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

by Ellen Hendriksen

Act as if you were not anxious, drop your safety behaviors, and not only will you feel better; you’ll also get a better response. And guess what? No one can tell you’re acting. Guess what else? Eventually, you won’t be.

So affirm your truths. Affirm the times you did the right thing. Remind yourself of your best and your best will show up.

practice gone wrong is often great fodder for conversation. Everyone loves embarrassing stories; it humanizes you, shows you have a sense of humor, and you might even get an embarrassing story in return.

You don’t gain confidence in a vacuum and then go off and conquer the world. Instead, you learn to be confident, to have courage, to get over anxiety, to live your life authentically, by doing challenging things.

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).

Huge discrepancies exist between how we think we look and how we actually look.

when we get stressed about our bodies our bodies react accordingly, which is the opposite of what we’re aiming for.

the person you are talking to “is a hundred times more interested in himself and his wants and his problems than he is in you and your problems.”

noticing doesn’t necessarily equal judging.

Contrary to the feeling that we’re transparent and in the spotlight, our thoughts and bodies usually get overlooked. How we feel isn’t how we look, plus even if they do notice, it doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll judge us. Noticing usually stops with noticing.

Being judged does not render the judgers correct.

If one side of perfectionism is bookended by sky-high expectations, the other is anchored by lower-than-a-worm beliefs in one’s ability.

So what’s the cost of FOMO, besides feeling anxious, envious, and insecure? It turns us inward, which also lies at the heart of social anxiety. But when we turn inward, like Diego at the hospital, we miss what’s going on around us. And that’s the biggest cost of FOMO: actually missing out.

Aronson and his colleagues conclude that the coffee incident made the contestant more human, more approachable. He’s still impressive but no longer intimidating. It takes him from being superhuman to human, and therefore more attractive. We like people more when they’re imperfect.

Now, it is possible your skills are underdeveloped due to avoiding social situations. You may be rusty, but you’re not hopeless. As with Derrick, it’s not I don’t have it in me. If anything holds you back, it’s anxiety, which simply keeps you from accessing your skills.

anxiety-induced performance deficits. This is when, precisely because we’re anxious, we start to act oddly. We go blank. We spill our drink.

“Meeting people” is really different from “making friends.” One is an event; the other is a process.

Disclosure, however, is about you.

Social anxiety makes us masters of ending conversations.

But don’t base success on the other person’s response. Don’t base success on how nervous you feel. Base success only on what you do.

Assuming someone is friendly to begin with, repetition, disclosure, and taking the initiative hammer out a solid friendship that will stand the test of time.

Competence and confidence aren’t what others are hoping for in a friend—they’re hoping for warmth.

So keep showing up. Share what you think and feel and do. Show others that you like them. These are the building blocks of beautiful friendships.

Good relationships keep us happier and healthier.