a joke that falls flat or inadvertently gives a compliment that comes off as inappropriate. Everyone holds a hand up for a high five that never gets noticed. We try for one result and get one we didn’t intend at all. But it happens to us all. If you accidentally offend, apologize.

Disclosure got a lot of press when the “36 Questions to Fall in Love” phenomenon made the rounds of the interweb. Much has been made about this list of questions, with online articles like, “I Asked a Stranger These 36 Questions to See If We’d Fall in Love. And We Did,” and an essay in the New York Times titled “To Fall in Love with Anyone, Do This.” It sounded like a silver bullet for the lovelorn.

The study’s current director, Dr. Robert Waldinger, is a psychiatrist who exudes such tranquility that it’s unsurprising to discover he’s also a Zen priest. In a viral TED Talk, he revealed what decades of Grant Study data have brought to light about what makes a life happy, healthy, and meaningful.